#so its okay if they have to crash in your room once in a while

[pucksandpower]

Say My Name

Oscar Piastri x streamer!Reader

Summary: when fans mistake Oscar for your ex while he is hanging around in the background of your stream, you get introduced to a side of Oscar that you’ve never seen before

Warnings: 18+ content

Your fingers fly across the keyboard as you narrate the intense battle unfolding on your stream. “Oh damn, that was close! I almost got sniped there.” You lean in, eyes narrowed at the screen. “Gotta be more careful or this round is over.”

The chat explodes with messages cheering you on. Being one of the top female gaming streamers has its perks, like an incredibly loyal fanbase that hangs on your every word.

You glance at the viewer count — over 50,000 watching live. Not too shabby.

“Okay team, let’s rush B, I’ll try to draw their fire.” You move your character into position, heart pounding with anticipation.

Suddenly, a quiet thump comes from the living room behind you. You start, whipping your head around, but see nothing amiss through the open doorway. Must have been your imagination.

You refocus on the game, calling out tactics to your teammates. Another muffled sound, like something soft hitting the floor, catches your attention. You turn off your video and hit mute on your mic. “Hello? Is someone there?”

No response. You’re just about to unmute when a very familiar face pops into view from the hallway. It’s your boyfriend of nearly two years.

Your face splits into a huge grin as you take in his messy hair and the rumpled clothes he slept in on the flight. “Oscar! You’re back early!”

He crosses to you, bending to press a kiss to the top of your head. “Missed you,” he mumbles against your hair.

You tilt your face up for a proper kiss, “I missed you too, ba-”

But you’re cut off as his lips crash into yours, insistent and heated. Heat blooms in your cheeks at the sudden, passionate embrace. Far too soon, Oscar pulls away, leaving you flustered and breathless.

“Sorry,” he says with a smirk that suggests he’s anything but. “Couldn’t help myself.”

You shake your head, laughing. “You’re ridiculous. I’m working, you know.”

“So I noticed.” Oscar settles onto the couch just off-camera, casual as can be. “Don’t mind me, keep going.”

“You sure?” You eye him skeptically. The stream has been on a short period without your commentary and the chat is getting restless. “I can take a break if you want.”

He waves a dismissive hand. “No, no, I’m just going to hang out here for a bit. Go ahead.”

Hesitating only a moment, you turn your video back on and unmute your mic. “Alright folks, sorry about that little pause. I, uh, got a surprise visitor.” You gesture vaguely toward where Oscar lounges behind you.

The chat instantly lights up with questions about who was there. Smiling to yourself, you ignore them for now, re-focusing on the game.

Over the next hour, it becomes increasingly difficult to concentrate. Oscar keeps distracting you, making silly faces and gestures whenever you glance his way. More than once you have to stifle a laugh after catching sight of him. Your fans seem to find your giggly mood delightful, though they remain oblivious to the cause.

Finally, in a rare break between matches, you swivel in your chair to face him. “You’re being so disruptive,” you stage-whisper. “Don’t you have better things to do than pester me?”

Oscar feigns innocence. “Who, me? I’m just sitting here, love.”

Rolling your eyes, you stretch your arms overhead with a groan, back popping from sitting so long. Oscar’s gaze shamelessly rakes over you, darkening.

“Stop looking at me like that,” you mutter, fighting a smile.

“Like what?” His eyes glint with mischief.

You open your mouth to respond, but a new donation notification pops up on your stream, cutting you off. “Oh, wow, thanks for the ten thousand bits, Legend27!” The expensive donation isn’t that unusual, but the comment attached gives you pause.

I’m so happy you and Eric made up! You two are couple goals for real.

Frowning, you scan the new barrage of messages flooding the chat … and find dozens echoing similar sentiments.

Your stomach drops as you finally realize what your viewers think is happening. They assume Oscar is actually your ex, the one you briefly dated and had an awful breakup with over two years ago. Apparently his surprise appearance has led them to believe you two have reconciled.

Heat floods your face at the misunderstanding. Objecting seems pointless though — you’ve learned it’s better not to discuss your private romantic life on stream. “Ah, thanks guys, you’re too kind,” you finally say, aiming for a neutral tone.

