#holds head so stressfully

[starlitcrows]

storyboard of that one field scene from pride and prejudice (2005) but my thabes fire emblem ocs + concept art doodles

[tuesdayiminlove]

i don't wanna look at anything else (now that i saw you) PART 2/3

where jamie seems to remember everything, and you're just trying to navigate a stitch on your crochet flower (jamie tartt x fem!reader)

part one

A/N: here's part two!!!!! link what yall think, im so grateful for the feedback of the first part, it's super encouraging <33 tysm. also this is NOT proofread oops

word count: 4.5k

When you arrive back inside your home, you’re heavy-breathing with a heartbeat erratic enough for your heart to pop out of your chest. You place your keys down, reaching into your jean pocket for your phone, placing the first call you can manage to muster up. 

Stevie is over within minutes, you think you might’ve heard her light jogging over to your house. 

Her heavy pants echo the room as she tries to muster up the words. “I just got back from work, and I fucking ran! Tell me the emergency immediately.”

“I don’t even know where to begin!” you say. “I mean, I was trying to make some creamy vegetable soup, but I didn’t even get to chop the tomatoes, Stevie! The fucking tomatoes! I—“

“Okay, begin by getting the point, babe." She walks to your kitchen, you following close behind. It doesn’t come to a surprise that she opens your refrigerator, most likely rummaging for the cucumbers and your chickpea hummus. “I love you, but if this is dire, I’m gonna need to know now.” 

You gather your thoughts as Stevie begins to look through your drawers for a knife. How do you even say it simply? “Jamie Tartt thinks I’m his girlfriend.”

Stevie drops the knife. 

In any other situation, you would scold her for doing something close to a hazard in the kitchen. But you understand her actions completely. If you were holding a flower pot when finding out this information, you’d drop that shit, too. 

“Continue before I absolutely freak the fuck out.”

That’s when you tell her about the call and the trip to the hospital. The words are coming out of your mouth at the speed of light, you’re surprised Stevie is managing to keep up. But she does, quietly chopping her cucumbers and dipping a few into the hummus. This is a more collected look than when she dropped the knife, but you’re sure the gears are turning in her head just as much as they are for you currently. 

“I just left his house and I told him I’d be back with—soup!”

You don’t wait to turn the stove back on, shuffling Stevie away from the center of the counter while you go back to cooking. 

She says your name slowly, eyes wide. “This is some romcom-movie-shit, babe.”

You fight a roll of your eyes. “This is real life!” you scold. “And the poor boy is concussed, probably mental!” 

“Mental for thinking he’s dating you? Have you seen yourself? You’re fucking magnificent.”

“Thanks,” you drawl, not in the mood for a compliment. “But that doesn’t change the fact that he’s just a bit bonkers right now, and I don’t know what to do!” You stir the pot stressfully, watching the ingredients mix around the broth. You’ve put a bit more ingredients, and added more broth to make sure that the serving is good for two, and for any leftovers Jamie may want. You think you’ll have enough to send Steve home with, as well. “The doctor said not to startle him, but I’m pretty fucking startled. So I don’t know how to not startle him when I’m not in the right state of mind! This feels so stupid.” 

“I think you should tell him the truth,” says Stevie. She’s right behind your shoulder, peering over at the pot. She takes a large whiff, and hums. “You making this for him?”

“And for you.” And me! 

“Ah,” she says. “I see. A little compensation so I don’t out you to the press, yeah? Nice thinking!”

“Not funny,” you drawl. It was never a thought that crossed your mind that Stevie would go out, telling people of your current entanglement with Jamie. She’s an editor for a magazine company, and she has a problem telling you all the tips she gets about local celebrities, always trusting you not to tell anyone anything. You don’t doubt that she’ll do the same for you. “So I should tell him the truth, then?” you ask, getting back to the main point of Stevie’s visit. 

“Mhm,” she replies. “Probably not today though, don’t you think? He’s overwhelmed enough as it is, he’s probably gonna be benched in Richmond’s next couple matches. That sad fuck is probably groveling as we speak. And he can’t even drink to cure the pain! … That’s how concussions work, right?” She shakes her head. “Anyway, don’t do it today. If I were you, I’d play it by ear, you know?”

You nod, having heard all of this from the doctor.

"And one more thing."

Stevie hums in questionn

“… He may have tried to kiss me.”

You think everyone in the neighborhood heard Stevie’s screech when she belts your name. 

It’s later in the day when you ring Jamie’s doorbell. You’d successfully shooed Stevie out of your house, convincing her that she does not need to spy on you from your kitchen window in case Jamie tries to make a move (“I’ll be there in two seconds, ready to make that concussion worse. Just say the word.”). And now you have the soup in two tupperware containers, as well some carrots and dip in your tote bag because that’s what Jamie originally always used you for, right? The familiarity will hopefully make him happy. 

When he opens the door, you’re not surprised to see all the lights are closed, as well as his curtains shut (so much for Stevie spying). The only thing you see that’s shedding artificial light is the lamp by his staircase, but even that looks as dim as it can be. 

“Hey, love,” he says groggily, a certain warmth to it that makes the nickname seem more intimate. He rubs his eyes as he moves to create room for you to come inside. “Sorry I took so long. Took a bit of a nap.”

“Oh,” you frown, concern taking over the nerves of his sudden pet names, “I’m sorry for waking you. I can just drop these off and head out, if you’d prefer?”

Jamie shakes his head. “Don’t be silly. Come in.”

You enter apprehensively, though you’re trying your best to conceal it. This is the second time ever that you are in Jamie’s home. And it’s only been a day. The strangeness of that fact lingers in the air as you close the door behind you.

You trail behind him toward the kitchen, your footsteps quiet against the hardwood floors. Various football plaques litter the walls, as well as many, many photos of Richmond’s team.

“Why don’t you go sit down?” you say as you simultaneously take in his home. “I can prepare these myself and bring them to you.”

“Rubbish," scoffs Jamie, "I’m still mobile, and I’m not leaving my girlfriend to take care of me like you’re some sort of maid. I’m not bedridden.”

The word girlfriend, once again, catches you off guard, and your heart does a funny little stutter. You push it aside. “I just don’t want you to exert yourself,” you reason, brows furrowed. “You’re concussed, Jamie.”

“Who cares about that?” he jokes, waving off your concerns. 

Your jaw clenches. You want to say I care. Because this concussion is affecting you more than you fucking know. But you bite your tongue, and instead ask him where he keeps his bowls and silverware. 

Minutes later, Jamie and yourself are sitting on his couch. You took the liberty of sitting on the opposite end of his sofa, taking up as little space as possible. You’ve tucked yourself into the far corner, legs curled up slightly, trying to occupy as little room as possible. Jamie, on the other hand, lounges comfortably, his socked feet propped on the edge of the coffee table, though his posture is slightly more relaxed than it was earlier. You’d ask Jamie if it would be okay to crochet while you’re here, mainly so you can have something to do instead of sitting there awkward with today’s events before you. 

So, soup now resting on Jamie’s coffee table (you stop every few moments to take a bite), you’re intent on the rose petal you’re making with your yarn. Jamie alternates between eating his soup and watching you, his gaze unashamedly direct, though there’s a softness to it that makes your heart flutter despite yourself.

To anyone else, the scene might look endearingly domestic: the two of you sharing a quiet moment in the living room, him eating soup, you crocheting, the occasional exchange of lighthearted banter. But there’s an underlying element to it. You don’t want to tip-toe around Jamie, because you’re supposed to be acting natural and all, but it’s hard. 

“You’re the most thoughtful thing ever, you know that?” he says, after a minute of silence. 

Your hands pause mid-stitch, your eyes staying fixed on the delicate yarn in front of you as you decide how to respond, stomach churning nervously. “A ‘thing’?” you joke lightly, a small smile tugging at your lips. “How very gentlemanly of you.”

“You know what I mean!” chastises Jamie. 

Fighting the butterflies in your stomach as his words settle warmly around your heart.

“I do know,” you reply softly, finally glancing up at him. “Why do you say that?”

“The rose you’re knitting—“

“Crocheting.”

“Crocheting. Sorry, love. How many are you making for the old bloke’s grandson?”

The moment you take in Jamie's words, you pause, crochet hook in the air. “What?” 

Jamie looks confused. “Mr. Taylor? That his name?”

You shake your head, mind still reeling. “No, I know who you meant. How do you know I’m making this for his grandson?” You don’t recall telling that to Jamie when you initially mentioned what you wanted to do here. 

You currently have half of a rose petal done, wanting to make something special for Mr. Taylor grandson—Roman. The young toddler is allergic to flowers, getting all sniffly and itchy when you had brought over a hand-made flower arrangement for the Taylors (it had been their 37th wedding anniversary). But Roman had just kept looking at the flowers with such curiosity, despite his body’s affinity for them. When you had decided to take up crocheting (you wanted to make tiny plant plushies yourself—because why are stuffed plushies with cute faces on them so expensive these days?), one of the first things you learned was to make stuffed flower arrangements, just for when Roman would visit. 

How could Jamie possibly know that?

“Because you’re you,” says Jamie. Blush coats over his cheeks lightly when he averts his gaze from hers, hand moving to scratch the back of his head.

“… And," he begins, "one day, I was in me car and I saw you walk over to the Taylors’ house with crochet roses. ‘Made it look like a nice arrangement, too. I wanted to ask you why you had fake flowers when you have fucking millions just in your front yard. Didn’t know if that’d sound weird, though, so…” he trails off, his words getting quieter, “So, I may have asked Mr. Taylor instead.”

You try to recall the memory Jamie spoke of. You do recall the last time you had headed over to the Taylors with the signature bouquet. Jamie had been at the front of his house, getting into his car. Of course she had noticed him immediately, spotting him just by her peripheral vision, but she hadn’t decided to spare him a look until she crossed the street to look back, but he had been preoccupied. She didn’t even think he saw her that day. 

That day had been nearly three months ago. 

Your mouth falls open. Jamie had noticed and asked about you that long ago?

Jamie glances at you nervously, mistaking your silence for something more negative. “I’m not some creep or anything, promise! I just—I dunno—I was curious! You’re always doing stuff like that.” 

You shake your head. “I just never knew you noticed,” you mumble, your nerves growing. Even now, he remembers. You wish you knew what that meant for you two; you wish that the suspicions and hopes in your brain are true. “Or asked.”

Jamie’s cockiness kicks back in at your flustered nerves. “Like I said, I’ve always noticed you. And now I get to be the luckiest guy.”

Your eyes meet his. For a moment, you let yourself pretend. Pretend that this is real—that this is the relationship you and Jamie have built together. That you’re a couple, and this is just one of those moments you get to stumble upon—a sweet realization that Jamie had liked you long before either of you dared to admit it.

You let yourself hold on to the fantasy, just for a moment.

It has to be just a moment... you think if you stare any longer at Jamie your body is going to take over and grab him for a kiss, just to know what it may feel like. You just know you shouldn’t.

“Four,” you say softly. “I’m making four for Roman.” You turn back to the stitch you had laid on your lap, trying to get out of your frenzie and into your zone. 

Jamie smiles, eyes still twinkling. “That’s his name? Roman?”

You hum. “He’s about to turn four. And he’s just the most adorable kid I’ve seen.”

“I’m being rude, aren’t I?" replies Jamie, "Prodding.”

Your head snaps up. “What? No.” You uncomfortably shift in your seat to hopefully look less odd. “Sorry if I’m being weird. I’m just… zoned out, I guess. Thinking a lot.”

“Yeah?” he says, staring at you intently. “What about?”

“Just… everything about today, I suppose.”

Jamie jokingly smiles. “Yeah, getting a call that your boyfriend got whacked in the head and is now concussed wasn’t really in your daily plan, was it?”

You let out a laugh. “No, it wasn’t.”

“It got in the way of watering radishes, I bet.”

Again, you laugh more, your stomach moving steadily at the action. From the limited conversation you’ve had with him, paired with now, you’ve deduced that Jamie is just a complete pro for lightening up conversations. When your heart races nervously, a quip comes out of his mouth that makes your body go back steady. You don’t even think that this is an individual experience; he seems like he does it a lot. You wonder how that balance comes so perfectly in his life. 

“Yeah,” you laugh. “My gardening has to come to a pause today.” 

“It’s a shame,” he says, grinning. “Would’ve loved to see you in your cute sunhat, or the giant yellow gloves you always wear.”

Your eyes widen at his words. 

Seeing your shock, he adds, “You think I don’t notice these things? I always have.”

You try not to cough up the food you’d just digested. You would like to consider that Jamie is just making things up, but the description of your usual accessories when you’re out tending to your plants remain true. The giant yellow gloves belong to your mom, and there hasn’t been any reason to buy new ones if you’ve already got a pair. 

And the sunhat—well, it’s not everyday you’re seen out with it. It’s usually if the sun ever comes out, glaring at your eyes while you try to focus on a task at hand. You’ve probably brought it out maybe a couple of times since Jamie had moved in next to you; none of those times being as of recent. 

It’s a shock Jamie can even recall it. 

He remembers the little things. I always have. 

“Fuck,” he mutters softly. “Have I creeped you out? Don’t mean to sound like a prick, but I thought what I said was pretty fucking cute. But I understand if it’s creepy again. I don’t know. I’m sorry.”

You shake your head. “No, Jamie, I’m not creeped. ‘M kinda just shocked that you notice things like that.” 

He shrugs. “It’s hard to not pay attention. You live right beside me. And you’re you. It’s pretty fucking impossible for me not to notice things about you.”

Your heart is back to racing. All of Jamie’s confessions of things he’s noticed can only insinuate that he’s genuinely seen things about you, whether he had gotten hit in the head or not. They’re not fabricated in his mind from his belief that you two are dating. He’s not like Holy shit, do you remember that time we had dinner together? You think if he started recalling specific memories that never happened, you’d check him straight into the nearest mental institution. 

But he’s saying things that are so undeniably true; things he’s noticed about your being. 

If you aren’t already so conscious and confused of the actual problem at hand, you’d sit here and pretend that he’s yours—just as much as he claims to be. You wish this moment to be real, but it’s not. The sadness and guilt that weighs over you with that fact can overtake any other feeling in this moment. 

“Jamie,” you begin, “I need to tell you something.”

You think about Stevie’s advice, to not tell him today. The doctor saying not to overwhelm him. You know they’re right. You don’t want to. The poor bloke is probably already stressed enough as it is. You want to be here for Jamie, to help him get better because even with your limited experience around him, you care very deeply about his wellbeing. And maybe your feelings are skewed by the crush you’ve been harboring on him, but that’s hardly the point anymore. 

But how are you supposed to keep this up? Pretending to be someone you’re not, filling a role in his life that isn’t truly yours—it feels wrong, no matter how much you want to help him heal.

You don’t think you’re cut out for pretending. 

Jamie looks at you expectantly, a small smile on his face and your heart just breaks. 

“Jamie… I don’t know how to say this,” you admit, your throat tightening. “But I’m not your girlfriend.”

For a second, Jamie looks beyond confused. “The fuck? Did we break up?”

“I got the call today,” you explain gently, shrinking down into the sofa with a racing heart. “When I heard you were in the hospital, I was worried—God, I was worried—but I didn’t understand why they called me. And then Roy said… he said we’d been going out.” You bite your lip, carefully choosing your next words. “It made me realize something had gone wrong. That maybe you hit your head and got things mixed up.”

Jamie doesn’t say anything, his brows knitting together as he processes your words.

“I wanted to do what was best for you,” you continue, your voice growing quieter. “Everyone kept telling me not to startle you, not to stress you out. But I can’t keep pretending we’re in a relationship when we’re not. It doesn’t feel right. It doesn’t feel honest. “I care about you, Jamie. I care about you getting better. But I can’t pretend, okay? I’m really, really sorry.””

It’s been nearly two days since you’ve seen or heard from Jamie. You’d practically bolted after your admission, your chest tight with guilt and your hands trembling as you no longer felt worthy of being in his home.

You hadn’t looked back, and he hadn’t stopped you.

It’s all you think about as you sit in the kitchen with your morning coffee, trying your best to catch up on the emails about work that have been piling up while you wallow.

Your work is interrupted when the doorbell rings. 

You immediately think it’s Stevie; she’s been wanting to see you since you had texted and said that you couldn’t even last the night without telling Jamie the truth. You purposefully left out the parts where Jamie pointed out the crocheting for Roman, and the gloves, and the sunhat, and Jamie just noticing you. God knows Stevie will be the first person to jump up and say he’s in love with you, and you’re not ready for that delusion in your head to be spoken out into the universe. 

Especially after Jamie has not spoken to you since. He’s probably freaked out, never wanting to speak to you for as long as he possibly can. 

You close your laptop and head to your front door, not even bothering to check who may be on the other end because—duh—it’s Stevie. 

Only, it’s not her. 

Instead, three boys stand on the opposite end of your door, gaping at you from the moment you lay eyes on them. 

They look vaguely familiar to you, and judging but the sweatsuits they’re wearing with the AFC Richmond logo, they’re Jamie’s teammates. You swallow your anxiety and give them a confused look.

“You’re real,” the man in the middle says, tall and broad with a commanding presence.. 

“Shut up, bruv,” the man to the right elbows the other. “We don’t even know if it’s her. ‘Could be the girl two houses down…”

“Mi amor,” says the final man, eyes light. His warm, melodic voice is unmistakably Spanish, holding up a bottle of wine like a peace offering. “What’s your name?”

You frown, wanting to ask so many questions when a shout intercepts the trio that has lined up at your door. 

“Oi!” 

They boys all turn, and you manage to peek your head out the door, to see Jamie stomping down the steps of his home, clad in sweats and… cow slippers? 

Despite the grumpy set of his face, the sight is almost endearing.

“Jamie!” the trio chorus in unison, like they’ve been caught red-handed.

“You didn’t answer the door,” one of them says, “we figured you’d be at your beautiful lady’s.”

“Don’t mean you can go knocking on doors of people you don’t fucking know,” huffs Jamie, finally reaching them. He doesn’t spare you a glance. 

The boys look ashamed. “We’re sorry, bruv,” says the tallest one, voice gruff and guilty. “Dani made Birria tacos, and Colin’s brought fuzzy socks. I just wanted to say sorry for whacking ya.”

Jamie’s eyes soften at his words. He sighs. “Thank you, mate. I appreciate it, I really do. But I stand by what I fuckin’ said. You can’t go knocking at random doors.”

“But it’s not random!” says the boy you’ve deduced to be Colin. For the first time since they’ve knocked, he turns to you in acknowledgement. “It’s lovely to meet you!” 

“The flowers are gorgeous,” says Dani, eyes g;azing dutifully at your front lawn. “And we apologize for the interruption.”

Jamie nods at them, like a mother watching over their child at the playground after a petty fight breaks out. 

You grin, awkwardness dissolvong. “It's okay. And—I love birria tacos, by the way. Good choice.”

Dani blushes. “I’m sure Jamie wouldn’t mind sharing it with his lady. Wouldn’t  you, Jamie?”

Jamie sputters, looking between the boys, and sparing you the first glance since he’s got here. His mouth opens, then closes. Repeatedly. 

“Um,” you interject, “I would much rather let Jamie enjoy it. Thank you, though!”

Isaac frowns. “That’s how you’re gonna treat your girl?” he grumbles at Jamie. 

“She said it!” argues Jamie. “Not me!”

Isaac shakes his head, muttering something under his breath about no chivalry these days, but he claps Jamie on the shoulder. “Alright, bruv, we’ll get outta your hair. Just make sure you enjoy the tacos. And, uh…” he glances at you with a cheeky grin, “Be nice to your lady, yeah?”

Jamie groans, pinching the bridge of his nose.

Colin pipes up, “It was lovely meeting you!” His voice is warm and genuine, and he flashes you a smile before jogging after Isaac, who is already halfway down the steps.

Dani lingers a moment longer, holding out the wine bottle to Jamie. “You deserve this,” he says with a knowing smile, his gaze flicking between you and Jamie.

Jamie takes the bottle “Thanks.”