Beside you, Oscar stiffens, catching the implications of the messages. His jaw clenches and you watch as his face cycles through a series of micro-expressions — first surprise, then confusion, quickly followed by displeasure and … jealousy?

Uh oh. This could get messy fast if he gets worked up. You try to subtly shake your head at him in a silent plea to ignore the chat.

No such luck. His brow furrows deeper and you can practically see the tension ratcheting up in his shoulders.

Suddenly, Oscar surges to his feet with a muttered curse. Before you can react, he’s stalking around the side of your chair until he’s directly in view of the camera’s frame.

“Oscar, what are you-”

But he cuts you off by cupping your face in his hands and kissing you hard. Your startled squeak is smothered by his fierce, possessive mouth moving over yours.

Powerless to resist the onslaught of sensations, you melt bonelessly against him as the kiss stretches on and on. Only the escalating number of notifications showing the shock and exclamations from your viewers finally breaks through the heady fog.

With extreme reluctance, Oscar ends the kiss, both of you panting. He keeps his face buried in the crook of your neck, lips brushing your flushed skin as he growls, “She’s mine.”

Then, before you can respond, he reaches past you and slams his palm into the power button of your streaming setup, shutting everything down.

The simultaneous howl of outrage from tens of thousands of confused fans cuts off abruptly as the screen goes black. Only the two of you are left in the ringing silence that follows.

“Oscar!” You finally manage. “What was that?”

He pulls away enough to meet your wide-eyed gaze, his brown eyes blazing with an intensity that steals your breath.

“I got … jealous,” he admits, seeming almost surprised at his own vehement reaction. “When they thought I was your ex. I didn’t like that at all.”

Your expression softens at his uncharacteristic show of vulnerability. Reaching out, you trace his sharp cheekbone with gentle fingers. “You have no reason to be jealous, silly man. It’s only ever been you.”

Some of the blazing heat in his stare banks into smoldering embers at your reassurance. “Yeah?” A smile tugs at the corners of his mouth. “Good.”

He leans in again until his lips are a hairsbreadth from yours. “Because you’re mine, okay? And I’m yours.”

“Yeah,” you breathe out, dizzy with wanting him. “I’m all yours, Oscar.”

The possessive words seem to flip a switch in him. With a low, rumbling sound of approval, his mouth slants over yours once more in a searing, demanding kiss that makes your toes curl.

The abrupt ending to your stream is already causing a social media firestorm of epic proportions. But surrounded by the circle of Oscar’s arms, his familiar warmth and love, you can’t find it in yourself to care even a little bit.

After all, you think dizzily as he deepens the kiss, your fans should have recognized that you two were a couple from the very start — because Oscar Piastri is most definitely not your ex.

He’s your everything.

***

Oscar’s hands are everywhere, seemingly unable to get enough of you as his kisses grow more and more fervent. Your back hits the wall with a gentle thump as he crowds closer, caging you in with the solid warmth of his body.

“Missed you so much, love,” he rasps against the heated skin of your neck. “Couldn’t stop thinking about you.”

A whimper escapes your lips at the scorching path his mouth blazes over your pulse point. “I m-missed you too, Oscar.”

His name falls from your lips like a prayer and he rewards you by sucking a mark into the sensitive spot just below your ear. Pleasure zings along your nerves at the hint of delicious possession in the act.

When he finally pulls back to gaze at you with dark, hooded eyes, his lips are reddened from enthusiastic use. The sight sends a molten flare of desire arrowing straight to your core.

“Say it again,” he commands roughly, voice gone low and gritty in that way that never fails to make you melt.

You blink up at him, momentarily lost in a lust-fueled haze. “W-What?”

“My name.” His large hands skim over the curve of your waist, bunching the fabric of your shirt. “Say my name again.”

“Oscar,” you breathe without hesitation, watching raptly as his pupils blow wider at the sound. “Oscar, Oscar, Oscar ...”

Each breathy iteration seems to stoke his hunger hotter. His fingers flex against your sides like he’s holding himself back from something.

On a daring whim, you slant your mouth near his ear, letting your lips brush the shell with every word. “Oscar Piastri,” you practically purr. “My Oscar.”

A broken groan is your only warning before he’s on you again, mouths crashing together in a heated crash of lips, teeth, and tangling tongues. His hand comes up to cup the nape of your neck, angling your face for deeper exploration.

When you finally manage to tear your lips away, you’re both panting harshly, chests heaving. “What’s … gotten into you?” You pant.

Rather than answer, Oscar just shakes his head and dives back in for more fervent kisses, like a man dying of thirst and you’re the most delicious drink he’s ever tasted.

It’s not until he suddenly grips your waist and spins the two of you around, depositing you on the desk with a surprising lack of finesse, that you realize just how wildly affected he is.

Oscar licks into the seam of your lips like he’s staking a claim and something within you shatters at the stark, naked wanting in his eyes when he pulls back the tiniest bit.

He just stares at you, chest heaving, gaze roving hungrily over your features like he’s memorizing you all over again. His pupils are blown wide, just thin rings of molten brown remaining around the black.

When he speaks, his voice is low and gravelly in a way that vibrates through you. “Say. My. Name.”

“Oscar,” you respond immediately, not even having to think. His hungry gaze burns over you and you feel stripped bare and vulnerable under the weight of it.

But rather than make you want to cover up, it has the opposite effect — you’re reeling him in, hands fisted in his shirt to pull him closer. You never want this delirious, frantic sense of possession and desire to end.

“Again,” he grinds out, sounding utterly wrecked already.

“Oscar.” You bare your neck for him as you say it, like presenting an offering. He groans low and deep, instantly ducking to mouth along the column of your throat.

His hands are everywhere, pushing up the hem of your top, kneading along your sides and ribs as he nips and sucks bruising paths across your collarbones and chest.

“Don’t stop saying it,” he orders, more plea than demand.

So you let his name become a breathless prayer falling from your lips, over and over between gasps and keening whimpers. You lose yourself in a heady feedback loop — the more you speak his name with naked wanting, the wilder it seems to drive him until his touch grows scattered and devouring.

At some point his hands finally succeed in tugging your shirt up and off. Your name doesn’t even register when his scorching mouth closes over one peaked bud, your back bowing at the shuddering bolt of sensation that lances through you.

All you can seem to process is the feel of his calloused palms mapping every inch of newly-exposed skin and the desperate mumble of “Oscar, Oscar, Oscar ...” spilling shameless and endless from your lips.

Eventually, the heated exploration of his mouth and hands becomes too much to simply lay there and take. With a low, guttural sound you haul Oscar upright and swing your legs around his hips, relishing his full body shudder.

“Not enough,” you accuse roughly, rolling your core against his in clear invitation. “Need you closer, Oscar.”

His heated groan at your wanton demand is music to your ears. Strong hands grasp your thighs to hitch your legs higher around his waist as he surges against you.

“So impatient, my darling girl,” he teases. This close, you can make out the faintest brush of freckles scattered over the bridge of his nose and cheekbones that you’ve mapped and memorized with lips and fingertips a hundred times before.

You can’t help but reach out to graze them with your thumb, gazing up at him with naked adoration. “My Oscar,” you murmur reverently.

His eyes slip shut for a beat, jaw ticking as if your words have an unexpectedly profound effect on him. When he opens them again, his gaze is fierce and intent.

“Yours,” he vows simply, leaning in to seal the promise against the plush of your lips.

The kiss is somehow softer and headier than before. You get lost in the lush glide of his mouth, every sliding brush of lip and tongue shorting out whatever rational thoughts remain until all you know is his name — the shape and taste and weight of it against your own.

It’s the only thing that seems real, vital, until at some point Oscar’s mouth leaves yours to trail hot, openmouthed kisses down your chest and stomach and lower still.

Your back bows as you squirm incoherently against the press of his lips and tongue. His restraint seems to have finally snapped, movements growing hungry and rough as he works you steadily higher.

“Oscar,” you sob out his name like you’re breaking apart, pleading for something you can’t quite name. He answers with a rumbling sound of satisfaction that vibrates hotly against your sensitized flesh.

More, is all you can think as he redoubles his efforts.

At some point, you must have arched helplessly off the desk because suddenly his hands are at the small of your back, fingertips digging in hard as he holds you arched for his questing mouth.