“And don’t worry, we won’t knock on any more random doors. Adiós, mi amigos!” Dani trots after the others.

And then it’s just the two of you.

“‘M really fucking sorry ‘bout them. I didn’t think they’d come knocking at your door when I decided to fucking ignore them.” He stares down at the endearing cow faces at his feet, sighing.

You shrug, a harmless smile tugging at your lips. Jamie looks awfully nervous, which you don’t understand. “Makes sense, honestly. And I don’t mind. Now that you’re here, though, I just wanna ask how you’re doing.”

He looks briefly surprised. “I’m doing alright,” he says eventually. 

“Okay, because I never intend to pry, but I’ve just been pretty worried. And—“

“You don’t need to pretend to care.”

The abruptness of Jamie’s cutoff has you wondering whether or not it actually occurred. His frown, however, only solidifies that those words did indeed come from his mouth. 

“Excuse me?” you reply, voice sharper than intended.

“Listen, I was a fuckin’ idiot and a borderline creep to you. When you left, I really thought about it and how fucked up that whole day was. I can’t imagine how it made you feel; being put into a position where you had to be in a relationship with me.”

You frown. You wonder now if this is why Jamie has chosen not to speak to you; if his guilt for the situation has kept him from reaching out. You refuse for that to be a reality. 

“Jamie, are you serious? I just wanted you to be okay! And that’s still what I want for you.”

His eyes peek up from his slippers to you. “… So you don’t hate me?”

You laugh. “I have no reason to hate you, Jamie.”

“You have every reason to believe that I’m a stalker-creep, by the way!”

You raise an eyebrow. “Do you want me to see you as one?”

“Obviously fucking not!

“Then stop trying to drill it into my head!” you laugh. 

Jamie stares at you for a moment, his mouth opening and closing like he wants to argue but can’t find the words. Finally, he lets out a long sigh, running a hand through his hair. There’s a flicker of vulnerability in his expression, softened by the small. And, for the first time in days, the tension between you feels like it’s starting to ease.

“If it’s not obvious,” he begins awkwardly, “I like you. A lot.” He laughs at himself. “Enough to reach stalker status. And clearly my fucking fantasies wanted to take over with me fucking head… but I wanted to do it all the right way. ‘Kinda cheated didn’t I?”

For the first time in two days, the churning in your stomach isn’t anxiety, and instead something entirely more manageable. You grin at him, teasing, “Maybe a little.”

He huffs a laugh, the sound a mix of relief and something hopeful. His eyes meet yours, more sure now, though his voice remains gentle when he says, “I want to do it right. All of it. If you’ll let me.”

The way he looks at you—open, expectant, like he’s giving you the choice and trusting you to give the truest response.

Your smile says everything he needs to know.

(You already know Stevie’s going to lose her mind when you tell her.)

[princessbrunette]

bunny!reader didn’t like being bad. infact, bunny!reader was bad at being bad.

“you slammin’ my doors now, huh? is that — is that what we’re doin’?” his voice booms through the hallway, and you regret it as soon as you’d happened to shut rafe’s bedroom door with just a tad too much attitude.

you wouldn’t call it a dispute, moreso you complaining. you’d gotten into trouble, purely over a misunderstanding on your part. barry had told you that he was your friend, and that you were welcome over to his place to hang out anytime. betrayed by your own naivety, you believed him — which lead to rafe all but dragging your ass back to tannyhill.

he doesn’t yell when he swings the door open, controlling himself. he knows deep down you didn’t mean any harm by it — so instead of spiralling out, he sucks in a breath, closing his eyes for a moment as he lifts a hand in thought.

“just… talk to me, alright? i need you to tell me you understand why you can not be friends with barry.” he stresses, opening his eyes wide to step towards you slowly, moving extra carefully because of the way your lip wobbled, body frozen up.

“i don’t want to talk.” you mewl, resisting the urge to thump your foot. you were never bratty, so he was allowing you some space — he had his limits though. rafe leans on his hip, holding his hand up again in despair.

“well, what — you want the belt, then? will that make you talk?” he shook his head, exasperated and you shake your head with a whimper. “okay then, so…?” he prompts.

“i just don’t understand. you’re the one who told me i should make some more friends!” you argue, voice high pitched and upset.

“yeah i meant girls at the country club, kid. not the god damn dealer i work with.” he drawls in response, blinking a couple of times like it’s obvious.

you hug your arms, feeling very silly about the whole thing as you shrink a little in stature. “i just thought that if we became friends with the same person… we could all hang out together. get to be around you more…” you bleat and he stressfully smooths his brow down with the pads of his fingers.

“thats not how it works.”

“well i’m sorry! barry is the one that said he wanted to be my friend!”

he tongues at his cheek for a moment before closing in on you, an irritated squint occupying his glare. “you really think he wants to be your friend? huh? nah, no really — really think about it baby.” he’s right infront of you, lightly tapping your temple to punctuate his word choice. rafe places a hand on your shoulder, bending to your level so he can look you properly in the eyes, forehead creasing in exertion. “i say this because i care about you, alright — he wants to fuck you. because — because that makes me look bad, right? and… and he’s always looking for ways to get back at me and plus you’re always sitting there with your fuckin’ titties hanging out your shirt so yeah, baby. he wants to fuck you.”

he lets go of you to pace, annoyed. you watch as he runs a hand over his jaw and you sniffle quietly. “oh.”

“yeah.” he speaks before glancing at you. he can see how upset the whole thing has made you, so he reluctantly starts back towards you with a sigh. “look. it’ll be easy for you to make some actual, female friends. okay? you’re a good girl. you’re — you’re kind and sweet and patient and they’d be lucky to have you.” he cups the back of your head before pressing a kiss to your forehead.

“am i your friend rafe?” you peer up at him, so innocently and earnestly that it takes him back.

“y— what?”

“are we friends? together?” you blink.

“you’re my girlfriend.” he speaks like it’s obvious.

“mhm, but are we friends too?”

he itches his cheek, never having really thought about it before. honestly, he didn’t really see it that way — but maybe that was because rafe cameron didn’t really have female friends. not before you and certainly not after you. it just didn’t interest him. aside from wanting to rip your clothes off 24/7, the boy did surprisingly just enjoy being in your company. so, he licks his parted lips and nods.

“that what you want? yeah, kid. i’m your friend. okay?” he swipes his thumbs beneath your eyes, collecting the mascara that had pooled beneath. “now stop crying.”

[notjustjavierpena]

you have returned! hope you’re doing ok! i miss husband!javi like i’m missing a limb!

this got me thinking about a request - husband!javi having to go away for a work trip for a few days - comes back and like cute family time. once the kids are in bed he just goes crazy about reader, she’s tired but she handled the kids no problem and is kind of like no big deal about it. and he’s just feral at that. she’s such a good mum and he’s so turned on and he missed her and just ugh smut

Return

Series Masterpost | Main Masterpost | Support a disabled creator

A/N: This is a request from the 17th of October 2023. Anon, I hope you are still with us. I loved writing this for you, and I hope it lives up to your expectations. Thank you to proofreading as always @angelofsmalldeath-codeine !! thank you for hyping me @theywhowriteandknowthings and @pinkypromisepascal 💖❤️

Summary: Javier returns from a business trip after being apart from his family for three whole days.

Pairing: Javier Peña x f!reader (no y/n)

Tags:  +18, domesticity, a happy family, javi having a baby in his arms and spending alone-time with his kids needs its own tag, i love yous, pregnancy, playful and teasing hubby, touch-starved, banter, dirty talk, finger-fucking, talk about female masturbation, pussy eating, loud reader, piv sex, riding, nipple sucking, lactation kink, javi gets off on you being the mother of his children, multiple orgasms, creampie, intense sex, bliss, pillow talk

Word count: 8k

Link to this work on AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/54409297

Return

The sound of the door has you sprinting towards it. You throw your arms around Javier’s neck before he even manages to put down his bag, causing him to drop it and make a noise of concern in case its contents may end up spilling out on the floor. If you have to be completely honest, you don’t give a damn right now because you haven’t felt his embrace for nearly three whole days. 

“Hola, baby,” he says with a voice that tells you that he is smiling. He holds you close to himself, one hand reaching around your waist and the other one settling on the back of your head. He presses your body into his own, and you try to keep yourself from making a noise that reminds you of a schoolgirl. 

Javier has been on a work trip out of state. It happens from time to time that some department of the state gets the not-so-incredible idea of hiring him as a motivational speaker to make their conferences look more interesting than they actually are. Javier hates it but the money is good and his boss always ends up encouraging him in a way that mostly sounds like he has no choice. 

You hate it too. The act of sleeping in your bed alone, not feeling his body heat, and not being able to simply reach out for him if you need him, is torturous. Combined with taking care of three children alone, you find yourself slowly becoming a less-than-ideal version of yourself. It’s a stressfully romantic reminder that you can barely function without him.

“Hi,” you grin widely as you pull back to receive a kiss. You splay your palms on his chest, scratching slightly as he pecks your lips repeatedly for a moment. Your whole body feels like it is made up of butterflies fluttering around each other in a romantic dance. 

“Thank God that’s over,” he reaches for the suitcase when you finally allow him to step out of your arms. He walks into the kitchen, “They were talking through my whole fucking presentation, and the meetings afterward… I was just daydreaming about coming home to you and the kids the whole time.” 

“That bad?” You follow him around like a puppy. If you didn’t know that he would do the same thing had it been you arriving home, you would find yourself slightly pathetic for being such a fool for him. 

“I should’ve said no this time,” he says as if it had ever been an option. You nod as he continues, “I do it every year and I feel like an idiot each time.” 

“We need the money,” you argue, finally moving away from your husband to go to the living room where Sebastian is lying on a blanket. He squeals in delight at seeing you, and you pick him up with a coo. 

“We don’t need the money, we’ve got enough money,” Javier says from the kitchen. 

“Come say hi to your son,” you change the subject and hear Javier’s steps come closer.

“Oh, there he is,” Javier says and his voice switches to baby talk as you hand Sebastian to him. He settles him on his hip, bouncing slightly where he stands, “Te he extrañado tanto, mijo (I have missed you so much, my son).”

Sebastian gurgles happily up at his father. His eyes are full of recognition at the sound of the  familiar voice. You swear that you can see a little bit of the exhaustion in Javier’s eyes disappear. 

“He’s been really patient with his mom these past couple of days,” you say with a chuckle, “No fussing during naps or nothing. Almost like he knew I needed the extra sympathy.”

“Bet your momma handled everything way better than I could, huh? What do you think?” Javier shifts Sebastian to sit on his arm instead so he can blow a raspberry on his face. He smiles softly at you afterward, turning his head towards you so that he and his son are cheek to cheek, “Is that wrong to assume?”

“I still think you’re better with them than me,” you say simply. 

He tuts, “Bullshit.”

Sebastian makes another happy noise at hearing both of his favorite voices. He swings his tiny fists, and Javier grabs one of his hands, “If this one wasn’t so fixated on playing peek-a-boo, he’d agree. Suppose we all have our vices.”

You move past him with a roll of your eyes and a smile on your face. You go to check the food on the stove, and from behind you, Javier sniffs the air. He walks to join you by the counter, “What are you making?”

“Tu favorito (your favorite),” you smile at Sebastian instead of looking at him, leaning in to bump your nose with his tiny one. Sebastian grabs at your face. 

“No te merezco, mi amor (I don’t deserve you, my love).”

“We eat in twenty minutes,” you inform after lovingly shaking your head at him. He leans in to kiss you again and you know immediately that this is just one of many kisses you will get tonight. 

“Where are the rascals?” He asks. 

“In the garden,” you reply and open your arms, “Give him here and go say hi. Inés has been going on about you all day, so please save me from hearing more about her super-duper-awesome Daddy.”

Carefully, Javier hands over Sebastian, “I thought you liked her super-duper-awesome Daddy.”

“I think I might actually love him,” you grin and try not to feel silly at your sappiness because you do actually love him so much that it is stupid. Sebastian clings to you as soon as he smells you, resting his head on your shoulder and bunching his fists in your shirt.

Javier kisses you once more before heading to the door to the garden. You hear him leave it open, and watch him go outside and step off the porch with a hello. 

“Hey there, gremlins!” He shouts. Inés and Lucas, both engrossed in their own activities, look up at the same time. Their faces light up at the sight of their father, but Inés is the one who makes a noise so loud that you can hear it in the kitchen as if she’s speaking right next to you. 

Both of them come charging whilst shouting for him. you smile fondly at the sight of them colliding with their father who lets himself be knocked backward into the grass with a happy laugh. He wraps his arms around them and squeezes them tightly, “How’ve you been? I’ve missed you.”

They both look up at his face, speaking enthusiastically at the same time until he can barely tell what is going on. Their stories of the events of the last three days weave together until it is nonsense, and they don’t seem to notice that he cannot follow along with what they are saying. He ruffles their hair and sits up with them still cradled in the crooks of his arms, “Wow wow wow, uno a la  vez (one at a time).”

“I made a tower of blocks that was taller than me!” Inés says proudly and Lucas seems to let her have the spotlight for a moment. He knows that she’ll get distracted and run away soon anyway, giving him his own chance at talking to his father. Inés talks loudly, “Mommy took a picture. She said that you needed the evi— evin— uhh… evindance.”

“Evidence,” Lucas corrects her with a superior smirk. 

“That’s what I said,” she huffs. 

“Nuh-uh,” her brother protests and ducks out from underneath his father’s arm. 

“Ya-huh!” Inés removes herself from the embrace too. 

“Alright, that’s enough,” Javier chuckles, “I’ll have to ask mamá for your picture. It sounds really cool.”

“Can we build one together?” She asks with a hopeful voice, “Pleeease.”

“Let’s save it for after dinner, mija (my daughter), okay?” He suggests, “And then I’ll build a tower that’s double the size of you before you gotta sleep.”

“Really? When?” Inés reveals that she still has no real concept of time. 

“After dinner, baby,” he says again, winking at Lucas who grins, “Go ask Mommy when we’re eating.” 

She is up in no time, running towards you in the kitchen. It leaves Lucas the perfect opportunity to have his moment. He gets up from the ground, his jeans covered in green patches, and starts walking towards the swing set that Javier built a few years ago. 

“Dad, you need to see what I’ve learned!” He says. 

“Alright, let’s see,” Javier pushes himself to stand with a groan and follows, crossing his arms over his chest and watching his son get onto the seat of the swing. By clutching the chains tightly, Lucas pulls himself to carefully stand up on the swing seat. 

Javier finds himself about to protest, instinctively holding out a hand to be ready for a potential fall. However, Lucas seems to have everything under control as he holds the chains tightly with both hands. He speaks as he starts swaying back and forth, looking hopeful for approval from who he knows to be the bravest man in his world, “I practiced all day yesterday!” 

“Eres increíble (you’re incredible)!” Javier cheers but then smiles smugly, “Does mom know you’re doing that?” 

“She told me not to,” he admits shyly. 

“Well, I haven’t seen anything,” Javier winks. 

“Thanks, Dad,” it sounds genuine, happy to keep a secret. Lucas lights up, “Wanna see me jump?”

“Even your old dad has limits,” Javier laughs with a shake of his head, “Get down from there. No jumping.”

“Fine,” his son grumbles. 

When he is on the ground, you pop your head out of the door to call them inside, “Dinner time,  chicos  (guys). Lucas, come in here and wash your hands.”

You smile as they approach, and when Lucas has walked past you, you stop Javier in the doorway and curl your fingers around his tie, “You better wash them too, Peña.”

—

The sun hangs low on the horizon when dinner ends. You start gathering the plates and glasses, and Lucas joins in without hesitation which gives Javier a glimpse of what happens when he isn’t home to take care of you. Maybe his son can sense your exhaustion too. He feels a pang of guilt in his stomach but decides to make up for it by getting his daughter ready for bed. 

“Come on, mija (my daughter),” he says, picking Inés up from the floor and throwing her over his shoulder to make her laugh, “Pajamas first and then building blocks.”

He carries her upstairs to the bathroom and helps her into her pajamas, braids her hair the way she likes it, and then gets her toothbrush. She spends the whole time babbling about how she’ll grow taller like her mother and thus they’ll have to build a higher tower each day. 

“Open up,” he says, sitting on the lid of the toilet with her standing between his legs. He holds her toothbrush in front of her mouth. 

“Do you think I’ll be taller than you someday?” She asks with her childlike eyes, and Javier has to tap her chin to make her remember to open her lips. 

“No, because I’ll just wear very big shoes, even if my head bumps against the ceiling,” he tells her with a grin, “C’mon, teeth brushing time.”

Inés grimaces but follows through and he has to shush her several times because she wants to keep talking.She even sports impatience on her face as her father wipes down her mouth with a damp flannel to rid it of leftover toothpaste. She looks ready to bolt out of the door, fidgeting slightly on the spot, “You promised we could build a tower before bed.”

“And we can,” he reassures, turning the flannel over to wipe the tip of her nose playfully. She crinkles it and reaches up to rub it afterward when he moves to hang it on the laundry basket, “But we’re getting ready for bed first. Hair okay?”

She nods, not entirely convinced that she gets to stay up longer after having brushed her teeth but when Javier has put her toothbrush back in its place in the medicine cabinet, she beams as he allows her to run off to her room. He follows behind, arms stretched out in front of himself, “I’m coming to get you, mija (my daughter)!”

“Nooo!” She squeals in delight, trying to barricade the door with her tiny body but he is too fast and manages to reach her before she can even close it. He picks her up by her middle and holds her upside down, shaking her gently while  she laughs and laughs. 

“Mi monita (my little monkey),” he laughs too. 

They spend half an hour as the architects of a tall and colorful skyscraper, Inés too impatient to see the tower reach her own height to care much for aesthetics. Javier tries suggesting a storyline of a castle but his daughter shakes her head. 

“Stop, Daddy,” she commands and he holds up his hands in surrender. 

“So no princesses live here?” He questions, “Not even a dragon? Or maybe a—” 

“No,” she deadpans, steadfast just like Javier’s father has told him he was. He smiles when she isn’t looking, not about to get scolded by a 4-year-old for not taking their playtime seriously. He enjoys the little moments he has like these, seeing the way his daughter imitates his own behavior in a way that would make your teasing never-ending if you saw it. At that moment, he despises himself and his job because he has to leave sometimes and thus misses out on things. He should have been here when Inés built a tower as tall as herself by herself, not see it in a photograph later. 

Eventually, the construction gets too tall for her to build it even taller. Javier is put to work immediately after she realizes this, and she oversees his work with important nods and looks of assessment. 

“Look, Daddy!” She exclaims with each building block that Javier places on top of another. She stands beside the tower because she needs to compare her height to it, and Javier has to keep a hand on her shoulder to steady her when she gets close to making it tumble down, “Do you think it will reach the ceiling?”

“One day I’m sure it’ll reach the moon,” he replies as if it is a fact, “I for sure am tall enough.”

“No, you’re not,” she furrows her brow, thinking, “But we will just have to get a very big ladder.”

Finally, Javier has built a tower double her size. It stands wobbly on the floor. He nods towards it, “There you go, mi amor (my love), do you want to put the last block on top? The triangular one?” 

She nods and he notices the telltale signs of Inés’ tiredness because her eyes have started drooping. She rubs them with a little sigh, and then holds out her arms so he can pick her up and place her on his hip. 

She places the block carefully on top after Javier hands it to her. It is like all energy reserves have been used up from one moment to another. However, he doesn’t want to risk the unsteady tower falling over in the middle of the night, so he whispers in his most mischievous voice, “Do you want to knock it down?”

“Can I?” She widens her eyes. 

“Sí, pero no se lo digas a tu mamá (yes, but don’t tell your mom),” he confirms, “Perhaps a big angry monkey swung from it whilst roaring like this!”

He imitates King Kong the best he can and is thankful she has no clue what it is, and she repeats after him only to push on the stacked blocks until they tumble to the floor. He kicks the remaining pieces with his foot, and she roars again. They laugh together until she yawns.