The intimate angle of his positioning has your jaw dropping open on a silent scream of overwhelmed pleasure. All that escapes is a strangled gasp of, “Oscar!”

He growls something incoherent against you that might be praise, might be reassurance, might just be your name groaned out roughly in shared bliss. But you honestly can’t tell anymore — you’ve transcended far past coherent speech and rational thought.

Everything has devolved into just sensation and feeling and the endless loop of his name spilling over and over from your lips like a benediction.

Oscar, Oscar, Oscar ...

Just when you think you might actually shatter into pieces from the intensity he’s wringing out of you, strong hands are abruptly hauling you up and off the desk in one smooth motion.

You cling to him with heavy limbs, burying your face in the crook of his neck as he staggers the few steps to your shared bedroom. At some point his shirt has vanished, allowing your hands free rein to roam over flexing muscle and heated skin.

When the backs of his legs hit the edge of the mattress, he pauses to claim your mouth in another searing, shattering kiss. He whispers something fervent and intense against your lips, your name perhaps intertwined with endearments or promises.

You can’t be sure. All you know is the shape of his name against your tongue, the only word your mind seems capable of holding onto as he lowers you reverently to the sheets and stretches out over you.

When he finally sinks into you with a harsh groan of relief, your back bows and you let out a broken, high keen — his name once more torn from your lips in breathless ecstasy.

“There you are, that’s it love,” he growls hoarsely as he begins to move, words interspersed between drugging, thorough thrusts. “Let me hear you, let me hear my name on those pretty lips.”

So you do, shamelessly loud and incoherent now as he gradually unravels you from the inside out. His name and gasped pleas and frantic praise all blur together in a continuous stream of blissful delirium.

At some point, his own control seems to splinter apart, hips snapping hard and deep as his pace turns utterly unrestrained. Still, you chase that shattering edge, crying out for Oscar as your whole world narrows to the merciless intensity of his driving thrusts and demanding hands kneading your flesh with staking ownership.

When you finally go soaring over that dizzying peak with his name torn hoarse from your throat, he follows you over almost violently with a ragged shout. Oscar’s arms shake dangerously as he holds his weight off of you, pupils swallowing up the copper of his eyes entirely in onyx pools of spent lust.

As you slowly float back down from that searing high, limbs heavy and sated, you reach up to trace the sharp line of his cheekbone. He turns his face into your palm with a shuddering exhale as if grounding himself.

For several long breaths, all that can be heard is your shaky inhales mingling together while your racing heartbeats gradually return to normal.

Finally, Oscar presses a warm, lingering kiss to the center of your palm before shifting to stretch out beside you, his weight dipping the mattress.

You immediately curl into the reassuring heat of him, despite the sweat still cooling along your skin. One of his arms bands around your waist, holding you flush against his side while his other hand comes up to card soothingly through your hair.

Nestling your face into the curve where his shoulder meets his neck, you press a gentle kiss to the hollow of his throat and whisper, “Hi.”

“Hi yourself,” he murmurs back, low and slightly scratchy in the aftermath. You can hear the smile in his voice as his fingers keep carding idly through your hair.

Silence falls again, comfortable and peaceful in the aftermath of your frantic passion, both of you simply basking in the warmth of shared nearness.

Eventually though, the question you’ve been avoiding asking slips out in a hazy murmur. “What brought all … that … on, Oscar?”

He’s quiet for so long, you begin to wonder if he fell asleep. Just when you’re about to shift to look at him though, he speaks up.

“When your fans assumed I was your ex … the way they were celebrating that the two of you got back together ...” His fingers stroke almost absentmindedly through your hair as he pauses. “I dunno, something in me just .. .snapped a little. Seeing them say over and over how perfect he was for you ...”

He trails off with a low chuckle, and you can’t resist craning your neck to glance up at him curiously. When your eyes meet his, his expression is rueful.

“I couldn’t stand the thought of any other name on your lips, love. Even your own.” His fingertips trace the line of your jaw with unbearable tenderness. “All I wanted was for you to say my name like that — like it’s the only word that matters in the entire world.”

Just like that, a fresh ember of want rekindles low in your belly at the slightly awed honesty in his voice. You exhale a shaky breath, searching his stormy gaze for … what? Evidence of how crazily affected you are by such a simple revelation?

Whatever he finds reflected in your stare seems to give him pause as well because his eyes almost immediately darken with renewed hunger.

“Say it again then,” he husks, rolling until he’s leaned over you, hands planted on either side of your head. There’s no demand in the words, just low, thrumming need thrilling between you both.

So you reach up to cup his face in your palms, rubbing your thumbs over the sandpapery stubble along his strong jawline as you gaze adoringly up at him.

“Oscar ...” you breathe out his name like a sacred invocation. “My Oscar.”

His eyes slip shut and he makes a low, ragged sound of pure satisfaction on an exhale that ghosts across your lips.

“Yeah,” he rasps, bending lower until his forehead rests against yours. “That’s it, love … that’s all I ever want to hear.”

You pull him back down to you then, unable and unwilling to resist sealing the promise of those words against his lips with your own.

And as everything inevitably dissolves into heat and need and formless ecstasy once more, you lose yourself to the endless chant of his name on your lips — your entire world whittled down to just that one exalted word, over and over and over.

Because really, what other name could ever matter when Oscar Piastri is the only name you’ll ever need?

[yawnderu]

cr: @ave661

Simon wasn't a stupid man. He always knew better, knew to look between the lines even when you tried your best to be deceiving. Even then, the pure rejection you showed to your newborn baby was something not even the best actress could hide. Refusing to hold her after she was born and fully shutting down on Simon, screaming at him whenever he tried to offer any sort of help and support, only getting worse if he ever tried to approach you while holding the baby.

Post-partum depression is no joke, Simon realized after doing his own research, only then realizing just how bad it can get after accidentally stumbling on article upon article of mothers getting to the point of harming their own child. You weren't like that— Simon liked to convince himself despite the growing pit of dread in his stomach, anxiety seeping out of every pore of his body when even months later you refused to hold or interact with the baby.

It all came crashing down after he came back from deployment, the nanny holding his daughter while soothing her with calm words, doing her best to console the crying infant despite the tears falling down her cheeks when she confessed to him that you're gone.

Gone without a trace, at first. Simon wasted no time using his connections to know where you were. Laswell was the most helpful, giving him all the details of the help center you were in, yet even then, Simon didn't reach out first in fear of messing up your progress, not wanting to add more stress to your situation when you were trying to get better.

Four years. For four years, Simon's life was divided in deployments and taking care of his daughter at home, never once thinking about moving on, always asking Laswell for updates— updates she was glad to give him using her own connections, wanting to give Simon some peace of mind even if it went against the rules.

“It's okay.” Simon reassured his daughter, his long sleeves wet with cola that she spilled from her little cup. His home was the complete opposite of the absolute hell he grew up in, not allowing himself to scream, hit, or take out his frustration on the little carbon copy of himself sitting on the couch.

“'M sorry, daddy.” Her sweet voice made the corners of his lips tilt up into a smile, planting a soft kiss on the top of her head, taking off his sweater and putting it away, wasting no time on grabbing a towel to clean up the now sticky mess of coke on the table.

“It's okay, love. Jus' don't tip it, 's gonna spill.” She gave him a small salute in understanding, a cheeky grin on her lips when she saw him holding in his laughter, knowing fully well she's copying him— as usual.

The doorbell ringing got Simon's full attention, giving his daughter one last look before he went to answer. His eyes widened slightly the moment he saw your shorter figure waiting for him, purposely making yourself smaller like a dog with its tail tucked between its legs, a small folder held in your hands. You're both quiet for what seems like forever, the only sounds coming from your daughter in the living room, the TV displaying a kid's show Simon put on.

“I'm so so—” You don't even have the chance to finish your sentence before you're being pulled into a tight hug, Simon's burly arms wrapping around your body, every single second spent missing you, secretly hoping you'd come back one day crashes down on him the moment he feels your arms wrap around his waist, holding him as tight as possible, as if he'd disappear if you don't hold onto him for dear life.

“I got better.” You whisper into his ear, rubbing his back soothingly when he doesn't let go of you. Not yet— not when the love of his life is finally back after years. He plants a soft kiss on your shoulder before his face goes back to burying in the crook of your neck, taking in the familiar scent.