“Alright, es hora de dormir (it’s time to sleep),” he announces then, and she doesn’t protest. He shifts her slightly in his arms so she can wrap herself around him with both her arms and legs, burying her face in his shoulder. It’s clear that she has missed him. He rubs her back with both hands before holding her in place, moving towards the bed in the corner of her room. 

Gently, he lays her down and crouches down beside her afterward. He pulls the covers up over her head on purpose and earns a giggle, “Oh no, where did Inés go?”

“You’re silly, Papá,” she says. 

“Go to sleep, baby,” he tells her after tucking her in properly this time, “You are so tired. I will see you tomorrow.”

“Thank you for playing with me,” Inés says with a yawn, turning on her side to look at him better. She softens a little as her eyes start to flutter closed, her father’s hand running over her head. Another yawn comes, “Te quiero, Papá. No me gusta cuando te vas y no me gusta extrañarte (I love you, Dad. I don’t like it when you leave and I don’t like missing you).”

Javier sucks in a breath. He rubs the spot between her eyebrows, trying to keep his composure, “Lo sé, mi vida (I know, my life). I love you too. Sleep well, okay?”

“Okay,” she slurs, and then her breathing slows. He tucks her in one last time, leaning in to kiss her hair softly before stretching carefully to his full height. He makes sure to turn on her night light before turning off the overhead lights, closing the door ever so gently afterward.

He lets out a deep breath right outside her room and smooths two fingers over his mustache. He hasn’t told you about this yet but he is considering quitting his job, has been considering it very seriously since Christmas when he promised to cut down on work significantly to be home a lot more with you and the kids. That and the fact that you are carrying his fourth child, and leaving you home alone with all four in the future just seems cruel.

However, it’s a comment like the one he has just received from his only daughter that sets it in stone. His search for other jobs is not a mere idea any longer but rather a necessity if he wants to continue being happy with his family. 

He has to tell you and he is dying to already, but first, he wants to unpack and then tuck Lucas in too. He has three days of goodnights to catch up on. 

—

He enters Lucas’ room half an hour later to the familiar sound of his son’s Game Boy, its rhythmic beeps and pings accompanied by the frantic tapping on its buttons. Lucas is sitting cross-legged in his bed, already wearing his pajamas and with his face illuminated by the screen of his console. 

“Hey Dad, can you knock? I’m losing my concentration,” his son says without looking up from the screen, already sounding so grown up that Javier has to tighten his grip around the doorknob. Where did the time go? 

“Ay, Lucas,” he tuts and crosses the room to stand by the bed, “Soy tu padre (I’m your father).”

“I just really don’t want to lose,” he explains and starts tapping away on the buttons again, his stare still fixed on the little jumping character. Javier waits for a moment, following his game by looking over his shoulder. 

When enough time has passed and Lucas seems to relax a bit more, he interrupts again, “Alright, time for bed, muchacho (young man).” 

“One more game!” Lucas finally looks up with pleading eyes. The boy sports the same puppy-look in them that you have said Javier does himself, and it was only when he looked into Lucas’ pleading face the first time that he realized what you meant. The look is damn near impossible to say no to. 

“Fine, but I’m taking it afterward unless you promise me not to play all night,” he says firmly, “Even Mario has to sleep at some point.”

“I will!” He reassures quickly, “Only five minutes more, I promise.”

“But I want to talk to you about something first,” he holds out his hand for the gaming console, “Dámelo (Give it to me). It’s important you listen.”

“Am I in trouble?” Lucas reluctantly hands his most precious belonging to his father who places it on the nightstand. 

“What? No, mijo (my son),” Javier gets Lucas under the covers, tucks him in, and then sits down on the edge of the bed, “How would you like it if I got to spend more time at home with you all?”

“What do you mean?” Lucas tilts his head in confusion.

“Can you keep a secret from Mom?” He asks with a gentle smile. Lucas nods. He continues, “I’m quitting my job soon.”

“Really?!” Lucas exclaims with pure shock on his face.

“Shh, your sister and your brother are asleep down the hall,” he shushes, holding a finger in front of his mouth.

“Really?” He whispers instead. 

“Absolutely, really,” Javier whispers back and Lucas’ eyes sparkle with excitement. He sits up in bed, pushing the covers aside to crawl into his father’s arms. Maybe he isn’t so grown up after all. Javier hugs him back and kisses his hair, “I’ve been thinking that spending more time with you, your brother and your sister is what I’ve been missing. I don’t like  leaving you here to be the big boy of the house when I’m not here.”

He continues when Lucas tightens his arms around him. He muses, “And even if I’ll still have a job, there’ll be more time for game nights and football in the garden. Would you like that?”

Lucas nods into his shoulder. Javier chuckles softly, "But remember, es nuestro secreto (it’s our secret) until I talk to Mom about it. We want to make sure she's on board with the plan, yeah?”

Lucas pulls back and nods eagerly, looking like he is already daydreaming of the extra time he'll get to spend with his father. However, there’s a tinge of anxiety in his excitement, and his voice is an unsure whisper when he speaks his concern, "Dad, what if Mom doesn't like the idea? What if she gets upset?"

“She understands how important our family time is. Trust me, te prometo (I promise) everything will be okay," he says with a reassuring smile. 

“But what will your new job be?” Lucas continues, “Will it be something cool?”

“I think I might start teaching people how to catch bad guys like I used to do,” he shrugs.

Lucas grimaces, “You’re gonna be a teacher?”

“Alright, that’s enough,” he laughs, “Bedtime.”

“You said one more game!” He protests. 

Javier gets up to grab the Game Boy off the nightstand. He holds it out for his son and yanks it away when he tries to take it, “One.”

“I promise,” he says and takes it when he is allowed. 

“And your father is actually very cool,” Javier moves to turn off the lights. He can already hear the theme tune of Lucas’ game, “Buenas noches (goodnight).”

“Buenas noches, papá, te quiero,” Lucas beams in the few seconds he looks up. 

“Y yo a tí, mijo (I love you too, my son),” he says and flicks the switch. 

“They’re asleep,” Javier says as he enters the kitchen a few minutes later. He finds you leaning against the counter with a glass of alcohol-free red wine in your hand. The bottle stands on the counter behind you, its contents half-emptied as if it's been your only way of treating yourself in the evenings after the kids have gone to bed. You look tired from having been alone with all three of them - one of them still an infant - for three days and with a secret baby in your belly to top it off. 

Chucho had offered to help you out but you had politely declined so as to not ask for too much of your father-in-law, not be too much of an inconvenience when he has so much to do at the ranch with getting ready for the Spring. 

“I’m about to be too,” you say after a sip of your glass. 

“When I’ve finally gotten you to myself?” Javier tuts and steps closer to you, stopping when he is right in front of you. He checks the baby monitor on the kitchen counter next to the wine bottle and then he takes the glass off your hand, setting it aside as well. 

His hands find your sides afterward, cupping your waist for a moment before they slide around your body so he can pull you in for a long and desperate kiss. You rest your arms on his shoulders, cradling his head as he moves his mouth with yours. It is nothing but pure ecstasy to feel him like this again, so much that you forget to breathe and have to pull away too soon. 

You know he is the same when he sucks a breath in at the same time as you. However, instead of kissing you again, he lets you catch your breath and hugs you close to his chest. His body feels warm, an instant smile forming on your face as he squeezes you. 

“Hi,” you say, sounding drunk despite the wine having no alcohol. His arms are a harbor, the very definition of the end of unhappiness. They’re strong and enough to make your head swim, holding you with the promise of never being apart except for physically. 

You feel his breath against your ear, “Hey, mamá.”

“I’m so glad you’re home with me again,” you close your eyes as you inhale through your nose, letting the scent of him flood your system. 

Javier pulls back and stares at you for a moment. He smirks, a mischievous gleam appearing in his eyes. Then he lets go of you to reach up and teasingly pull down your top to look down into it. 

“Ay, Javi,” you scold with a roll of your eyes. 

“What?” He acts oblivious. 

“You’re acting insane, and I’m trying to be genuine.”

“I haven’t seen you in three days, mi amor (my love), you can’t blame me,” he protests your accusation, “Besides, this is me being very genuine.”

“Missed you too,” you sigh. 

“And I’ve missed you, Jesus,” he wraps his arms around your waist again, pulls you closer to his body, and uses every opportunity to kiss you after each sentence, “Missed these tits. Missed your gorgeous pussy. You gotta let me have it tonight, mamácita.” 

“Take me upstairs then,” you lean your head back when he presses his lips to your throat, “We’re not doing it in the kitchen. Against popular belief.”

Javier snorts, “But we always—“

“I said against popular belief, baby,” you stress. 

“Fine, c’mere then,” his arms slide down over your hips, and when they reach your knees, he scoops you up with his strong arms and lifts you over his shoulder. You answer with a yelp that turns into a panicked laugh but he simply smacks your ass and starts walking. In the middle of the chaos, you manage to reach for the baby monitor on the counter. 

“You are incorrigible,” you say with a dramatic sigh.

“Yes, wife, yes, wife good, I like wife,” he replies in his best caveman accent and you snicker all the way up the stairs, legs dangling over his shoulder and ready to scold him each time he gropes your ass. 

When he throws you down on the bed, you are having a full-on laughing fit and the bubbling in your chest feels so good. Even better, when he looms over you by the end of the bed while unbuttoning his shirt, only to crawl on top of you. He kisses your wine-stained lips, scooping you up into his arms and you return his embrace after throwing the baby monitor on the bed. 

“I love your laugh,” he says softly when he needs a breath, bumping your noses together. 

“You just kidnapped me from the kitchen, that’s no laughing matter,” you tease. He doesn’t hesitate to kiss your neck while you talk. 

“Then why are you giggling like a schoolgirl?” He places a hand on your belly that still keeps a secret between the two of you. No one knows yet. 

There is concentration on his face when his hand moves up under your top, smoothing the fabric up until you stretch your arms above your head to help him rid it off of your body. 

“Hmm,” you think out loud, “Maybe because I have this terrible schoolgirl crush on you.”

“Really? I thought marriage was just a matter of convenience,” he chuckles and kisses your neck again. You lay your hands on his shoulders, smoothing them over the broadness of his bare skin that’s been missing underneath your fingertips and pushing him down towards your chest. 

“This is pretty good too, most convenient,” you note with a grin as he follows your silent order, moving his mouth south on you until he plants kisses between your breasts. You reach underneath your back to undo your bra, and he peels it off of you and sighs with satisfaction as soon as he has your upper body naked. 

“Look at you,” he groans, throwing the bra to the side and diving back into you. He kisses the swell of your right breast, “You make me so fucking horny.”

You throw your head back as he lets the flat of his tongue trail wetly from one breast to the other. He sucks a nipple into his mouth and earns his first moan, to which he presses his clothed crotch into your thigh to show you how hard he is already. 

“I’ve been wet since I saw you at the door,” you admit, “Been thinking of your cock inside of me each night. So fucking lonely without you.”

“You should have called me,” he mutters, mouth going further down on your body until he reaches the hem of your jeans. He undoes the button and zipper, yanking them over your hips and pulling them off your legs. 

“I was too busy screwing myself,” you tell him and he immediately finds your eyes. That clearly hit a spot, “You like that, huh?”

“Tell me about it,” he struggles a little with the jeans as they sit around your ankles, but the desperation has him yanking them off with enough enthusiasm to pull you along. 

“If you weren’t trying to drag me onto the floor— oh, shit.”

Javier has dragged your underwear along with the jeans, and he is now sinking two fingers deep inside of your dripping cunt and pressing them upwards. It’s what you get for being snarky, you suppose, staring down at him as he fucks you open on his digits. 

“Your mouth— ah, put your mouth on me,” you try to command. 

“Quiet down, baby. I literally just put the kids to bed. You want them running in here?” He shushes you with an amused grin, adding a third finger to your squelching cunt to make you groan, “While I’m wearing you like a puppet?” 

You rock against his hand with a chuckle that develops into a moan, “Imagine the conversation that’ll start.”

“I’d rather have a conversation about how filthy you’ve been while I was away,” he speeds up his fingers to make you cry out against your hand but he doesn’t make you come, changing his mind halfway there to follow through on your request, “No, actually I’ll have you monologue about it because I’m going to eat your pussy as you do it.”

You tremble as he takes your clit in his mouth, easing his tongue over the hard nub over and over again whilst timing it with the strokes of his fingers. You feel so full of his digits, and it takes you a moment to trust yourself not to cry at the ceiling the second you remove your hand from your mouth. 

“Took a long shower the day before yesterday, after the kids had gone to school and Seb was napping,” you begin with shaking breaths. You need to start the sentence three times before you can make your words make sense, “Used the faucet on the bathtub and came so goddamn hard. You should’ve seen me with my legs up against the wall.”

Below you, Javier hums in approval and it vibrates through your throbbing pussy. You continue.

“I imagined you going down on me with your warm tongue, circling my clit— yes, just like that,” just talking about it makes you gush from how horny it makes you, wetness dripping past Javier’s lips and into his mouth. He groans against you and mouths at your pulsing clit. You find yourself much closer from how well your body remembers the orgasm you had in the shower; the warm water pounding rhythmically against your clit, your toes curling, and— and. 

You grind into his mouth and fuck yourself on his fingers as you come, the hot and heavy feeling of an orgasm crashing over you and intensifying as it peaks. You have to bite your lip to keep from screaming, still not managing to keep the high-pitched ah! from reverberating through the room. Javier’s fingers feel so much bigger inside of you as your cunt strangles them, and when you look down at him, you see that he is crashing his hips against the bed to feel just a bit of relief. 

You have lost all restraint in your noises as you feel the pleasure ebb out, leaving you a whimpering and panting mess on the bed that wants it all. Somehow you are deeply satisfied at the same time as knowing that this is not enough; you need all of him, and you need him inside of your cunt until you can barely move from the spot. The fact that your body still works when he pulls his fingers from you is an indication of not having had enough. 

“Need to fuck you,” he says from below you, crawling on top of you. He has left a damp spot on the sheets from where his cock has dragged against them, and he looks like he is in pain at this point if he doesn’t get to feel you around him, “Now, mi amor (my love).”

“No,” you stop him as he tries spreading your legs with a gentle yet hurried hand.

“No?” His brows furrow, a protest on the tip of his tongue. 

“Let me ride you,” you beg, already pushing on his shoulders and feeling how he is giving in in an instant, “Please, I want you so deep in me.”

“Yes, yeah, okay,” he breathes, moving to lie on his back with a pillow under his head. You shake as you lift yourself to straddle him, holding out your arms in front of yourself to signal that you want him to be close to you. He reads you without you saying anything and sits up in your bed so you can be chest to chest. 

You reach beneath yourself to take hold of the base of his cock, holding him in place so you can sink down on his shaft until he is buried inside of you to the hilt. You are dripping wet. The motion of engulfing him in your heat is smooth and effortless, and the moans the both of you let out are closer to whines because you are so starved. 

“It’s so good, you’re so wet, baby,” he mumbles quietly in your ear, nosing along the spot behind it. You arch into him, nodding without any words coming to your mind. Instead, you let out a soft gasp as he fucks up into you. 

Nothing describes being this close to him after not even being able to kiss him for three days. Other couples would shake their heads if they knew how desperate you get from merely three days apart. You only feel sorry for them. They don’t get how your days are spent with taking every opportunity to lay eyes on each other, breathe and taste each other or even just being able to put a hand on each other’s shoulder, hip, the small of the back. 

“Let me,” you pant as he moves underneath you, sending you into a state where you need to concentrate if you want to get out a proper sentence, “I want to fuck this cock. Please, let me.”

Javier stills his hips underneath you. He seems to be holding his breath as he watches you place your hands on his shoulders and then feel them slide behind his head to tilt his head backward. He looks up at you as you start moving on him, rocking in his lap so he barely pulls out of you. 

“Come on, that’s a good girl,” he says when he finally sucks in a breath, eyes gazing up at you with a pussydrunk look in them. When they glaze over like this, you know his words will be ravenous and never-ending, “Fuck, baby. That’s it. There you go. Let me touch you so deep inside.”

It doesn’t take long for him to be distracted by your moving chest as you sensually drag your hips over his thick cock. He did tell you that he had missed your breasts but that had been in a slightly playful manner; you never thought that you would actually start to feel beautiful under his hungry eyes. It shouldn’t come as a shock to you because he always knows how to make you feel desirable. 

“Attagirl,” he groans, holding your hip tightly with his right hand to help you keep your balance, “God, look at those pretty tits.”

You arch your back as he puts his other hand on your left breast, bending his head down to mouth along the swell until he reaches your nipple. He swirls his tongue once but it is too hard to keep going when you move more frantically on top of him to pleasure yourself, so instead, he wraps his whole mouth around the hardened, spit-slicked peak and sucks until your cunt clamps down in surprise of how good it feels.

“Fuck,” you pant, closing your eyes. The noises of him sucking on your breasts fill your ears and along with how it is making your belly swirl, it makes you impossibly wetter, coating his dick in a milky-white ring. A lewd thought enters your mind. Perhaps, he keeps knocking you up because of this; your cup size has remained the same for a while because you’ve been breastfeeding for months now, and with another baby on its way, you know that the months will keep adding up in the near future.

A drop slips into his mouth and spurs him on to give you a thorough taste. Your brows pull together as a more high-pitched moan leaves your open mouth and he pulls back to shush you gently. Then he sucks greedily again. 

You had once asked him why he loved this, and he had replied that the very fact that you were producing milk so sweet to nurture his child went straight to his dick. 

“Javi,” you whine to tell him just how you feel. He removes his mouth from your sensitive chest to talk, albeit reluctantly. However, when he notices the change in your sounds and your pitch, he doesn’t want to look away from your face again until he has seen you lose it. 

“Oh, you wanna come, huh? Then fuck me,” he says with milk-stained lips. You move desperately in his lap as he spurs you on, feeling the head of his cock dragging back and forth inside of you, laying against your g-spot perfectly if you tilt your hips just a bit. Javier’s eyes burn as they stare up at you but he cannot help himself from occasionally glancing down at your bouncing tits. Your need to come grows, and when you press down slightly harder, you see stars behind your eyelids. A second orgasm tears through you, and one of the hands that has gripped your hip hard enough to bruise comes up to cover your mouth because you start screaming. It’s so intense to have missed him so much. 

“There she is,” he growls lowly, watching your face contort with pleasure until tears slide down your face and underneath his palm that’s tightly secured over your whining mouth, “That’s my good girl. You know how to come on this fucking cock, fuck, you feel so good, mi vida (my life), choking my dick. Keep going— no no, don’t stop, ride through it, baby.”

You force yourself to continue moving and keep crying into his hand, wet from drool and tears by now. The oversensitivity is mind-numbing, toe-curling, and somehow still not enough.

“Almost made me come, mi chica sucía y desesperada (my dirty, eager girl),” he says through a breathless chuckle but then raises his brows as your pitch starts climbing once again. You have successfully bypassed your body and started building up another high, “You’re gonna come again? Díos mio (my God), my beautiful wife is insatiable.”

Any chance of talking back at him is lost because you would wake up the whole neighborhood if he dared remove his hand from your mouth. To put his filthy mouth in its place, you start bouncing in his lap to the point where his naked thighs crash harshly into your ass. The sound of skin slapping against skin is dirty but Javier’s desperate groans are obscene. He can barely talk now without his voice wavering, and with the way he repeats himself, you know he is doing everything in his power to let you come one more time before he bursts, “Use my cock, yes like that. K-keep going— you’re gonna make me come. Oh fuck.” 

When he notices that you are trying to say something, he removes his hand and allows you a single sentence before clamping the hand down over your mouth again. 

“I can’t do it anymore,” you whimper with exhaustion, thighs having started to tremble with the effort you are putting into bouncing in his lap. They hurt at this point, straining despite how much you also use your arms to steer yourself.

“Don’t worry about it, Go until you can’t fucking do it anymore and I’ll take over, yeah?” He nods at you when you make a mhm-noise into his hand, eyes encouraging and his breaths less composed. 