It takes minutes for Simon to finally let go, hesitation clear in his actions as he looked down at you, keeping one hand on your waist in silent fear of you seeping through his fingers. The folder in your hand gets his attention, giving you a questioning look before you offer it to him, managing to give him a small smile of reassurance despite all the anxiety and fear.

“My psychotherapist wrote it. It's... just a paper that shows the progress I've made from her perspective.” You stand awkwardly as he reads the document, taking in every single word written by the woman who has been helping your for four long years. You can hear your daughter giggling at the TV show, only making the anxiety in your stomach grow more by the second.

To your surprise, Simon steps out of the way to allow you into the home he created, his safe haven. Nothing changed from the last time you were here, other than toys scattered all over the place, likely from Simon being too busy bonding with his daughter to even clean.

You can see the little girl sitting on the couch as you walk closer, her brown eyes fully focused on the screen until she hears something from behind her. She's so much bigger now, looking like a tiny carbon copy of Simon, down to the little skull-patterned pajamas she was wearing.

She turns around after seeing you from the corner of her eye, her little face lighting up into a toothy grin as she jumps from the couch, sprinting towards you as fast as her little legs allow her to.

“Mommy!” You crouch down to her height out of pure instinct, almost being knocked off balance when she crashes into you, her tiny arms wrapping around your neck. The fact that Simon never stopped talking about you to her and kept your pictures warms your heart, being as delicate as possible as you hug her back.

“Y'look so pretty.” She has Simon's accent, making you let out a small laugh before looking down at her, cupping her cheek just to examine her features better.

“Thank you, sweet girl.” You're glad for the way she cuddles up to you again, not bothering to hide the tears falling down your cheeks at the sheer love displayed by the same girl you left four years ago. Your gaze drifts up to Simon, whose eyes are glossier than usual despite the fact that he's not shedding a tear. He gives you a small nod in acknowledgement, not daring to look away from the heartwarming scene in front of him.

“Daddy talks a lot about you.” She whispers into your ear, covering her mouth as if she's telling you the biggest secret ever. You giggle at the little gossiper, your warm hand running up and down the length of her hair.

“He does?” You whisper back, giving Simon a cheeky look at the admission, one of his thin eyebrows raising when he sees your daughter nod her head vigorously, giggling as she looks at Simon.

“Well, I'm sure he talks a lot about you too.” The pure forgiveness that comes from both of them drowns the guilt, if only for a short while.

“You're such a pretty princess.” Your arms wrap around her again, rocking her softly from side to side, allowing yourself to take in their love. It doesn't take long for Simon's resolve to falter, dropping to his knees and wrapping his burly arms around his girls protectively, planting a little kiss on your forehead.

Despite everything, there's no one else he'd rather spend the rest of his life with.

Dad!Ghost Masterlist

[tragedy-of-commons]

"You're burning up" + Aventurine?

"You're burning up."

Aventurine doesn't know what else to say, so he goes with those three words. Safe bet - the doting parents in all the movies and sitcoms say it just like that; with care and worry, palm splayed out across the ill's forehead.

And holy hell are you ill.

Collapsed on his lavish sofa, you groan in response, swatting his hand away. "I'm gonna be just fine..."

He's inclined to disagree. You're sweating buckets despite how he'd mashed the thermostat down to its limit - he even had to shrug on a jacket. Perhaps Aventurine would have poked fun at you for your intolerance, but he has enough decorum to hold his tongue. He really doesn't like seeing you so put out, as much as you're welcome to crash here.

"Your poker face could use some work. Save your words, we can hang out another time," he dismisses easily, bracing himself for your incoming opposition. He reluctantly breaks away from your side to amble over to the coffee table, beginning to clean up the remnants of game night.

"No way," in the corner of his eye, he notices you shifting restlessly, "finals are coming up. Won't have time after this..."

Aventurine sighs, sweeping his very nice clay chips into one hand while using the other to click open their case. This time of year, things become almost unbearably hectic. He has exams coming up in a few weeks himself, and though he never needs to study, he always adheres to your modus operandi of 'cram now, cry later'.

"Well, you're not going back to those dorms in that state."