When you come a second time on his dick, you falter immediately. The sensation of the pleasure that has built up so fast again crashes down and takes you with it in its fall. You are silent when it’s teetering on the edge, and then it makes your voice crack when you feel the first tug behind your throbbing clit. 

There is only the feeling of your convulsing cunt making you believe in a higher power - in this case, Javier fucking Peña - and then said higher power wrapping his arm around your sticky back to lift you up and down. He snaps his hips upwards to use your body for his own pleasure, and after a series of frantic movements, he comes with a groan. The feeling of his warm spill inside of you has you whimpering, and you try your best to rock your hips the best your exhausted body can. If it weren’t for all the dopamine in your system, you are sure it would hurt. 

“Yes, yes, yesyesyes. Oh, baby, fuck the come out of me, yes, that’s it,” he chants underneath you as he fills you up, moving to meet you halfway until he also has no more to give.  When he stills, he grabs your face to smash your lips together in a messy, desperate kiss that is more teeth than anything else. It feels impossible to get close enough to him, even if your chests stick together from sweat.

A moment later, you fall down onto his chest with a chuckle, head swimming from what you have just done. Your arms lie on either side of his head, and your cheek is pressed into his hair. You can feel his nose dig into your shoulder, inhaling you and your post-sex scent, and his arms tighten around your waist as he hugs you close. 

“That was fantastic,” you groan with him still inside of you. He gives you one more thrust, pressing his hips upwards, and you half-moan in oversensitivity and half-laugh in surprise, “Stop it, Peña.”

He laughs breathlessly, placing a kiss on your bare skin. Then he slips out of you with a grunt, and you feel his come drip from you already, down onto his cock and thighs. He rubs your sides with his broad hands, “I have missed you as well, you know.”

“I don’t ever want you to go again,” you demand sillily. 

“You say that every time.”

“I mean it every time.”

There’s a pause between the two of you. It lasts several minutes where you just lie on top of his chest. 5, 10, 15 minutes pass. Javier says nothing yet you know him well enough to know that he is considering his words. 

“I was thinking of something,” he finally says. 

You sit up at that, “What?” 

“You know how I said something about work during Christmas? That I wanted to be more home with you and the kids, that it would make me happier?” He begins, looking up at you and not hesitating in his eye contact with you. 

You suddenly pay a lot more attention, “Yeah?”

“I was thinking that since I will have a bunch of kids to carry around a lot more years from now, I can’t be running around in the force anymore. My back is fucking killing me, and I also want to make love to my wife on the regular,” he tells you and you know instantly that it’s serious even if he says it with a chuckle, “I was thinking of teaching at the local college. They have a criminology course, and with my time in school with my head in the books - I mean, my bachelor’s degree - it shouldn’t be a problem to get a job there.”

“Are you serious?” You gape at him. 

“Yes, of course, I am,” he furrows his brow slightly. Only now, he looks unsure but still keeps talking, “It would mean nothing of this sort either; me going away.”

“Babe, that’s amazing,” you fall down into him again, causing an umph-noise from your husband, and then you crash your lips into his. You kiss him as if your life depended on it, sliding your fingers through his dark hair and tugging slightly as if trying to get him even closer to you. 

He looks drunk and disheveled when you pull back again, a goofy and satisfied smile on his face. His fingers scratch slightly along your back, “You’d like that, huh?”

“Yes, please,” you beam with happiness. 

“Then you shall have it, mi vida (my life),” his hands travel down to your ass which he gropes obscenely, and when you make a noise, he smacks your right cheek. You feel his cock, hard again, poke into your thigh.

You look down between you, “This is a surprise. I thought you’d gotten old…”

“Like I said…” He grabs your waist and pulls you down to lie on your back. A yelp escapes your lips. 

He is inside of you mere seconds after, causing you to longingly whine. He thrusts once then twice, and you throw your head back to take it, “…I’ve missed you.”

.

.

If you would like to follow my writing then go follow @notjustjavierpena-fics and turn on notifications 💖❤️

[wonhes]

— ONE YEAR LATER —

WARNINGS: MDNI !!!! this is my failed attempt at writing smut in a way 😞 idk but sohee is a tiddie man here 👍 mentions of cumming, sucking dick and tits, and fingering, dry humping is heavily implied. so, basically reader and sohee are getting freaky. sohee is vv needy. don’t hate please i don’t usually write this, this was hard for me 😭

☁︎ — AUGUST 8TH, 2025 9:13 AM

“okay these are cool enough,” anton mumbles to himself while getting a batch of cupcakes out and placing them in front of seunghan. handing him the frosting, anton briefly turns towards where he was previously standing to get another apron.

“get the frosting and start decorating them,” anton orders as he throws seunghan an apron before quickly turning back to re-read the ingredients he needs for the next cupcake batch.

“having a mental bake down,” seunghan reads out loud as he extends the apron the younger boy gave him. “i think this one suits you better,” seunghan snickers out as he watches anton stressfully tug at his hair.

“what?” anton asks, turning in his ‘i cook as good as i look’ apron. “whatever. seunghan, just put it on and start decorating the cupcakes!”

letting out a small chuckle at anton’s frustrated expression, seunghan nods his head and begins putting on the apron. concentrated, he rolls up his sleeves as he gets the icing bag anton gave him and starts gently squeezing the icing out.

“more eggs!” anton randomly yells out once he sees the egg carton empty. jumping at anton’s sudden voice, seunghan accidentally squeezes the icing bag much harder than he anticipated, causing the icing to messily overflow on top of the cupcake.

“fuck!” seunghan mumbles to himself, wide eyed as he quickly scrambles to hide the cupcake away from anton’s sight.

not taking any notice to his older friend’s actions, anton quickly walks towards the refrigerador and takes hold of the egg carton. watching as the taller boy returns back to his spot, seunghan lets out a sigh of relief before choosing to continue hiding the cupcake away from anton and work on the rest of the batch.

not another minute goes by before they hear the doorbell ringing. groaning, anton immediately shakes his head, silently choosing to ignore the doorbell.

“i’ll get it-” seunghan replies only for anton to ignore him.

“busy!” anton yells out. playfully rolling his eyes at anton’s actions, seunghan makes his way to the licubg room to go open the front door. “hey, no! you have to finish decorating the cupcakes!”

“seunghan, there’s no time! get back here!” anton yells out in disbelief once more. rolling his eyes yet again at the younger boy, seunghan opens the front door and immediately lets out a sigh of relief.

“oh, thank god!” seunghan sighs out, quickly stepping out the door to hug his friends. “he’s being insufferable,” he mumbles against eunseok’s chest.

“wait—” seunghan says while he detangles himself from eunseok to get a better look at him. “don’t you have a key?”

“anton took it away from him,” sungchan snickers out causing eunseok to send him a glare.

“what about you?” seunghan curiously asks, turning to look at SOHEE; still confused on why they rang the doorbell.

“i do,” sohee confirms. “eunseok threatened to steal it away from me so i thought ringing the doorbell would be the safest option.”

“everyone move!” wonbin suddenly yells out, pushing everyone aside. “everything has to be perfect,” he states as he makes a beeline straight towards the kitchen to help out anton.

laughing at his words, shotaro walks right behind him. shrugging his shoulders, sungchan follows while patting sohee’s back to signal him to come inside as well.

waiting for sohee to step inside, eunseok pulls seunghan aside. “i’m still going to steal it away from him,” he openly admits, eyeing sohee’s pocket before also stepping inside the house.

taking off his shoes near the entrance, sohee discreetly watches as his friends put on aprons while anton gives them all different orders. looking at the staircase, he decides to tiptoe his way up the stairs. quietly and slowly, sohee continues making his way up to your room.

“wait, where’s sohee?” anton eyed his friends, confused on where the shorter boy was. with wide eyes, sohee picks up his pace and runs to your bedroom door.

panicking, sohee knocks on your door multiple times as he turns around to make sure anton wasn’t magically standing behind him. “c’mon,” he whispers to himself, not wanting to get caught.

“pretty girl,” sohee mumbles as he continues to knock on your door. “open the door please!”

“ba-” he tries again but gets caught off by your door opening. at the sight of you, sohee instantly closes his mouth as he eyes you up and down. taking notice of you standing in front of him in just a towel, he suddenly feels his cheeks heating up and turn a bright shade of red. “h-hi,” sohee stutters out, wide eyed.

giggling at his expression, you take his hand and bring him inside your room before closing the door behind you. taking a sit on your bed, sohee continues to eye your frame before turning an even darker shade of red when getting caught.

“you’ve literally seen me naked before,” you playfully roll your eyes at him as you walk towards where he was now sitting.

“have i?” sohee asks while wrapping his arms around your waist. “i don't think i remember, can you remind me?” he asks, completely ignoring his rapid beating heart as he brings your body even closer to his.

laughing at him, you shake your head as you place your hands on his shoulder to balance yourself. laughing along with you, sohee places sweet delicate kisses on your collarbone. feeling goosebumps at the sudden contact, you quietly gasp as you subconsciously move your neck back to allow more access.

smirking at your reaction, sohee moves his hands and guides you to sit on his lap. too focused on your pleasure, you instantly obey and sit yourself down. groaning at the feeling of your naked body on top of his, sohee starts leaving a trail of wet kisses on your neck before sucking lightly behind your ear.

“you’re perfect,” your boyfriend whispers out as he continues sucking on your sweet spot. “so perfect.”

“fuck,” you breathlessly mumble out. grabbing a fistful of sohee’s hair, you push him off of you causing him to whine at the loss of contact. looking at him with dark hooded eyes, sohee can’t help but feel his cock twitch in anticipation. using your thumb, you gently caress his bottom lip. lightly parting his lips at your touch, sohee stares up at you waiting for your next move.

placing your hands back on his cheeks, you gently caress his cheeks as you both wordlessly stare at each other. within a blink of an eye you both quickly lean forward and hungrily crash your lips together. with his hands now roaming your body, you quietly moan against your boyfriend’s lips. swiftly moving his hand towards your towel, sohee finally yanks it down, exposing your breasts.

breaking away from you, sohee catches his breath as he eyes your naked body on top of him. bringing a hand to caress your cheek, he places a delicate peck on your lips.

“my pretty girl,” sohee says in complete awe as he moves his attention towards your chest. feeling his mouth water, he wastes no time and places both hands on your chests before giving them a gentle squeeze. whimpering at the feeling, you guide him back to your lips, wanting nothing more but to feel him all over you.

“baby wait-” you say in between kisses but are quickly interrupted by sohee placing his lips on your neck as he continues fondling your chest.

“fuck, sohee,” you mumble out once you feel sohee work his way down to the valley of your breasts and back up to your jaw. using his thumb and index finger, he lightly pinches your nipples causing another soft moan to leave your mouth.

“sohee,” you gasp out, pulling on your boyfriend’s hair as you try and regulate your breathing. whimpering at your actions, sohee swears he’s going to cum in his pants if you keep moaning his name like that.

“mouth, want your mouth,” you breathless gasp out, pushing your boyfriend’s head towards your chest.

“gladly!” sohee excitedly states as he sloppily starts sucking on your breast. he can die here. he so can die here, he thinks. you pulling on his hair while he sucks and plays with your boobs? name a happier ending. his thoughts quickly come to a halt as he lets out a moan at you moving your hips to reposition yourself on his lap.

without thinking twice, sohee brings a hand to push down your hips. you both let out small moans at the sudden pleasure. subconsciously, you immediately begin moving your hips and setting a pace. letting out a broken moan, sohee continues sucking on your breast as he follows your movements. fuck, he’s so close.

“wait, no!” you gasp with realization and push him off of you. bending down, you grab your towel and wrap it around your figure causing sohee to dramatically roll over on your bed.

“no!” sohee yells out, sitting up to offer you his best puppy eyes. “please, just a quickie!”

grabbing your hand, sohee tries placing you back on his lap. “baby please, I swear i’ll be so quick!” he continues to pout at you. “you’re already naked, i won't take long! let me just–” he cuts himself off and starts unbuttoning his vest.

“pretty boy, i have to get ready,” you sadly say, shaking your head at him. groaning, sohee desperately shakes his head at you.

“i’ll be so quick!” your boyfriend desperately pleas, refusing to believe you’re really going to give him blue balls.

“pretty boy-”

“just the tip?” sohee tries, causing you to let out a small giggle.

“pretty boy.” you sternly say, making way towards your vanity desk. following behind you, sohee takes a seat next to you as he continues eyeing your towel.

“can i at least keep sucking your boobs?”

“sohee!” you gasp, dropping your makeup bag at his words.

“here. while you’re doing your makeup! then we both win,” sohee reasons. “you get off while you finish getting ready and i get off as well.”

“do you actually get off to that?” you ask in disbelief.

“pretty girl, your boobs are literally in my mouth and you make pretty sounds,” sohee states, offended by your question. “i get to touch and suck on your boobs and you moan out my name, why wouldn’t that get me off?”

“bonus points if you get so into it and ask me to finger you,” sohee adds, sending you a sheepless smile before leaning forward and pressing a quick kiss on your shoulder.

“what is wrong with you?” you laugh out loud, playfully hitting his chest. “what happened to my shy sohee? the one who would avoid eye contact? the one who’s never kissed anyone before?”

“you made me this way!” sohee giggles out. wrapping his arms around your figure, he leans forward and places a sweet kiss on your cheek. “i’m still your shy loser sohee, i’m just horny,” he quietly admits before placing another kiss on your cheek.

“there’s just something about an educated woman you know?” sohee casually states, causing you to burst out laughing.

looking down at your phone, you read the time before turning to look at sohee. “i mean, finals did get in the way,” you state, placing a hand over his.

“they did,” sohee instantly agrees with you, mentally groaning at the flashbacks of you two having to postpone dates and hangouts due to finals and school work.

“quickie?”

“quickie!” he instantly shouts out with a wide smile on his face. giggling, you climb over to his lap once more.

“thank you, thank you-” sohee says while kissing all over your face. “thank you!” he states one last time before quickly helping you unbutton his shirt. “i need to be inside y-’

“i fucking dare you to finish that sentence sohee,” anton sternly states from the other side of the door. in complete disbelief of what he just accidentally heard, he starts banging at your door.

groaning at your brother’s voice, sohee swears he’s going to cry. whining, he takes a deep breath before bringing some distance between you two. shaking your head at him, you eagerly bring your hands to his pants and begin unbuttoning them. “ignore him,”

“baby i can’t stay hard with his voice in my ear!” sohee pouts out. “he ruined the mood.”

with a swift motion, you take off your towel and throw it on the ground. eyes now on your full and round chest, sohee quickly lifts his hips to help you take off his pants. “matter of fact, yes i can!”

giggling, you eagerly kiss him, while you move your hand to pull on his boxers.

“sohee get the fuck out of there!” groaning, sohee places his head on your shoulder in defeat. “i will not stop banging this door until you get out of there!”

with sad eyes, sohee pats your thighs, signaling you to stand up. pouting at each other, you both move to get dressed.

“i’ll be downstairs,” sohee sadly sighs. turning, he spots a random shirt on your bed and moves to help put it on you. with a pout on your face, you slowly lift up your arms to help your boyfriend get you dressed.

chuckling at your expression, sohee places a soft kiss on your nose before placing one on your pouty lips. “i’m so proud of you baby,” sohee wholeheartedly states.

“i’ll be all the way in the front row shouting my pretty girl’s name,” he admits causing you to let out a small chuckle. “you did it baby! all those restless nights paid off, i’m incredibly proud of you and can’t wait to celebrate with you,” he finishes off, placing another delicate kiss on your lips.

“if i finish getting ready early-” you desperately try while tightly holding his hand.

“don’t even think about it,” anton yells out from the other side of the door. with both you and sohee rolling your eyes at your younger brother, you make your way to your bedroom door to walk him out.

at the sight of anton in front of you two, sohee rolls his eyes once more before purposely bumping into him.

“ow!” anton dramatically rubs his arm as he glares at the shorter boy.

“cockblock,” sohee mumbles before turning to flick his forehead. laughing at anton’s expression, sohee quickly looks back to blow you a kiss before running down the stairs to seek protection from his other friends.

☁︎ — AUGUST 8TH, 2025 12:45 PM

“Y/N LEE” the announcer says through the microphone. with shaky hands, you smile and make your way down the stage. shaking the university’s president’s hand, you briefly pose for the camera.

standing up from his chair, sohee starts cheering while waving the bouquet of flowers he got you up in the air. following his actions, your friends and family also stand up, cheering and clapping along with him causing you to chuckle and wave at them as you walk back to your seat.

“that’s my girlfriend!” sohee proudly yells when the arena simmers down. blushing at his comment, you cover your face with your hands to try and hide your red tinted cheeks. slightly turning to your side, you make eye contact with sohee and offer him a wide smile.

“i love you,” sohee mouths while smiling down at you. with admiration and love written all over his eyes, he continues watching you and only you.

“i love you too,” you quickly mouth back before turning back to watch your classmates walk the stage.

“gross,” anton mumbles with disgust as he watches your interaction with your boyfriend. without a warning, anton feels a hand slap the back of his head. with wide eyes, he turns to his side in complete disbelief.

“behave,” his mom sternly states as she rolls her eyes at her youngest. rubbing the back of his head, anton shakes his head at her comment.

“they’re the ones-”

“anton,” his dad shakes his head at him. rolling his eyes, anton decides to drop it.

“fine,” he responds back while crossing his arms.

smiling at his words, sohee playfully sticks out his tongue at anton but quickly stops when he feels his girlfriend’s and best friend’s dad’s eyes on him.

“sorry,” sohee mumbles out embarrassed, causing your dad to let out a chuckle. shaking his head, he continues silently watching as sohee goes back to focusing on you. he takes notice of sohee’s soft eyes on you. he takes notice of the bright smile that takes over sohee’s features every time you turn to look at him. he takes notice of the love written all over his face. he takes it all in as he faintly smiles and nods his head at the boy.

“treat her right,” your dad whispers out, shifting his focus back at you.

“i always will sir, she’s my everything,” sohee instantly reassures him.

“i trust you,” your dad nods his head once more in acknowledgment. “you know, not now obviously- but in the near future,” he clears his throat, suddenly feeling choked up. “you have my blessing.”

“you mean-”

“yes,” he instantly replies back, offering him a small knowing smile.

wide eyed at his father’s comment, anton turns to sohee and shakes his head at him in complete distress. already knowing what he was going to say, he shuts him eyes and brings his hands up to rub his temples.

“brother in law!” sohee yells out, moving to give his best friend a hug.

“no!” anton responds back causing his group of friends chuckle.

“shotaro,” sohee suddenly turns to his older friend. “start looking up places that sell red velvet wedding cakes,” he jokingly orders. laughing along, shotaro nods his head at him.

“i’m going to choke him,” anton instantly states out loud, moving to place his hands on sohee.

— BONUS —

2 YEARS LATER

☁︎ — NOVEMBER 2ND, 2027 8:56 PM

“i told you!” shotaro states. “i told you and you and you—” he points at his friends with his fork in hand.

“easy!” eunseok cuts him off. “he’s still recovering,” he playfully says while placing an arm around seunghan. “you’re so strong,” eunseok gently rubs seunghan’s chest causing seunghan to laugh and push him off.

“my date is literally in the restroom right now,” seunghan points. nodding their heads at his words, wonbin leans forward and pats his shoulder.

“i’m sure she is,” he whispers out, causing the group of friends to erupt in laughter.

rolling his eyes, seunghan brings both hands up and flicks them all off before grabbing his fork and taking a bite from the red velvet piece of cake sitting in front of him.

“you know,” sungchan speaks up, taking a sip of his glass of wine as he stares at the slideshow of pictures playing on the screen on loop. “sohee is literally staring and smiling at yn instead of the camera in every single picture.”

“i’m talking middle school sohee and present sohee,” he adds while pointing at the screen to prove his point. turning their heads to the screen, they all nod as they see pictures of middle school sohee smiling at you while anton stands between you two.

“what a loser,” wonbin chuckles out.

“he was so delusional,” seunghan playfully says, remembering all of sohee’s tweets throughout college.