"You sound like a dickhead," you murmur. "You think I wanna live there? Shitty thin walls... shitty dining hall food..."

He chuckles, snapping the case shut and dusting his hands of nonexistent dust. "You're cruder than usual when you're feverish."

Aventurine almost startles when you gasp. "I have a fever?!"

...and you're loopy, too.

He gets you to sit still with the promise of retrieving a fever reducer and some water. Aventurine roots through his bathroom cabinets, combing through his own extensive collection of self-care and skin products to reach where he keeps his medication.

It takes several minutes of crouching down on the tile for him to realize he doesn't have any. He clicks his tongue - well, it seems his own lifestyle has backfired on him once again. Aventurine doesn't get sick often, doesn't spend a lot of time at home, and has enough stubborn resilience to power through any ailment that might plague him.

But for you? The only reason he spends any time at all in this stupidly expensive penthouse?

Yeah, he'll make a quick trip to the drugstore.

When he walks back into the living room with his shoes on and wallet in his pocket, his heart warms. You've somehow slipped into an upside down position, hair spilling over the edge of the cushions. You somehow make it look comfortable, eyes closed and brow free of any creases.

"Does that help your sinuses?" he asks, really only to test if you're awake.

"You smell good..."

Aventurine ignores how those words make him feel, eyeing the door (and where your shoes are lined up neatly against the wall).

"I have to restock on Tylenol," he swallows. "Will you be okay by yourself?"

"Yes," you respond coherently this time.

Before he departs, he cajoles you into another position in case you throw up like that and end up choking - not without some strangely endearing complaints that you'd normally never voice, positive thing you are.

He doesn't get to the inside mat before you pipe up again, making him stop in his tracks.

"C'mere," you cough. "Please, humor a dying star's last wish..."

He really should be going so he can get your temperature down quicker, but leaving you on the sofa while you're about to cough up a lung strikes him as cruel. Aventurine gives into your dramatics - which happen to perfectly align with his own at times - and makes his way over to you.

"What is it? Did I forget something?" he sits down on the armrest, perching there with perfect balance. When you don't respond immediately, an odd little expression on your face, he rests his chin on his fist, pensive.

You hum.

He doesn't expect much; a request for another pillow, a plea for him to turn on a movie for you while he's out. Instead, he's caught off-guard as you throw an arm around his waist and pull, effectively whisking him off the high ground and right into your grasp.

Aventurine initially tenses but settles as you nuzzle closer. You're the only person in the world that can get away with loving him so easily.

"M'sorry I got sick on game night..." you whisper, uncaring that you're spreading your sickness (and your homely oxytocin).

He finds himself not caring much either.

"Do you believe me to be that hung up on you catching a cold?"

Aventurine's heart rabbits cruelly - he's sure you can hear it, with the way you're snuggled against him and whatnot, but maybe he'll get lucky like he always has, and you'll remain oblivious and perfect and unbothered, despite what you do to him.

You sniffle, words thick with exhaustion. "I dunno. Just stay."

He can't. Not just because he has to go pick up that Tylenol, but because he feels like he might die if you keep saying things like that.

"Five minutes," he acquiesces.

Aventurine waits for your celebration of victory, but no such thing comes. You're fast asleep, clinging to him like he's worth something.

He stays for a lot longer than five minutes, only wriggling out of your arms when he's sure you won't wake up to find him gone. When he returns later with his spoils (which also just so happen to include your favorite drink), you're cradling a pillow in his place.

Before Aventurine is your boyfriend or lover, he is a liar.

He is most definitely, unequivocally, one hundred percent hung up on you.

🏷️: @akutasoda, @aviiarie, @lowkeyren

a/n: modern au because i couldn't possibly resist. just wanted to mention here that u guys absolutely killed it with these quotes. you have my gratitude! also why is he like that. soggy wet cat

event post here

[redcherrykook]

── .˗ˏˋ ♡ ˎˊ˗ TENSION DEGREE 04

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College roomate!Jungkook x college roomate!reader- fwb 2 Lovers

Text messages of this chapter!