“he still is!” anton quickly corrects his older friend.

“is he though?” shotaro asks, squinting as he turns to look at his friend group.

“we’re literally eating red velvet cake at his wedding” shotaro says pointing at their plates. “anton became his best man and eunseok her best m-”

“man of honor,” eunseok interrupts, rolling his eyes at shotaro’s words.

“right, sure! man of honor,” shotaro corrects himself. “we’re all their groomsmen, so clearly he’s not and wasn’t delusional,” he concludes, turning to look at his best friend currently smiling widely and brightly while sitting down next to you, feeding you wedding cake.

“i’ll be right back,” wonbin states, causing shotaro to turn back to look at his friend group with furrowed eyebrows. extending an arm out to stop him, shotaro stares up at him.

“where are you going?”

“gonna go tell yn you want a turn riding sohee’s dick,” wonbin casually states.

spitting out his wine, sungchan erupts in a fit of laughter. as the rest of the table watches as the scene unfolds, they can’t help but also join in on the laughter.

“i don’t like any of you,” shotaro rolls his eyes, bringing a hand up to flick off his friends before shaking his head and letting out a small chuckle.

☁︎ — CLOUD 9

EPILOGUE

summary !! after years of constant pining after his best friend’s sister, yn finally takes notice of sohee and sohee swears he’s on cloud 9. or in other words, loser sohee finally gets the girl.

<- BACK | EXTRA I ->

CLOUD 9 MASTERLIST

[xreaderbooks]

Paradise on Earth (22)

Chapter: 22. The Bells

Pair: JJ Maybank x Routledge! Reader

Summary: stuck in a room with Rafe and the impending sense of doom.

Warnings: language, mentions of violence, hostages, strangling, drowning

Word Count: 1.9k

Wattpad | AO3 | Playlist

Chapter 21 | Series Masterlist | Navigation | Next Chapter

Rafe clutched onto your shoulders with a frantic look, "No bullshit, Do you have the diary?" 

You didn't want to talk to him, your eyes traveled to Kie's worried gaze welled with tears, a deep frown set in her features that matched your own. "No." 

It was the only word you planned on speaking to him, one word for him to let go of his hold on you. When he didn't immediately remove his hands from your shoulders, you brushed them off and walked to the opposite side of the room. 

Shit, shit, shit. 

You didn't have the book. Would it even matter if you told Singh that you didn't have the book? With the way you perceived him to be unhinged, you doubted that he would believe you. 

"We're fucked," You spoke directly to Kie with concerned eyes, whatever happened to Rafe was not your problem anymore and if you were being honest with yourself, he never was. 

~~~

You and Kie took up the bed and had Rafe sleep on the floor, your room was long forgotten and it didn't seem like the guards cared, you weren't going to be able to escape either way. 

You dreamt of the water, weaving beds of leaves, and being taught how to spearfish. It was a memory of a lifestyle you lived not too long ago, it felt like a dream. 

Kie was above you a distant look on her face as she spoke to you in a hushed tone, "I have a plan, but you have to trust me." Anxiety settled into your chest as you remembered you were not still stranded on the island or even on the outer banks. The bed you sat up in with eyes still crusted with sleep belonged to a man willing to murder you and your best friend for a diary you currently did not have. 

"What plan?" You rasped.

She moved fast, knocking on the window where a guard stood by and looked at her expressionless. "Go get Mr. Singh, I need to talk to him." She mouthed to him, he didn't move an inch, he simply turned his back to her. 

"Kie, whatever you're planning isn't going to work if you don't talk me through it," You moved out of bed to follow her to the door and noted how sore your body felt. Your leg felt tender and bruised. When you looked down to inspect it, you saw the inside of your flesh from how deep the wound was but it wasn't bleeding so you called that a positive. You limped as you followed her around the room. 

"It has to," She insisted. She pounded on the door, Rafe stirred in his sleep, waking up to her shouting for the man who was posted in front of it. 

"The hell are you two doing?" Rafe's question goes unheard. 

When neither of you two acknowledged him he tried to get your attention, "Hello?" 

Ignoring Rafe, You shook your head,  "I'll go with you. He seems to have some sort of interest in my family history, maybe it'll help." 

"No fucking way," Rafe tells you. "Can someone please tell me what's going on?"

"Stay out of this," Kiara snaps at him. "Y/n, I'm going, you're hurt."

"I was just fine last night," You lift the leg of your silk pajama pants and show her that the bleeding had stopped. "It's a scratch."

She narrows her eyes, "You need stitches. I'm going."

The face of the man who's on guard duty comes in and Kie tells him she needs to speak with Singh urgently. He side-eyes you and Rafe and says, "Yes." He snatches her bicep.

"I got this," She whispers to you before she's dragged out of the room. 

You punched the door in frustration, stressfully running your hands through your hair, and slid down the door, clutching your knees to bend to your chest. You heard Rafe take a step in your direction and your eyes jumped to his tense form. 

"What is she going to do?" He asked. 

You didn't respond, you thought if you ignored him, he would go away. He didn't. 

"Y/n, Can we just talk?"

"No." 

"Is 'no' the only word in your vocabulary now?" 

You wanted to say that it was the only word you thought of when you saw him. It was a no to keep yourself from him, a no that should've been said when you became entwined in each other's lives deeper than they were or should have ever been. His whole existence to you is a no. 

Instead, you said, "No."

"Please, Angel-" He pleaded. You cringed at the nickname that once made you feel weak-kneed, you didn't want to feel anything towards him or the words he spoke. 

"Don't." You sent him a warning look, he didn't deserve any moment in your presence from the moment he strangled you. The moment he shot Peterkin and framed John B, all the way to when he drowned Sarah. He didn't deserve you way before then. 

"Just hear me out, alright?" He kneeled to your level, "Please." 

You turned your head to stare blankly at the wooden floorboards, he wasn't going to stop trying to talk to you. "I have nowhere to go, Rafe, so say whatever you want to say to me but I don't care. It doesn't change anything." 

"I love you," He confesses and your heart tightens. 

You deny it with a shake of your head, you didn't want to hear this, but you did just tell him to say whatever he wanted to. He's trying to lower your guard, you tell yourself. Don't let him get to you.

"I do, you know I do-" He sounded like he was pleading for you to believe him. 

"You shot and drowned your own sister, what do you know about love?" You helped yourself up from the floor and walked around the room anxiously, ignoring the ache in your ankle and picking at the skin around your nails.

You wished Kie would've woken you up earlier and told you her plan. You felt bothered, even more so that she left you alone with Rafe. 

"What went down between me and Sarah has nothing to do with us." 

"There is no us." You laughed humourlessly, "Do you remember strangling me that same night?" 

"I'm sorry, alright, you don't know how sorry I am. I never meant to hurt you." His eyebrows creased to match the pout displayed on his face. "My mind just goes places sometimes."

You halt in your steps and face him, "It is not my job to help you stay sane or to relieve you of your guilt, nor your deep-rooted daddy issues, Rafe."

You barely caught him flinching at your words but you did and didn't hesitate to continue, "I meant what I said that night. That I loved you, I did, but I've gotten over it and eventually you will too so while you deal with that, if you truly do love me then you'll leave me and my friends alone." 

He opened his mouth to say something but Kie came through the door with a forceful shove.

"Kie?" You softly spoke her name, the girl was visibly upset. She held her head in her hands and her face was red. "What happened, what did he say?" 

She avoided looking directly at you, "It didn't work."

"What didn't work, can one of you tell me what you just went to do?" Rafe insisted. 

"After everything you've done, we don't owe you shit, Rafe." Kie sounded tired. "Shooting Peterkin, Sarah, Y/n."

Little did she know you had already had this conversation with him. 

"Peterkin, I was protecting my father, okay?" He came closer to you both and you stepped in his way to block her from him just in case. He glanced at you and Kie, scoffing. "I did what I had to."

You sat next to her, rubbing circles on her back to soothe her, Rafe's voice cut through the calm with his excuses. You noted how he got more defensive around her. 

"I'm as much of a victim as she is- think about it, what did I get from shooting Peterkin?" He waited a second as if waiting for either of you to respond, "Nothing. Okay? I had nothing against her I mean- I liked her, you think I wanted to make that choice?"

Unhinged is the word of the week, you thought, maybe you should spend less time around people like this. You almost laughed at your thought, maybe if you could stop getting kidnapped for more than five seconds. 

"What I did was a gift, from me to my father for him and I got screwed because of it, I lost the only thing that mattered to me-" He glanced at you as he said that last part and focused his attention back on Kie. "So don't get that look when I say I'm a victim."

Kie didn't do so much as glance at him as he continued his rant, but regretfully, you did. You didn't know what was wrong with you, why you felt your heart grow with pity. It was a familiar feeling when you were around Rafe, not that your feelings for him were solely based on the sympathy you felt. It was very much real and pure attraction starting from the branches of kindness he would extend to you, and only you. 

"I will admit, though, what I did to Sarah- what I tried to do- I admit that was wrong." His voice broke and tears were beginning to spill from his eyes. "I know that, so you don't have to remind me." 

"Rafe," You uttered his name barely above a whisper. You didn't want to hear anymore and risk lowering whatever shield you had managed to build to keep him out. 

"She was family, I should've never touched her, I should have never touched you." He reached out to you and recoiled, correcting himself, noticing how clearly you didn't want him to touch you. "I just lose control in moments like that, and I don't know what happened. I'm trying- I'm trying to get better." 

Kie only gave a nod of recognition that she was listening.

"I'm just saying I'm not the bad guy here, but even if I was, bad Rafe Cameron or something- you got no choice. You may not want to trust me, but I'm your best bet." 

You crossed your arms, your only way of denying him. 

"I got a boat that can get us off the island, but first we gotta get out of here and it is better if we work together." 

There was a commotion outside which made Kie rush to the window. 

"They're leaving?" You came up behind her and peered over her shoulder. 

She let out a shaky breath, "They're going to find Sarah and John B." 

"How?" You panicked, "How did he find them?"

Her face contorted into a deeper frown as she finally told you, "They were setting themselves up as bait, pretending to be hostages." 

The panic that had been festering the moment Kiara was tossed back into the prison of a room had sunk in deeper but you couldn't allow it to take over. You had to take this opportunity to form a plan to escape, there was no time to worry about your friends. 

If only you can get the guard assigned to the door to come inside, you begin to think of the possibilities. He would have to think something was going on, something that would force him to come in, get him out of the way so that there would be no obstacle preventing the three of you from leaving the room. 

"I think I have a way to get out of here." 

~~~

let me know if you'd like to be tagged :)

a/n: been a while, how's everyone doing? I'm sorry for the major delay in updating, hope you all aren't too mad at me, its a short update but I figured something is better nothing after months of not being active

taglist:

@deanwherescas - @thtbwltts - @nerdypartytrashpsychic - @random-girl-army - @hereliesjanuary - @instabull -  @sexyfoxlady - @bubs-world - @sdawn03 - @jellybassett - @mendesclines - @simpingbutch - @obx-pogues-4-life - @landosgirlxoxo - @p-prettybitch - @namacissi - @dczedhee - @inkandpen22 - @royalavenger - @ayeitsjustmee - @80strashbag - @onlyangel-444 - @freds-slut - @poppet05 -  @itsjuststaticnoises - @ahnneyong - @lovepizza567 - @jasminfelling - @rana030 - @loki-loveer - @rana030 - @lostinatimeline - @boldlypessimistic - @clinelyn - @a-j-stuffs - @yunhobug - @syd223sworld - @strawberry-fawn- @mysticalavenuecheesecake - @itsmytimetoodream - @natashtessabeth12 - @thatsthewaythechrissycrumbles - @chervbs - @or-was-it-just-a-dream - @newbooksmell777 - @afterzonee - @ilovemen2much - @ilovesteveharrngton - @s1lngwns - @ye0nvibezzn - @ausipcious-manner - @mirellef2001 - @jjmayabnkisbf - - @flairtune - @callsignwidow - @yornayyy - @mxnst3rz

(if youre name is crossed out that means tumblr wont let me tag you, I'm sorry)

[fandoms--fluff]

Can you write a story with reader where she’s a workaholic and hope has to pull her away from her work because she’s been working on it all night

Overworked

Female witch reader x Hope Mikaelson

Warnings: none

A/n: I'm so excited for summer to come. I hope you like this!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It's 11 o'clock at night, and you've been working on the same design for the last four hours. The deadline has been changed to a day away. So you bunkered down on your kitchen bar top, sketching and typing away.

You work as a head of costumry at a company that makes a bunch of the massive dresses and old timeybclothing for movies and productions and all those things. A new line of fairy dresses have been customed ordered, and you've been put in charge of them. You were excited when you got them, but now you kind of wish there was someone to share the workload with who you trusted would actually put hard work into.

You may have slight trust issues.

There's barely anyone at your work who's under you, takes it seriously. They will just put the least amount of work into something and call it a day. There have been times when you've just wanted to get violent with them, but alas, you can't. But that doesn't mean you haven't switched to a few other harmless methods.

You let out a groan as the tip of your pencil breaks again. It's the third time that's happened. You reach for the sharpener, and as you're twisting the pencil in it, it jams and the pencil breaks. "Seriously!" You exclaim stressfully.

Your girlfriend, Hope, looks up from where she was sat on the couch, watching TV. Her facial expression softens, turning the TV off before getting up.

She's been worried about you all night, but you wouldn't allow her to pull you away from it. But now she definalty has to, she doesn't want you to overwork yourself to this extent.

She walks over to you and places a hand on your back. "Why don't you stop for tonight and get back to work on it tomorrow, during work hours." She kisses your shoulder.

You look up from your sketch book, "I can't, there's no way I can get this all done tomorrow" you sigh. "I'll help you then, with the designs or talking to your boss"

"Talking?" You raise an eyebrow. "Or compulsion?"

"Which one will make you feel better?" She asks, making you let out a chuckle.

"...fine" you groan, "you win" you tell her, shutting your sketch book and turning your laptop off. "Thank you" she tells you, holding your hand as you get off the barstool.

She leads you to your guys' bedroom. As soon as you get in there, you flop onto the bed. "I've missed you" You told the bed.

"One of the many reasons you shouldn't be overworking yourself, not getting enough sleep. Come on, before falling asleep in your jeans, let's get pajamas on" She rubs her thumb in circles on your hand.

"Mmmm, fine" you comply, getting off the comfy bed. You reluctantly change out of your jeans and t-shirt into navy pajama pants and a white tank top. After you finish changing, you go to the bathroom washing your makeup off and brushing your teeth.

"Yay, comfy" you smile as you crawl into bed, next to where Hope's leaning against the headboard, in her pajamas as well.

You lean against, cuddling up to her. Your head falls to her chest and right arm thrown over her stomach. She wraps her her arms around you as well, placing a hand softly on the back of your head.

"I'm surprised you haven't spelled anyone at your work yet, it's impressive, considering if they really are like what you describe them" Hope says as she runs her fingers through your soft hair.

"Who says I haven't" you mumble into her chest. "Some of them are plain stupid, they should be thanking me for making them at least a little competent."

"Okay, slightly less surprised" she shakes her head, playfully rolling her eyes as well. "They deserve it" you grumble.

"I bet they do, Baby" she places a kiss to the crown of your head.

In the next minute, you're fast asleep, cuddled into your girlfriend.

[chuuyrr]

If you still write for Gojo reader I would like to make a request in which the Bsd men (Dazai, Chuuya and anyone else that comes to mind) comfort Gojo reader after she snaps (like loosing their sense of control) during a fight with an enemy. Gojo reader feels like she’s not human as he was there to see that side of her.

when they see their gojo! s/o snap

✧˖ ° bungo stray dogs x gojo! reader | series masterlist

✧˖ ° CW(s): f! reader, headcanons, comfort, brief mentions of blood and brief descriptions of one's lost sense of control

✧˖ ° PAIRING(s): dazai osamu, nakahara chuuya

✧˖ ° SYNOPSIS: in which they see gojo [name], or you, their darling angel, lose her sense of control for the first time.

likes, comments, and reblogs are appreciated ༉‧₊˚.

✴ DAZAI OSAMU !

it happens when the enemies you were facing together with dazai decided to use their ability to involve all the innocent citizens that were surrounding you both.

the sight of the blood and the innocent people being hurt like nothing was enough to send you into a complete frenzied state with every bit of care stripped from you as you left dazai's side and just went right in.

seeing you mercilessly attacking while holding such a terrifying silent blank look in your six eyes deeply reminds dazai of his old partner back in the port mafia as it was like seeing chuuya use corruption all over again, but it was different this time because that was you on he field right now; his lover.

now, dazai doesn't care if his own comrades nor your own subordinates are scared of you in your current state, nor if they were all screaming at him to back off. he's never scared of you, and he knows to himself that he's the only one who could stop you.

so, dazai instantly steps right in, taking a hold of your wrist tightly, calling out your name as his ability runs across your veins to nullify your limitless ability which enables you to harness infinity.

he might not be able to nullify your six eyes as it was a non-ability like lovecraft's, but it was enough to bring you back to your senses like having a cold splash of water hit your face to wake you up in the morning as your limitless and infinity broke down.

the moment he sees your eyes dart towards him, dazai feels nothing but sympathy and remorse for you as you look at him with a teary-eyed gaze with smears of blood on your face and knuckles.

he knows that look in your eyes all too well as you also reminded dazai of his old self back in the port mafia—this whole other dangerous and ruthless side of you that you've always kept hidden with your blindfold over your six eyes.

"darling?"

dazai's voice was enough to pull right out of the dark waters you had drowned yourself in.

it was soothing, and comforting, just like the feeling of his ability breaking through your infinity and limitless, and just like how his skin feels so warm and loving, more importantly, breaking you out of your lack of senses state.

as you look up at him with a teary-eyed gaze and hitched breaths upon realizing what you had just done, he immediately pulls you right into his embrace, hushing you sweetly.

"shh.. shh.. it's okay, my love. i'm right here for you," dazai whispers softly as he rubs circles on your back, holding you tightly in his arms.

"n-no.. you shouldn't have seen me like that.." you softly murmur, stressfully rubbing your face and running your fingers through your hair.

your eyes threaten to cry as your voice cracks like glass, "that wasn't human of me, 'samu."

"shh.. no, no, no.. look at me, my darling.." dazai shakes his head, gently cupping your face in his hands as he holds you closer to him, making you look into his eyes, "look at me please?"

as you stare into dazai's dark brown eyes with your heavenly six eyes, his gaze softens further as he leans in and kisses your forehead while delicately stroking your cheek, "there's my girl."

"don't ever say that you aren't." dazai whispers, this time pressing his forehead against yours as he rocks your body closely side to side as if he were comforting a child, "you're more human than you think, my darling."

even if dazai has internal struggles over not being qualified as a human, and even though it's difficult for him, he constantly reassures and consoles you, just as you do when he doesn't.

✴ NAKAHARA CHUUYA !

losing control is a feeling and state that chuuya was no stranger of due to having constantly been there because of his own gravity manipulation ability and temper.

but, of course, that's a different thing when chuuya was looking at you. when he sees smoke and debris filling the atmosphere as you fight head-to-head with an enemy, he's in for a surprise.

now, chuuya would usually be cheering for you on the sidelines since he loved seeing you show off.

however, the moment the bandages covering your eyes slid off and your six eyes went blank, he knew that this wasn't it.

chuuya, as brutal as he is, never takes people's lives for granted and understands the value of compromise and rationality.

so, when chuuya sees you going too far, even if your opponent was already in no state to continue with his comrades already down, he promptly jumps in, even if it is tough for him to do so because his own talent was no match for yours.

chuuya stands in front of you, arms outstretched on each side, staring deep into your eyes, piericing your soul, not scared to be hurt by you if it means getting you back.

he knows you like the back of his hand, and he knows in his heart and soul that no matter how dangerously strong you are due to your limitless ability and six eyes as a gojo, you will never hurt him.

"sweetheart?"

chuuya stares at you without fear or hesitation as you stand there with an indecipherable look over your eyes as your fingers twitch.

"it's over, baby. you annihilated the enemy already, yeah?" chuuya pries again, expecting his voice would draw you right back to him, brows furrowed, but his voice remained soothing and calm.

chuuya's eyes light up with hope when he hears his voice and sees him fill your vision with his presence, and a flood of relief sweeps over him when he notices your blank eyes change.

as the red ball of compressed infinity in your fingers evaporates into thin air, emotions return to your eyes. chuuya walks over to you and softly takes both of your hands in his.

chuuya's eyes soften instantly when he sees the look of shame and guilt on your face. your expression was almost identical to the one he has every time he had to resort to corruption.

chuuya wraps his arms around you, his eyes softening even more as he realized you were truly back to your composure as you broke down your infinity for chuuya to hug you.

"i don't feel human right now.. let go of me, chuuya.." you murmur softly in a strained voice.

"hey, now. don't go saying stuff like that," chuuya says, cupping your face in his gloved hands and forcing you to look him in the eyes.

"but you should haven't seen me like that.." you argue back, sighing deeply.

"but you're still human in any case, sweetheart. my heart and soul knows so," chuuya says quietly in your ear as he kisses your forehead, putting your heart and mind at peace with his comfort, "and i'll never, ever be afraid of you either. you're beautiful, and you're so human."

✧˖ ° niki says ! ༉‧₊˚.

hi there, thank you for requesting my dearest anon !! so yeah, i have new-ish theme for my writings now. okay but i won't be applying this kind to my old fics (i'm too lazy), and i'm not so sure if i can be consistent either, and i'm sorry if it's kind of repetitive. i also didn't have any other characters in mind so i only did them. sorry !! "૮₍ •⤙•˶

✧˖ ° join my taglist, perhaps ? ༉‧₊˚.

@atomi-mi @trashfox @magpiemissy @anqelically @96jnie @lovesick-fairy @soleelia @celestair @irethepotato @nianre @bloobewy @17chuuya @achlysyo @youdidntseemehere21 @dazai-gojo-kinnie @idunnomynamesince2005

[shadowdaddies]

Hi!!! Can I request a f!reader x Eris where the reader is his secret mate and since he is stressfully sitting in her home, deep in the night, preparing reports and stuff like an gloomy ghost who haunts the place, she orders him to get some rest and gives him a massage?

omg Eris with a secret mate?! I’ve been obsessed with this request since I saw it. Is this a theory? Is there a longer fic about it? bc if not there needs to be. I’m obsessed with this idea, Eris having someone he can be himself around and open up to😭 I adore this request thank you for sending it in!💜

A/N: soft Eris 🥰

Autumn's Eden

Eris x Reader fluff

The moment you walked in the door to your home, a bright smile overtook your expression as you noticed the faelights on and the smell of apples and warm spices. Your mate was here, and that brought feelings of comfort that you had been missing since you saw him last. You and Eris kept your mating bond private, telling no one of your relationship. You were a “Lesser Fae,” as disapproving leaders of the Autumn Court would refer to you, so the two of you elected to keep your relationship a secret until Eris became High Lord. 

Eris had great plans for how to make the Autumn Court a better place, but for now you both knew that he needed to play the game. He held a carefully maintained facade of cunning and ruthlessness, the former of which held true. Eris played his father like a practiced game of chess, waiting for the opportune moment to take down the cruel High Lord. Until then, the two of you would continue meeting in secret. While it was often painful to not be able to flaunt the male you were proud to call your mate, it made your reunions that much sweeter.

Eris most often would visit your home, staying with you when he needed time away from his brothers and father. He could only wear the mask of cruel Lord for so long, and you were thankful to be the one who was there for him when he needed your comfort. You set down the fruits and bread that you had brought home from the market, wandering into your bedroom where Eris sat hunched over your desk. He ran a hand through his red hair, which glowed like fire against the warm fae lights - and you stood in the doorway for a moment, memorizing his beautiful profile. 

Sensing your presence, Eris looked up at where you were standing, giving you a soft smile that didn’t quite reach his bloodshot, tired eyes. Your heart ached seeing him like this, burnt out from the endless, brutal tasks his father bestowed upon him. He set down the papers he had been studying, turning to face you as he attempted to rub the exhaustion from his eyes. “Hi, my love,” Eris greeted you with a tired voice, gesturing for you to join him. You crossed the room, taking a seat on his lap as you wrapped your arms around his neck. One of his hands found the back of your neck, the other resting on your outer thigh, giving it a small squeeze as he leaned in to kiss you deeply. It was a slow, passionate kiss that had you breathless and flushed when you pulled away, resting your head against his shoulder. 

You traced his sharp jawline with your fingertips, trying to ignore the fluttering feeling in your stomach that came just from looking at him. As if he could read your thoughts, Eris smirked, giving you a sidelong glance. Your cheeks flushed a deep red as you cleared your throat, sitting up to look at what he was working on. Nonsensical paperwork was stacked upon the desk, and you hummed as you feigned interest in the seemingly mundane tasks in which your mate found himself consumed. 

You shifted on Eris’s lap, now facing him as you ran your hands through his hair, gently massaging his scalp. He let out a soft groan at the soothing feeling, his eyelids drooping as he relaxed in your hold. You leaned forward, biting his earlobe and whispered, “you need to relax, my love. Take a break.” Eris leaned back, eyeing you skeptically as you gave him a feline smile. Gracefully lifting yourself from his lap, you took his hand in yours as you guided him to stand. 

You toyed with the buttons of his shirt, lightly pulling on the collar as you asked, “what about a massage? Let me take care of you tonight, Eris.” Eris took a deep breath, eyes roving over you appreciatively. He nodded, tongue flicking out over his lower lip as you removed his shirt. Looking over your shoulder as you moved towards the bathroom, you directed Eris, “lay on the bed. Face down.” 

You returned to the room with aromatherapeutic oils, climbing over Eris to straddle his hips. You leaned down to press a kiss to his cheek before starting your work, lathering the oils over his back as you massaged him, focusing on spots where he held tension - which seemed to be everywhere. Eris fell asleep at some point, his soft snore eliciting a giggle from you as you continued your work on his muscles. 

He awoke just as you finished, letting out a sound of contentment and sighed, “that was amazing, my love.” You ran a hand appreciatively through his hair as you again found yourself lost in his beauty. You whispered as you lifted yourself from the bed, “how about I get you into the bath and then I can make us some dinner?” Eris smiled, springing off the mattress with a cat-like grace as he returned to his playful self. Taking your hands in his, he pulled you flush against him and tilted your chin towards him. “Why don’t I grab some food for us, and you can join me in the bath?” You nodded, “that sounds like a much better plan.” With a quick kiss and a soft smack to your behind, Eris went to prepare the food, while you prepared for the rest of a special evening with the one you love.

[spenglersweetheart]

Sooooo

Idea and it’s angsty

Egon is trying to pull an all nighter and reader comes in to try get him to come to bed. When Egon is tired and working he’s snappy and mean. And sometimes that carries over to the next day. So when reader tries getting him to bed he yells at them, how his work is more important and then continues working. Reader of course holds it in and gets dressed leaving the firehouse and idk something angsty happens and the last thing Egon has from them is a voicemail the next morning of them phoning from a telephone box sobbing and crying begging for him to come get them

Oh my god my heart ... are you trying to make me cry LMAO

─────────────── ✦ ───────────────

Last Call

Egon Spengler x Reader

WARNINGS : angst, a slight mention of a kidnapping, and an abusive ex

─────────────── ✦ ───────────────

" EGON, PLEASE COME PICK ME UP, HE'S AFTER ME HE'S── NO, STOP, STOP, STOP! "

THOSE ARE THE LAST WORDS THAT EGON HEAR from you and he wasn't even within your range. It was a voicemail. He hears those words, regretting everything. Regretting that he even snapped at you in the first place. He snapped at you and you left. Knowing that he could've prevented that left him with such heartache. He knew that the police were trying everything to find you. But half of him started to give up hope.

He backtracks to that night. He keeps thinking about it in his head. You walked into the laboratory that night and you still saw that he was awake. You knew that he had been working for a while. And you knew Egon. He would pull an all nighter if he had to. But you didn't want them to do that.

You manage to wrap your arms around him. That would be the last time you would be able to touch him if they didn't find you. You look at him. The words ring through his mind.

"Egon, honey," you say to him, "You've been working all night. I think you should resume in the morning."

"Can't," he simply replied back, "I have to get this done."

He stands up, which makes you loosen your grip on him. You watch as he walks to the other side of the laboratory. You follow him, watching as he stressfully worked. You hated seeing him like this. You wanted him to just relax, even if it had been for a while.

"I'm sure it can wait," You tell him, "I know you're tired. Besides, I don't want you to become sleep deprived. You're already on the verge of that."

You sound worried, but Egon only sees it as an excuse to get him away from his work. He turned to look at you. You can tell he's a bit agitated.

"I said I can't," he says, his tone is rougher than usual, more mean, "My work is much more important and I would like to get it done."

You're speechless. He's never said anything like that, not even when he's agitated. In all honesty, it hurts a lot. But, you held it in. You bit your tongue.

You ended up leaving the laboratory. You got dressed, and you left the Firehouse. When you leave it's usually to get your emotions out. You just start walking, and you pretty much end up at the nearest bar to drink your sorrows away.

You're on about your third drink when you catch something in the glimpse of your eye. They widen once they find who it is. You down the rest of your drink and try to escape from there as fast as you can. You can see that the man, the abusive ex boyfriend from years back, the one you had a restraining order against, was trying to get to you.

He had bumped into you on purpose. He had almost blocked you from the door but you managed to escape from that bar. You lose them for a while, and you find the nearest telephone box. You immediately close the door and you grab the phone, quickly dialing Egon's number.

Tears started to run down your face as the voicemail kicks in. You needed him in that moment he was not there. Your ex boyfriend had won.

And Egon didn't have anything left of you but a voicemail that you left on his machine. And that had been his worst nightmare.

[starlitcrows]

i cannot believe when i finally sit down n focus on a particular franchise squenix drops the ff7 rebirth demo and now my entire brain is sephiroth again

[d1xonss]

Desert Rose

Chapter 12 ~ Cherokee Rose

✧ Pairing : Daryl Dixon x Rose

✧ Era : Season 2

✧ Word Count : 3.4k

In this chapter ~ When the rest of the group was informed about all the recent events, it was clear they became fearful, wanting to formulate some sort of plan. After reuniting all together at the farm, they are left with the anticipation if Rose would pull through. Meanwhile, the search for Sophia continues.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ THIRD PERSON POV *~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Lori and Maggie eventually made it back to the farm just in the nick of time, jumping off the horse in a hurry before jogging inside the house to see Rick and Carl. Seeing the short haired girl was telling nothing but the truth. Unimaginable relief filled Rick's chest the moment Lori walked through the door, safe and unharmed. However, the reality of the circumstances circled back quickly, knowing that Rose's life continued to be on the line depending on what the future held.

Lori didn't need to be told twice when offering up whatever amount of blood they would allow. Just seeing how pale she had gotten, how terrible this all escalated in just a few hours, it was a lot to process.

Although the woman hadn't interacted much with Rose after they had first met, she was still a part of the group, and had kept her son safe countless times since she stepped foot in their camp. And because of that, Lori knew she could trust her. And if giving her blood helped her stay alive, she would do it in an instant.

None of them strayed too far from the bedroom as Hershel continuously checked on her more times than any of them could count. It had been hours since Shane and Otis had set out in search of the supplies and still hadn't returned, which only caused the tension in the house to spike. Though there wasn't much they could do but keep their chins held high. Even if the minutes were slowly ticking away at her fate.

"Shot? What do you mean shot?" Dale asked the group as they made their way back over to the RV, briefly explaining why only a third of the group emerged from the woods.

"God, I don't know Dale. All I know is that some girl rode in on a horse, telling us my best friend got shot and took Lori so she could give her a blood transfusion...I think. It all happened too fast, they kept talking about blood...stuff..." Glenn rambled as he ran a hand stressfully through his hair.

Dale stood there with wide eyes and his mouth slightly parted, not knowing what to say as they all dumped this information on him. But he couldn't get a word in even if he tried, Daryl already beating him to the punch as he gathered himself.

"I dunno about you, but m' headin out. Gonna make sure she's okay." he said, slinging his bag over his shoulder and heading to his bike, not sparing them a second glance.

"Right behind you." Glenn muttered as he fell in step with him.

Carol stuttered, "W-Wait! We can't just leave; Sophia is still out there." she said before they were able to take off. 

"Yeah, well y'all can stay here and wait but m' not." Daryl argued.

"Okay, wait, hold up Daryl," Dale said to catch his attention, "This group is split enough as it is, we have to plan this. How about we wait until tomorrow morning, and if she's still not back we'll leave her a sign, some supplies. We can come back every day afterward to see if she made it back, before we head to this...farm.

"You guys can do all that." he gestured, "I gotta get to Rose."

"Jesus Christ Daryl, she's going to be fine. Why are you being so damn persistent about it anyway?" Andrea asked with a hand on her hip.

Daryl's eyes narrowed at her as he seemed to clam up, not knowing what to say. He knew the reason he wanted to get to her so badly, but he didn't want to admit it out loud. At least not yet. He could barely even admit it to himself. It was a tough pill to swallow that his redneck ass had actually formed a schoolboy crush on her.

Andrea scoffed at his silence, "Oh okay, yeah I get it." she said in a tone that got under his skin.

His jaw seemed to involuntarily clench, "Look, that girl is a few miles away from us dyin for all we know. Why ain't you people more concerned?!" Daryl snapped.

"We are!" Dale defended, "But someone has to be thinking clearly right now, and I think splitting us up even more isn't going to do us any good. Besides, it's already getting dark."

Daryl only scoffed, fed up with the whole conversation and the constant back and forth that was only wasting more time.

Though Glenn stayed quiet during the heated discussion. Both of them had good points and although he didn't want to be left in the dark about what was happening on that farm, his logical thought process seemed to make up his mind. He knew what Dale was saying was undeniably the right call.

He dreadfully stepped closer to Daryl to speak in a quieter tone, hesitant on what he was about to say, "Listen, they...they might be right."

"What?" Daryl asked sharply.

"Look, I want to get to her just as bad as you do," he stated, causing the man to glare daggers at him from the subtle assumption.

But Glenn was quick to scoff, "Don't look at me like that, I've seen the way you treat her versus how you treat anyone else around here. My point is...I want to get there too, but let's just wait it out and then first thing tomorrow we can head to the house all together. Avoid the fight, you know?"

Daryl stared at him for a moment as he took in his words. Had he really been that obvious at his growing feelings for her? Were the others just as aware as he was? Though regardless of the fact, he still felt the need to protest further, feeling as if no one was even listening to him. But Glenn however, cut him off yet again before he could speak.

"Do you really want to sit there and watch her be in pain? Hear her scream? I don't know what they have to do to help her, but it must be pretty bad if she needs blood. And I know damn well I don't want to watch her go through that." he admitted.

The truth was that's what Daryl feared as well. It genuinely scared him a little at the idea of finding out just how bad of shape she was in, he dreaded it in fact. He just wanted to picture her like the last time he saw her. Having a small smile on her face, and a light behind her eyes which he could only assume was hope to find Sophia.

He didn't say anything, but he nodded once, finally giving in to stay just one more night.

Carol watched as he stepped away from his motorcycle and sighed in relief, "Thank you, thank you both." she said to the men.

Daryl just nodded again, hoping she couldn't see the slight annoyance that filled him at the idea of waiting. He hated waiting. He didn't have enough patience to wait around for something, and his skull throbbed with the number of thoughts that constantly clouded over his head. And this was no different, in fact it might be worse.

But he swallowed his pride for once in his life and respected Carol's wishes seeing as she was going through enough already. He just silently headed into one of the nearby abandoned cars to sleep, hoping that tomorrow would come faster that way.

However, the truth was, the next morning couldn't come soon enough and both Glenn and Daryl were itching to get there as fast as possible. Daryl didn't sleep hardly at all that night, and it felt like days before the sun finally began to rise. But the second everyone was awake, they all gathered their things, left a sign for Sophia along with some food and water, and headed towards the house.

They raced down the many dirt roads in the limited vehicles they had left before taking a sharp turn towards where they were instructed. Daryl kept repeating the directions in his head, the woman's voice echoing through his ears as he kept an eye out for the mailbox that she mentioned. And when they had finally spotted it, it wasn't long before a white farmhouse peered into his vision from over the grassy hills, only causing him to pick up speed.

The vehicles piled through the metal gates and toward the entrance, managing to catch sight of Rick and Lori standing on the porch as if they had anticipated their arrival eventually. The remainder of the group collectively raced up the small dirt path and Daryl nearly ate shit trying to get off his bike, jogging up to the couple before anyone else could.

"How is she? She okay?" he asked them, trying to hide the panic in his voice.

Rick smirked slightly to himself, "She's okay...she's going to be just fine." he confirmed.

Daryl sighed a bit quietly in relief, hearing Glenn do the same from just a few inches behind him as he caught up, a pressure being lifted from his chest at the news. The rest then started to come up and greet them on the porch with hugs and relieved smiles, though Daryl just stepped aside. A part of him wanted to go inside the house already and see her, but he was nervous. He wanted to prepare himself to see the state she was in. His mind could only imagine so much as to what she looked like after everything that had happened to her.

But it seemed his decision was made for him as Hershel then came outside to introduce himself to the new people, explaining a bit more of what happened to Rose as he had just finished her surgery only hours ago. She was apparently resting, but he didn't expect her to wake up for at least a little while longer as her body had clearly been through a lot of trauma. Perhaps that was a good enough excuse to stay away for a while longer.

The older man then asked everyone if they would want to gather around to have a small ceremony for a man they'd recently lost. Otis had sacrificed himself in order to save Rose according to what Shane told the group, died from a herd of walkers that somehow tore through the high school where they searched for the medical supplies. The group didn't hesitate to agree and slowly trailed out to an open field, standing quietly while Hershel said a few final words for him, finishing it off with a bible verse. 

Patricia, Otis's wife, turned towards Shane after a few moments of silence had passed, asking if he would tell the story of his very last moments. Wanting some kind of closure. And he did, not wanting to deny as he felt he didn't have a choice.

The story that he told was long and drug out, as the man wasn't able to look at a single person in the eye when reciting what had happened word for word. He was sweating bullets, constantly wiping his forehead all while rocking back and forth on his feet as he spoke with hesitance. It blew Daryl's mind that these people actually believed the things he was coming up with.

He knew the man was lying straight through his teeth, but somehow he managed to keep his mouth shut, choosing not to comment on the fairytale he told. He knew in the back of his mind that no one would believe him if he were to speak up about it anyway. And the only person who would, was currently unconscious.

After the service for Otis, Glenn didn't waste any more time as he made his way up to the unfamiliar house, his eyes searching for the place she stayed before stumbling across the nearest bedroom. She laid there oddly still and peaceful, her face ghostly white at the amount of blood she must've lost in the process of events. His eyes widened a bit at her state as he slowly walked over to the side of the bed, sitting down on the edge before gently taking her hand, moving some baby hairs off of her face.

He started talking to her as if she could hear, even though deep down he knew she couldn't. It was as if he wanted to get everything off of his chest as he felt such sorrow for seeing her in here to begin with. He didn't know why, the events had nothing to do with him, yet he still continued to feel terrible that she was put in this position. Perhaps he should've protested about her leaving when he had the chance to, knowing it was never a good idea to split up. Although he knew it was wrong to think like that, he almost couldn't help it.

"I'm sorry about your girlfriend."

Glenn's head suddenly snapped back up towards the doorway, seeing a younger woman standing there with obvious sympathy.

He was taken off guard at the assumption as he quickly shook his head, "Oh no, no, she's not my girlfriend. We're just...friends. Well...I think she's my best friend. But don't tell her I said that." he spoke lightheartedly.

She laughed a little with a slow nod in understanding, "Well, sorry to assume. I just noticed you were real worried about her. And the...guy with the crossbow. Seems like a tight knit group y'all got going on." she said with a gesture of her hand.

Glenn's mind reeled back a bit at her comment, taking it upon himself to pick up on the obvious concern Daryl was showing for his friend. He couldn't help but smile to himself at the possibilities. But in the end he didn't say a word, only nodding in appreciation to the girl before turning his attention back to Rose. 

Back outside the house Rick, Daryl, Shane, and Hershel were all looking at a map on the hood of an old pickup, trying to figure out the best course of action to find Sophia. They all quickly realized there was a lot of ground to cover, and with how long she had been missing, it would probably take a lot longer to track her down than they had originally hoped.

"How long has the girl been lost?" Hershel asked.

"This is day three," Rick responded, looking back towards the piece of paper, "This is perfect, we can finally get this thing organized."

"We'll grid the whole area and start searching in teams." Shane nodded.

But Hershel was quick to shake his head, "No, not you. With the way you hurt your ankle, push it now and you'll be laid up for a month. No good to nobody." 

"Alright, then it's just us today." Rick said to the archer.

"Nah, we should split up. I'll go East a little ways and you check around this area." he said pointing north.

Rick furrowed his brow, "You sure?"

"Yeah. M' better on my own." he insisted.

Rick nodded his head before they continued discussing about sending more people out tomorrow so they could actually start doing this right. The large setback they had was bad enough as it was, but now knowing that the girl could've gone farther was the thing now weighing them down.

But Daryl found himself volunteering to go out on his own simply because he needed the distraction. He couldn't bring himself to go in and see Rose just yet, not with not knowing exactly what he'd be walking into. So, instead he decided to make himself useful and help look for Sophia for the time being, wanting to be able to finally bring her back safe.

But the man wasn't fooling anyone, even if he thought he was. Rick easily picked up on Daryl's worry the moment he stepped foot onto the farm, how he so clearly cared without even fully realizing it himself. But in the end, he was only left confused as to why he hadn't just gone up to see her for himself, not making much of an effort to check on her though it was clear he was itching to.

So, when the group eventually split after they were done talking out the details, Rick took the opportunity to get some answers out of him.

"Hey," he called after Daryl before he had a chance to get away. "Did you go in and see Rose yet?" he asked.

Daryl hesitated for a moment before shaking his head, "Nah."

"Well, why not? You seemed pretty concerned when you first got here." 

He shrugged, "Just wanted to hear she was okay. Now come on, we ain't got all day, we got a little girl to find." he spoke bluntly before walking away a bit quicker than usual.

Rick smiled to himself knowingly, but turned around and went on pretending like he didn't know a damn thing.

The minutes had slowly turned into hours since Daryl left to be on the lookout for Sophia, and since then he hadn't found so much as a trace. He was searching high and low for any type of sign that she could be nearby or maybe passed through recently, but was left with nothing as he continued his expedition. He felt defeated under the scorching sun, growing more tired than he was ever willing to admit as he continued to push himself to the limits.

But suddenly, he came across an older white house, barely coming into view across the large field and decided to check it out just in case. Clearly, he wasn't up for taking any chances.

He walked up to the front door, trying to listen for walkers inside before kicking the door open with a loud bang, signaling the corpses towards the noise if there was any in there to begin with. When there was only silence that followed, he slowly stepped in and walked down the long hallway, searching room after room he came across. Nothing quite caught his eye as he scanned around every inch thoroughly, just a trashy house that was abandoned long ago.

Even the very last room didn't leave him with a lot of hope, only a bunch of cans and wrappers surrounding the floors. That is until something managed to catch his attention. A larger cupboard tucked in the corner of the kitchen was left adjacent, just enough for him to catch a glimpse at what was inside. It was small, maybe nothing, but he managed to spot a pillow and a blanket on the floor along with some opened food that had been picked apart recently.

To him it was a sign. Maybe it wasn't Sophia that was hiding in there, but it was still a sign to keep looking. 

After checking the whole house, with no evidence of the girl, he hesitantly walked out the back door with the intention to head back to Hershel's farm. He knew it would be dark soon, not wanting to get lost in the area that was still unknown to him. That is until something else caught his attention out of the corner of his eye.

From a good few feet away, there sat some flowers blooming fairly close to the house he just cleared. His head tilted a bit in curiosity, walking over only to find that they were Cherokee roses, to which he knew quite well. These flowers were very beautiful and had a backstory behind them that he would never forget, which only caused the wheels to turn in his head. He immediately thought of Carol, how these flowers must have bloomed for her daughter they were still searching endlessly for. In the end he decided to pick one off to take back to her and share the story he had come to know. To give her a little bit of hope that she needed.

He turned around with the intention of leaving to head back, but then out of the clear blue, Rose suddenly crossed his mind. He turned to look back at the flowers again, debating if he should take one to her too, or if he should just leave it be. Maybe she would appreciate it, love it even. Or maybe she didn't even like flowers at all, thinking it was pointless to receive something that would only die in just a few days. Daryl didn't know her thoughts behind something like this...but he knew her. And that was good enough for him.

So, after stalling a bit, overthinking it for far too long, he walked back over to quickly pick another one before heading towards the farm again, his steps quick and determined as if he feared he'd change his mind.

~ Thanks for reading!

[princessbrunette]

i just love scolding rafe whenever he does something mean to a pouge, just making him sit on the couch and then standing in front of him with a frown on my face and scolding him

౨ৎ🐇 ₊˚⊹ ᰔ

deep down, he thought it was adorable when you got like this. all huffy and puffy, sitting him down like you had any real authority and telling him off. you really think he’s gonna take some little ass girls advice, stood there with your arms crossed over that tiny floral sundress, stomping your kitten heels at him? nah. but he’d listen anyway, ‘cos he was a good boyfriend.

“its totally outdated, rafe. you can’t be mean to someone purely based on the fact they’re from a different side of the island! they’re people!” you ramble, stood infront of him with your palms splayed stressfully by your sides.

he sits on the couch at tannyhill infront of you, relaxed into this seat, arms crossed over his chest and legs spread as wide as would be physically comfortable. “i don’t expect you to understand the dynamics—” he begins in a slow and disinterested drawl, his eyes fluttering and jaw tensing in irritation when you interrupt him to continue.

“its classist. rafe, i know the real you. you’re nice deep down. but you’re acting like a bully lately and i don’t like it! i have pogue friends, you know that— and, and i’m not ashamed of it either.” you stick your chin up, pouty and proud like a cartoon baby kitten and he rolls his eyes, licking his lips as he shakes his head. if anyones out of touch, it’s you.

“deep down? i’m nice deep down. alright, okay— so i suppose me putting endless amounts of money on your card and decking you out with whatever shoes it is you want that week is… what? mean? that makes me the bad guy?” he tilts his head, squinting at you and for a second he thinks you might back down. he doesn’t seem genuinely angry like he’s going to explode on you, just tired of the conversation and having to make his point.

“thats… not what im talking about rafe, you know i’m grateful.” you toe at the carpet, huffing out guiltily making him shrug carelessly, wanting to hurry things along.

“okay so… spit it out. c’mon.” he exhales, sinking back into the couch, gesturing for you to go on with it.

“so, from now on— you are not to pick on harmless pogues who did nothing to you. it’s unkind and it makes me upset.” you state your point, folding your arms and standing up straight. a smirk twitches at his lip.

“or, okay— hear me out here, you keep livin’ your girly little carefree life and you let me handle things the way i handle them. yeah?” he raises his eyebrows like he expected you to agree and you deflate, puffing out your bottom lip.

“rafe.” you whinge.

“baby.” he tilts his head mockingly, using the same tone as you.

“can you try? atleast?” you stress, and just wanting the conversation to end he rolls his eyes theatrically, nodding his head with his lips pressed in a thin line.

“alright, whatever. now come here, would you?” he holds his arms out to pull you onto his lap and you decide his wishy-washy promise was good enough, happily skipping over.

“yay.” you smile, victoriously and he huffs out a chuckle.

“always somethin’ with you huh? keep you fucked and fed and you still got shit to say. good thing i’m so patient, right?” he smirks, tickling your waist making you giggle. to call him patient would be an outright lie, but you were too giddy to bring that up.

౨ৎ🐇 ₊˚⊹ ᰔ

[bella-rose29]

beautiful people

requested by anon: hi hi! Can I request Anthony Lockwood x reader fic inspired by the song beautiful people by ed Sheeran?

lockwood x gn!reader (made it gn bc there wasn't a gender specified, hope that's alright anon <3)

I am so sorry that this took so long anon 😭😭😭

Word count: 2.1k

Warnings: set after the empty grave but I don't think there are any actual spoilers (but you've been warned anyway), I think that's the only thing? edit: there is a very big huge massive spoiler that's mentioned in one sentence so be careful

tag list (I just copied and pasted from deck the halls bc I'm tired and couldn't be asked to search through everything, so feel free to not read this if you don't want to): @ahead-fullofdreams, @aislinrayne, @anathemaloren, @anthgoldenhrry, @augustisintheair, @avdiobliss, @aysha4life, @bobbys-not-that-small, @briar-rose23, @curseofhecate, @dangelnleif, @edible-rat-vomit, @el-de-phi, @ell0ra-br3kk3r, @ettadear, @fearlessmoony, @fudosl, @idkbubs, @imaginebeingmentallystable, @informedimagining, @karensirkobabes, @lady-ashfade, @light-23, @locklyebrainrot, @locklyle1kanij, @locknco, @magicandrosewaters, @mentallyillsodapop, @mischivana, @mitskiswift99, @mrsklockwood, @mrsyixingunicorn10, @newbooksmell777, @no-morning-glories, @novelizt, @phlooper, @ran23sblog, @reggiepeterss, @simrah1012, @somethingrandomwatzit, @star-of-velaris, @superpositvecloudshipper, @t2sh0, @taygrls, @tournesol77, @whistle1whistle, @whenselenefallsinlove, @wordsarelife, @y0urm0m12

Lockwood was buzzing with unreleased energy, which made sitting next to him on a plane incredibly difficult, since Y/n just wanted to punch him in the face. They loved him, but they didn't need his jitters when neither of the two of them had ever flown before, let alone been out of the country.

It was a private jet they sat in, the vehicle sent by some rich person from America who had invited the famous ghost hunting agency from England to a week in Los Angeles. While George had initially seemed sceptical of the plane and it's abilities to carry them safely across half the world, he'd deemed it good enough for travel. Lucy and Holly were joining them too, although both were far less happy about it than Lockwood.

"It's basically a huge shell of metal that hurtles through the air. Why do you think I've been for three nervous pees in the last ten minutes, George?!" Lucy had stressfully said to George after he had questioned her multiple trips to the toilet.

Y/n had gone along because Lockwood had asked, despite them having only a vague connection to the agency's work. As a member of the general public, they didn't often get involved in the actual ghost hunting (Talent had never turned up for them which meant fighting was extremely dangerous, and they quite preferred being alive), but often could spot things that the others couldn't when looking at the history of a building, or a family, or pick up on the more human things in meetings as opposed to being solely focused on the Visitors.

Their other link to the agency was a lot stronger, because they were dating Lockwood.

Naturally when he'd asked if Y/n would be joining them on the agency's one week trip to America they couldn't say no, not when he was smiling at them the way he had been, and now they found themselves wondering why the hell they let him have so much of a hold on their heart.

It was the middle of July, too, and there was a freak heatwave as they were leaving England. It was nothing compared to the temperatures they would be met with in L.A., but the English were never made for heat.

"Oi," Y/n said softly, prodding Lockwood in the leg closest to theirs. "Stop bouncing, you're making me more nervous."

He cast them a small smile, tilting his head to look at them. "Sorry, my love." They could tell he was nervous too despite all the smiles and bravado he'd shown earlier, more so than when he went out and risked his life every night, and they grabbed his hand.

"People do this all the time, right? And George very kindly worked out the likelihood of us dying in this thing-"

"One in a million chance!"

"Thank you, George!" Y/n sighed, turning back to Lockwood. "But my point is, we're gonna make it there, and then we'll have an incredible, completely free holiday, and then we'll make it back to Portland Row, alive and in one piece, yeah?"

"Yeah."

"Hey. We're Lockwood and Co. And you're Anthony bloody Lockwood." He smiled wider at that, a huge grin taking over his face and making him light up.

"That we are," he replied, pressing a kiss to Y/n's forehead.

~~~

They had only been in America for about an hour, and already the agents were exhausted.

It didn't help that the plane journey was long, or that their internal body clocks were telling them it was well past their normal time to go to bed despite it being barely evening in Los Angeles. It seemed to be that the darker it got, the more people there were, which didn't make sense to any of the agents. While ghosts were no longer being created, many still hung around and caused fear, and it was strange for Lockwood and Co to be walking around in the dark with no rapiers, or even a spare flare.

Fancy cars drove past, one of them stopping (on the wrong side of the road; how did anyone drive correctly if they were doing it backwards?!) and opening its door to let the agents in. George squeezed in first, then went Y/n and Lockwood, and Lucy and Holly pushed their way into a seat a moment later. How they fit the five of them combined with the ten? eleven? people already in there Y/n wasn't sure. Music was blasting through speakers that weren't even visible (seriously, where was the music coming from?) and coloured lights flashed across the interior of the car. They had cars in England, of course, but this was much fancier than anything they had on their side of the world. People were drinking and dressed in fashion that looked futuristic to the five of them, and Y/n could feel the others shift in what little space they had as they looked down at their own clothes.

Then there were the questions.

At first it was difficult to understand their voices, since the accents were thick and everybody was talking at once, all trying to be heard over the music. Then it was difficult to answer their questions, because they were asking about phones and movies and music that none of them had much knowledge of in their technologically-different world. When they learned that Y/n wasn't even an agent, they wanted to know what exactly their role was, which was also difficult.

"He's my partner," they shouted (it was too loud to talk any quieter), pointing at Lockwood.

"So you're not... you're not an agent? You're just here?"

"Uh... yeah. I help on cases sometimes though!"

"Oh, cool!" the woman yelled, then immediately moved onto the next conversation. Y/n settled back against Lockwood, feeling his arm come around their shoulders. They looked at George, noting his bewilderment at the hidden speakers, and then at Lucy and Holly who were trying to figure out how to use the phone that someone had given them. It didn't even look like a phone; it was far too flat and small to be of any use to anyone.

They were all just trying to figure everything out, but even those who were being really nice to them could tell that the agents from London didn't fit in too well.

~~~

The party was far bigger than anything Fittes had ever thrown, and the five of them felt very underdressed, despite how fancy they had gone with their clothes.

Two hours in, Y/n was trapped in a conversation with a group of people about some event that had happened recently and was apparently a worldwide controversy, and they were being asked their opinion on it.

"Uh... I don't really know what's happening, to be honest." It was awkward, being looked at like they were some sort of alien, and Y/n felt themselves shrinking the longer they were stared at.

"Do you not have the news over in England?"

"We do, but normally it's... English news? Our technology got severely stumped growth-wise because of the whole 'there are ghosts now and they can kill you' thing, so..."

"Oh, yeah, sorry! I forgot that you guys are behind!" It wasn't said with any malice or anything, but it only served to make Y/n feel worse about not fitting in with these people. They tried to inconspicuously look around for Lockwood, but within seconds he had appeared at their side and was spewing some excuse about needing to borrow them.

He took them outside to a balcony, and although it was still crowded there was at least a cool breeze. "You alright?"

"Yeah. Thank you for that."

"Anytime," he smiled, pressing a kiss to their cheek. He seemed jittery again, and Y/n wondered if all the flashiness was finally getting to him.

"Are you alright?" they asked, startling Lockwood slightly.

"Oh, yeah." He wasn't particularly convincing in his answer, and Y/n raised their eyebrows at him. "I mean, I know I'm always going on about being front page all the time, and getting famous, which we are on the front page, and we did get famous, but this is... it's a lot." He paused, looking around at everyone gathered on the balcony. "It feels... weird, too. I'm not sure what the right word is yet. Everyone is almost too fancy, if that makes sense."

"Yeah, I know what you mean. I keep thinking I'm really underdressed and should borrow a really shiny bin bag instead," they joked, noting someone walking past who was dressed in something that looked very similar.

"You don't need to change a thing, my love. You look stunning as you are." Y/n felt their face heat up at his compliment, and hid their face in his body. His laugh made both of them shake, and his arms came around to hold them close to him. "I mean it. I don't think you could look more incredible if you tried."

"Lockwood," they whined, dragging out the syllables in his name as their face lit up more and more. "Stop it, seriously."

"What, I'm not allowed to tell my partner how wonderful they are?"

"Not this much in one go!" He only laughed again, and Y/n couldn't prevent the smile that came onto their own face.

~~~

Their last night had been spent much like the others, only this time it was only Lockwood and Y/n and the driver of the posh car they had been loaned for the week (once people remembered that the five English visitors couldn't drive, they had been provided with a driver as well as just the car).

The week was basically over, complete with drives in convertibles, gifts of expensive designer clothes, trips to fashion shows, constant questioning from people wanting to know who they were, and what they do, and who they know. George, Lucy, and Holly had stayed back at the hotel they were staying in, too tired to do anything else, but Lockwood had taken Y/n out, saying he wanted to spend their last night in Los Angeles together just the two of them.

They seemed to drive for hours, in reality not travelling that far from their friends, but the lack of destination meant that they were doing constant laps of the city. Not that it mattered, because neither Lockwood nor Y/n had any idea where anything was. Everything was tall, and imposing and fancy and bright and beautiful, and for the most part Y/n sat staring out the window, watching all the lights as they passed.

Lockwood was watching them, a fond smile on his face, seeing the lights reflected in their eyes like stars.

There had been constant lights the whole week, people with cameras at every event they attended, and while Lockwood was more used to bright things (since he had such strong Sight he often had to use sunglasses to stop the glare from a death glow), Y/n was squinting against the flashes. At one point Lockwood had brought out his sunglasses, despite the darkness of the sky, and handed one to Y/n while putting his own pair on his face. He kept his arms around their body at all times, whether it was just carelessly slung over their shoulders or tightly wrapped around their waist, because he didn't want to lose them in the crowds.

The agents really didn't fit in well in America, but they couldn't help it when they were just being themselves. He had figured out what the word he had been looking for on the balcony all those days ago was, too. He realised it as he gazed at Y/n, who had propped their face up on their hand, resting their elbow on the car door. All those people that they had met, at fashion shows and parties and everywhere else they had been, were too perfect, too fancy, too beautiful. It felt far too extravagant, even for Lockwood, and although he had thoroughly enjoyed his time in America he was looking forward to going home.

Because that's who Y/n was to him, and he knew that he was home to Y/n. It didn't matter if they went back to wearing their second hand clothes that were worn out and cheap, and it didn't matter if none of them understood how to use a smartphone by the time they left tomorrow morning, because that was who they were.

They were Lockwood and Co.

[kirislovelygf]

told you so (tsireya x omaticayan fem! reader)

contents: angstttt, y/n’s a lil delulu, gay girl x straight girl, neteyam being best brother, sapphic pain, wlw heartbreak

part two here !!

☁︎ ̩͙✧

it seems so obvious, right? why would you purposefully go after someone who you know will never ever be interested in you romantically?

it didn’t weigh on her how much it would hurt until she saw he happy she was with him.

her own brother, talking to tsireya like he was already getting all the girls.

y/n watched from a distance as tears of jealousy burned her eyelids.

the worst part was tsireya looked so much happier talking to him than she ever was with her.

everyone told her “don’t do it” and “look for someone else.”

“pick someone in your league.”

“or someone who actually likes girls.”

especially her brother, neteyam. but no matter how much advice she was given, she didn’t care. she knew who she wanted and there was no changing that.

she huffs and wipes her tears from her cheeks as she turns to face away from the two.

neteyam noticed her expression and looks down at his sister.

“i won’t say i told you so, but..”

“i get it, man. you don’t gotta say it, i know.” she responded quickly.

he sighs and looks down at his fishing net. he looks at his sister, who’s muttering stressfully to herself.

“go take a rest or something. i got this.” he said to her.

she looks up at him. “what? no, it’s fine.”

“i’m not asking. i’m telling. go.” he snatches the fish ner from her hands and she stares at him for a moment before laughing softly.

“alright, fine.”

he smiled as she walks away, onto the beach, and back into their marui. he glanced back at his brother before huffing.

y/n sat in her marui, alone with her thoughts.

she was sure they had a connection before. all those nights she spent together with tsireya felt like a dream.

they’d spend nights wandering the island, talking about their lives and everything surrounding them. they’d laugh, hold hands, lay in the sand together.

she was so absolutely sure they’d end up together.

until one night when they were lying on the sand on one of the beaches once again, and tsireya confessed she had a secret to tell.

“promise you won’t say anything?” she asked her.

y/n turns her head to look at her as they lied on the sand, facing up at the sky.

“i promise.” she interlocks her hand with tsireya’s.

“okay.” tsireya sighs and looks back up at the sky.

“i have a crush on someone.” she squealed quietly. y/n’s heart skipped a beat as they looked at each other again.

“woww, who?” she asked her.

tsireya sighs and looks back up at the stars.

“uh.. okay. i have a crush on lo’ak.” she smiled.

it took everything in y/n not to break down crying. her smile faded slightly but she quickly fixed it when tsireya looked her way.

“no way.” she gasped.

“yes! he’s very sweet and funny. and kind, and very handsome.”

“i mean… yeah, sure. if you think he is, then yes.” y/n chuckled.

tsireya laughed and pushed her shoulder slightly.

their laughter dies down and they stay silent.

“is it weird? i know he is your brother and you two are very close. i don’t want anything to change between us.” tsireya says to her.

it already has.

“of course. no, it’s okay. i want you to be happy. and if lo’ak makes you happy, then you have my support.” y/n responds, choking back tears.

“really?” tsireya smiled.

no.

“yes. you’ll always be my best friend.” she told her.

tsireay sighs contently and they look at the stars again.

y/n had to tune every thing tsireya said about her brother for the next agonizing hour.

y/n pushed the memory aside when her brothers came back to get her. he needed help carrying the fish in.

the siblings came back later that night, one with more attitude than the other.

and the whole family took notice.

jake and neytiri were sitting by a fire, laughing and talking to each other.

kiri was with tuk in another part of the marui, tuk putting charms in kiri’s hair.

when y/n stomped in, she spotted lo’ak sitting in her corner, taking a nap on one of her pillows.

she stomped over and snatched the pillow from under his head, making him sit the wooden beam he landed on.

“ow! what the hell!?” he barked.

“use your own pillow.” she grumbled.

she walked away and lo’ak slapped her leg as she did. she turned and hit him as hard as she could with her pillow.

“y/n!” jake yelled out.

“what? he’s using my stuff without asking!” she said.

“so? you weren’t using that pillow. leave your brother alone.” he scolded.

she looks down at lo’ak’s smug face before groaning and walking away to her room, a sectioned off part of the marui.

when she walked in, she pulled the tarp off it’s hook and draped it across the doorway, on the other hook to create a door.

she threw her pillow on the floor before plopping down on her sleeping mat.

she cried softly into her hands. she hated her brother. and herself.

how can her brother betray her like this? he has to have known about her crush that she’s kept secret from literally everyone.

he should have been able to tell and should have backed off.

but at the end of the day, it’s not anyones fault. tsireya is who she is and there’s no changing that.

nothing y/n can do but stand to the side and support her for who she loves.

y/n’s breath hitched as someone made their presence known at her doorway.

she sniffed and wiped tears from her cheeks.

“please go away.” she whimpered.

“it’s just me.” neteyam spoke.

y/n rolls her yes and sighs before getting up go pull the tarp aside.

she lets him in and they sit down in the corner next to each other.

“i heard your crying.” he said after a couple moments of silence.

she looks at him. “what about everyone else?”

“no, it’s okay. just me.” he responded.

she sighed and covered her face. he stays looking at her sad little sister.

“what can i do to make you feel better?” he asked.

“nothing, neteyam. you can’t make tsireya like me.” she said, the soreness from her crying affecting the sound of her voice.

he sighs.

“i should have taken your advice earlier. than i wouldn’t be hurting now.” she raised her legs up to her chest before folding her arms on top of them to lay her head on them.

“i’m not trying to say anything like that. I’m not trying to say i told you so. i only care about when you’re feeling like this and what i can do to help.”

she stared at the woven floor of the marui.

“you can beat up lo’ak for me. make him so ugly, tsireya won’t like him anymore.” she said.

neteyam’s laughs make her smile slightly.

they stay quiet for another moment.

“just let me be alone.”

“are you sure?”

“yes. i’ll be okay. thank you.” she told him,

neteyam smiled and rubs her arm affectionately before getting up and leaving her be like she asked.

a couple hours pass after everyone’s gone to bed and y/n left the marui to sit on the beach by herself.

she sits on the sand with her hands at her side, her nails digging in the sand as the gentle waves brush over them.

she sighed while looking up at the moonlight. before plopping on her back, and groaning.

how could i be so stupid? she thought.

[artiststarme]

False Alarm

Thanks to @doubleb11 for this idea! It was fun writing this with all of the chaos. I hope you guys like it and please leave your thoughts in the comments! Also, if anyone comes up with a cool title for it, please let me know!

(now on Ao3)

~*~*~*~

Steve sighed as he sat on the edge of the lake up by his parent’s lake house a couple of hours north of Hawkins. It had been months since the events of Spring Break and dealing with the aftermath of it but Steve hadn’t had a chance to get away to decompress. His time, for months, has been spent carting Max back and forth to physical therapy while her mom worked double shifts, playing bodyguard for Eddie against everyone in town, and hosting DnD at his parent’s house so the kids could act like kids. Between the Party and working back to back shifts at Family Video, Steve was at his wit’s end. So, he did what he always did when he was feeling particularly stressed. 

He called off of work, packed his old school backpack, raided the pantry for snacks, and set off towards his parent’s lakehouse. 

Whenever the silence in his house grew too suffocating or the pressures in Hawkins got too great in the past, he’d leave for a weekend or two. He would drive up to his parent’s lakehouse and relax for however long it took to feel like himself again. Steve would wait until the tension in his shoulder lessened to nothing and the heaviness in his chest lightened. When he finally felt normal again, he would drive back and return to reality, or his fucked up version of it anyway.

Sitting at the lakeside with a cold beer in hand, alone with nature after feeling suffocated with responsibilities back home was enough for him to breathe. 

He’d been pulling this de-stressing disappearing act for years without any repercussions. Whenever he got a bad grade or a particularly gruesome loss in basketball, he’d drive up here for some alone time to wallow. His ‘friends’ at school certainly didn’t notice his absence and didn’t care if they did. His parents too were unaffected with his weekend trips. They never cared when he left, probably wishing he would stay gone. 

After the Upside Down, his disappearances became more frequent. He’d throw some clothes in a bag and hop in his car when he had a bad nightmare or when his head started to ache. He even set up his bedroom at the lakehouse to be an infirmary of sorts, a place he could go to recover from nasty migraines whenever they sprung up. Steve’s biggest fear was becoming a burden to the people he cared about and ending up alone so he hid his weaknesses, dealing with them himself. After his first three experiences with the Upside Down, no one questioned his weekend excursions. They were too busy trying to recoup themselves to worry about him. Inevitably, he would go back to Hawkins and things would continue as they always had. He would hold the facade of having things together and would be available for the kids when they needed him, without having anyone available for him. 

So just like always, when the itch to disappear for a while had come, Steve packed his things and took off without a word. When his heartbeat stopped fluttering and the tension headache faded, he would go back home to his friends that never noticed him missing anyways. 

But for now he would enjoy the views of the lake without going for a swim, PTSD from Spring Break had ruined that, and would relax in a place that had always felt comforting to him. 

~*~*~*~

Eddie was worried about Steve. For the past week and a half, conversations with him had begun to feel one sided with Steve always staring out into the distance, like he wished he could be anywhere else. He kept catching him rubbing at his temples and stressfully scrubbing his hands down his face. 

When Eddie mentioned it to Robin, she explained that those were some of the signs Steve started to show when a migraine was encroaching on him. After her closing shift at Family Video, he drove them both to the Wheeler’s house to pick up some homemade chicken noodle soup with Nancy in tow. Then they went to Steve’s house. 

The usually inviting home was completely dark which made Eddie and Nancy pause. Eddie had never seen the home look so foreboding. Robin didn’t so much as pause in her ministrations.

“The lights hurt his head when he’s having a migraine. I bet the dingus has just been staying in bed the past few days, not even feeding himself. Let’s bring some sustenance to the self-sacrificing idiot,” she answered their unasked question and proceeded to the house. 

But the front door was locked. Both her and Nancy turned to Eddie who just looked at them blankly. 

“Well? Pick the lock!” Robin said, waggling her hands in front of the door. 

“Why would I pick the lock?” He asked her confused. 

“Because it’s locked and I don’t have a key. Pick it!”

“Why can’t we knock and have him open it? If any of the neighbors see me picking his lock, they’ll call the cops and I’ll get arrested!” 

Nancy sighed in exasperation. “Eddie, who cares if they call the cops? Hopper will be on our side and Powell and Callahan are useless anyway. Pick the lock or I’ll shoot it.”

“Nice try,” he said condescendingly. “You didn’t even bring your gun.”

“Didn’t I?” She asked, raising a brow in challenge.

Eddie swiped a hand down his face and pulled a couple of bobby pins from his bun. He wasn’t going to argue with Nancy “gun-slinging” Wheeler, thank you very much. After a few twists, turns, and pokes, the door opened with a soft groan. 

“Thank you,” Robin muttered sarcastically and slid past him. Nancy glared at him and did the same. Eddie looked around the neighbor’s houses before sighing defeatedly and ducking inside to follow the girls. If he got arrested for breaking and entering, Wayne was going to be pissed. At least he was doing it in an effort to help Steve. 

The problem was, Steve wasn’t there. Robin looked frantically all over the house, the basement, and the backyard but she couldn’t find him anywhere. What she did find though was an empty snack stash, a missing bomber jacket, and a lack of school backpack in his closet. 

“Holy shit guys, I think he left! He felt so miserable that he left! Oh my god, what kind of platonic soulmate am I that I didn’t even notice that Steve was suffering? Oh no, what if he doesn’t know we care? I don’t know how to live without him. Nance, Eddie, what do we do?!” Robin rambled, her voice was teetering on the edge of hysterics. 

Nancy looked just as shocked as she did, her own voice shaky when she spoke. “I-I don’t know. Steve is the one that’s always grounded, always so sure of everything. I don’t know what to do. Maybe we can call a code red, alert the kids?”

“Yeah, yeah, we have to, right?” Eddie muttered. Through all of his paranoid wondering, this is not a scenario he had imagined. 

For the next three days, the entire Party searched for Steve. Eddie helped Nancy and Robin visit all of Steve’s old haunts and current hangouts. The kids tried to reach his walkie on Cerebro and tried to call his parents, although they never answered. Hopper, Joyce, and even Murray called hospitals and morgues all over the state of Indiana but nothing came of it.

It was like Steve had disappeared off the face of the Earth. El and Will were positive that it wasn’t Upside Down related, they were sure that the Upside Down was gone for good. Even if it wasn’t they were 100% certain that they would feel it. Dustin and Lucas assured the group that he must’ve been kidnapped. There was no other alternative, Steve wouldn’t just leave. Mike and Max though were a little more pessimistic in their speculations. They thought that maybe Steve didn’t care about them as much as they thought he did. Why else would he run away?

Robin and Eddie in particular were distraught. Robin because her platonic soulmate was missing, because he didn’t feel that he could come to her. Eddie because the object of his affections, his current best friend, and potentially future boyfriend, was missing. They hadn’t discussed feelings yet but their flirting was escalating rapidly so it was only a matter of time. Unless they couldn’t find him which would leave whatever they had on the cusp of something. 

Nancy was horrified at the prospect of Steve leaving. They weren’t in a great place, they never were after Barb disappeared and she called him bullshit. Things were awkward between them now, as they had been for years. But she liked to think they were friends, friends that could lean on each other when they needed to. To discover that Steve didn’t feel that way was heartbreaking. 

And Hopper? Hopper felt like he failed the kid. He knew the Harrington’s were always out of town and he knew that Steve was in that big house all by himself a majority of the time. He should have checked in more, should’ve made him feel more included in his own little family. And now he was gone for good and he would never get the chance. 

~*~*~*~

Steve was feeling refreshed after a few days away. After a mere few days relaxing without responsibility and worry, his heart felt lighter and his head felt clearer than it had in months. He felt good enough to return to his day-to-day life so he took one last view of the picturesque water, threw his bag into the car, and took off. 

The drive back home was always longer than the one he took to the lake house but he passed the time singing to his mixtapes and having a good time. He was bopping his head and singing along to a Queen song, living his best life as he drove past the Welcome to Hawkins sign when he saw police lights behind him. 

“Son of a bitch,” he muttered while he pulled his car over onto the shoulder. Thirty seconds into this goddamn town and it was already giving him problems. 

He didn’t expect Hopper to be the one that pulled him over but alas, when he rolled his window down, he was met with the full-force anger of Hopper’s glare. Steve didn’t know what he did to deserve that but he tried to placate him regardless. “Hey Hop-” 

“Where the hell were you?” He asked, his tone dry and angry.

“On vacation, why?” Steve’s eyebrows furrowed in confusion. Had they noticed he left?

“Step out of your vehicle,” Hopper said and stepped back from his car door. 

“What are you going to do, search it for drugs? I don’t have Eddie with me so you’re not going to find any.”

“Steve, get out of the car!” He yelled. 

Steve huffed and rolled his eyes but did step out of the Beemer. “Hop, what are you doing? I’ve been driving for hours, I just want to go home for a nap-”

He was cut off when Hopper pulled him into a bear hug. “Jesus Christ, Harrington. You scared the hell out of me. You can’t just take off like that.”

“O…kay,” Steve returned his hug but mostly just stared at Hopper’s side profile like he’d gone insane. 

Hopper pulled back enough to rest a hand on his neck like a dad would, lovingly. “C’mon kid, hop in the cruiser.”

“Hop, I’m not just going to leave my car here!”

“Get in the cruiser, Harrington! Now!” He yelled again.

With a couple of grumbles, Steve grabbed his backpack and locked his car. He slid into the passenger seat of Hopper’s police SUV and they were off. Any time Steve tried to speak, ask Hopper what the hell was happening, he just received a gruff, “not now.” 

He didn’t know what was going on but it was safe to say, Steve had never been so confused in his life. 

When the car finally stopped, they were sitting in front of the Byers’ house. Hopper stepped out of the car and motioned for Steve to get out as well, which he did confusedly. “Okay, what-”

Hopper quickly circled to his side of the cruiser and slapped some cuffs around his left wrist. He fastened the other side to his own wrist and pulled him via the cuffs up the driveway. 

“Hop, no offense, but have you lost your goddamn mind? What the fuck are you doing? Are you arresting me? I’m so confused!”

The entire Party came rushing out of the house when they heard his enraged shouts of confusion. When he turned to Robin to ask her what the hell was happening, he was assaulted by the ramble of all rambles. 

“Steve! What the hell, Steve. I was so worried! Eddie told me that you were having some migraine symptoms so we were going to bring you some of Mrs. Wheeler’s homemade chicken noodle soup that you really like so we went to your house but all of the lights were off and the door was locked and I didn’t have a key! You’re getting me a key by the way because you pull stuff like this way too often. Then, I told Eddie to pick the lock to the front door but he didn’t want to because he didn’t want to get arrested for breaking and entering, like you would ever press charges. Nancy threatened him with her gun though so he did pick the lock but you weren’t there! And then we called a code red and we were looking for you for days because we didn’t know where you went! We thought you were dead, Steve. Where did you even go? Where were you?”

Steve just looked at her blankly from his position cuffed to Hopper for a moment. He blinked and asked her, “Nancy threatened Eddie with her gun?”

“Yes, Steve! I did, now where were you!?” Nancy yelled at him from her place behind the group of rowdy children. He was apt to ignore her question until Eddie came up beside him and swung an arm over his shoulder. 

“It wasn’t so much a threat as it was a reminder that she had a gun in her purse. I’m really glad you’re back, Stevie. I was worried out of my mind, Big Boy! Where’d you go?” 

Well, he couldn’t ignore Eddie, especially not when he was so close to him studiously ignoring Hopper’s glare. 

“I went up to my parent’s lake house. It’d been a while and it was nice to get away. Why were you so worried?” Steve asked. 

“Because you disappeared without telling anyone!” Hopper flailed his hands in outrage which only succeeded in jerking Steve’s wrist all over as well. He sighed and unlocked the handcuffs when Steve glared at him. “Kid, we thought you’d been killed or sucked back into the Upside Down. You can’t just leave like that.”

“Okay, next time I’ll tell you guys. I’m sorry you thought I was dead, or missing, or whatever. Now, can someone please give me a ride back to my car?”

~*~*~*~

It had been two weeks and Steve was pretty sure he was living a nightmare. He hadn’t gotten any time alone since he got back to Hawkins and he didn’t know why! He was halfway tempted to up and disappear again to prove a point because this was getting ridiculous. 

Steve prided himself on being independent, he had to be since he was left alone for most of his life. So being stalked and accosted constantly was wearing him a bit thin. Hopper keeps showing up at his house to drag him to the station to “talk”. He doesn’t know why he keeps being arrested but he’s over it. Whenever he leaves Family Video after a shift, one of the kids pops up seemingly out of nowhere to ask for a sleepover or pool party. He went grocery shopping on Tuesday and could see the flash of red hair from his peripheral the entire time. And they’re inviting themselves into his house too! He’s moving a bookshelf and suddenly, there’s Eddie lifting the other end. 

He reaches his limit one day when he’s trying to take a dip in his pool and looks up to see Murray’s head peeking over his hedge. The guy has a glass of vodka in one hand, binoculars in the other, wearing an open robe and wife beater like a nosey neighbor. The thing is though, he’s not Steve’s neighbor. He lives in fucking Illinois! 

Steve pulls himself out of the pool, fully glaring at Murray. He leaves the patio door open when he steps into his kitchen so Murray can hear him speaking on the phone. 

“Sheriff's department, what’s your emergency?”

“I’m being stalked. Literally, anywhere I go everyone is watching me. I swear to god, I was just sitting at my pool and I saw goddamn Murray Bauman’s head pop out from behind one of the hedges. He’s standing there right now, acting like I can’t see him,” Steve said with his eyes meeting Murray’s directly. This fucker doesn’t even blink at being called out. He simply drops the binoculars and raises his middle finger up in the air, completely deadpan and off putting. 

“Oh, you-”

“Sir, it’s a crime to place a false police report and we need this line free to take actual emergencies.”

“This is a real emergency! Is Hopper there? I bet he’s the one behind all of this! I need to talk to him.” Steve shouts, his patience waning with every word. 

“Chief Hopper is out on important police business.”

“Is this Callahan? You really are fucking useless, fuck you!” Steve yells and disconnects the call. 

(Callahan just looks at the phone when he hangs up like ‘what the fuck did I do?’)

Eventually, Steve and the rest of the Party would sit down and discuss their fears and things would go back to normal. But for now, Murray would watch Steve Harrington pace around his kitchen with increasing amounts of rage with the utmost amusement. He didn’t know what to expect when Jim told him to keep an eye on the Harrington boy but geez, is he glad he decided to help.

Permanent tag list: @doubleb11 @nburkhardt @zerokrox-blog @newtstabber @i-less-than-three-you @carlyv @pyrohonk @straight4joekeery @trippypancakes @conversesweetheart @estrellami-1 @suddenlyinlove @yikes-a-bee @swimmingbirdrunningrock @perseus-notjackson @anaibis @merricatty @maya-custodios-dionach @grtwdsmwhr @manda-panda-monium @lumoschild @goodolefashionedloverboi @mentallyundone @awkwardgravity1