You find yourself having to share your room with a very sexually active medical science major who so happens to fancy you. Good thing he´s as charming and spontaneous as you, leading to many crazy parties and places you probably should not be hooking up at. When Jungkook started ignoring all his booty calls after accidentally calling someone by your name, unable to fuck away the thought of you, he knew he was cooked. Would he really leave his playboy antics for that sweet company of yours?

series- four!

content: mild slow burn- fwb2l, roomates, mutual pining, player jungkook that falls devoted to reader, cocky!JK, Confident!reader, psychology major reader, banter, parties, lots of smut (duh), only one bed trope, skinny dipping, roadtrip vibes

episode- warnings: sexual content (blowjob, making out, grabbing/groping, dirty talk), weed

Taglist: @khadeeeeej @ot7stansthings @whoa-jo @smoljjks @stvrlighytt @nono13bnd @jungshaking @junniesoleilkth @deepikhaprakash @rockstryoon @tatamicc @jjeonjjk7 @kookieandjoonberries @jcrl99 @httpjeonlicious @wnteraezz @aphrodyteeth @miniesjams32 @emojkoo @katie-tibo @user-190811 @massivebearharmony @hoseokteardrop @hoseoksluv89 @hoseoksluv90 @kooksdreamer

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"you sure you don´t wanna come?" Jungkook begs for the millionth time today,

He most definitely has a thing for pursuading you into his adventures,

Not that you mind anyways

Three days after the trip, 11:45 o'clock at night.

It felt like a delicious secret, knowing that you had him all to you,

.. you and his other girls.

To be fair, in these three days, there had only been the two of you

Not even chae knew, not yet

You'd tell her, tonight, for sure tonight.

Finally admitting that yes, the sexy roomate you wanna fuck maybe is worth it

To rewind, the last day spent at the beach house was fairly normal, that is, according to your standards

Packing, BBQing and acting like you haven't fucked your best friend and roomie which had been, surprisingly, easy.

No awkward waking up, no weird looks or air,

Just sexual tension that was easily resolved by quick make outs in the kitchen, right around the corner of your friends,

After the whole group had to hear yoongi getting his soul sucked out, even hoseok dropped trying to get in your pants.

Eunwoo was the only one that noticed something going on,

Giving you his number, for what ?

"Incase you wanna talk about that sexcapade you got going on, he can be annoying"

You accepted it, confused.

Right now, you're back in your little dorm, already having removed the smudged day make up and changed into comfy pjamas,

Hello kitty, obviously

"God you're lame" he sighs, rolling up a second blunt,

You join him by scoffing, pinching his cheek while walking by.

"Fine fine, okay"

He slips it into his cigarette case once he's done, grabbing a lighter from the microwave while you jiggle the car keys in your hands,

"Where is it exactly?" a simple question leaves your lips, still, it makes him chuckle.

His brilliant idea of the day was to go stargazing, then getting faded while talking about everything that came to mind.

You'd have to stay a long time, just to make the drive back.

He didn't mind, he said.

"I think its like a 25 min drive? Wanna get a snack too?"

Your head shakes, already stepping out the door with one foot,

"Would loveeee to be in the passenger seat though" you shout back, knowing that this battle has been your win from the start

-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈

"I should be studying the attachment theories of bowlby right now" you laugh, rolling down the warm grass,

Another gentle push finds your shoulder, Jungkook's firm body crashing right next to you,

"Nerd" he chuckles

The scenery above is something straight out of a movie, thumping noises of the bustling city, far, far removed

So faint, even the car engines are being overshadowed by rustling branches of huge trees,

Stood tall around the patches of grass, like the one you're resting on.

The sky is clear, deep ocean blue with hundreds of smaller and bigger, shining stars illuminating the atmosphere, making up for the suns absence

Jungkook's head turns sideways, his eyes scanning over your sharp side profile, wide eyes twinkling from the beautiful sight

He smiles, reaching into his cigarette case to take out the two blunts, along with his lighter

Once the smoke clouds your vision so does the herby smell,

"Give me a puff kook" you say, scooting closer to him

He takes another drag, exhaling the smoke into the air,

You rest your under arm propped up on the grass, head and lower body now sat up, while your legs still lay close,

Sticking out the blunt qnd lifting it to your lips, you lean in, placing them around the calming sensation of finally smoking weed again

"Feels good huh? Better than bowlby?" his slender fingers stretch to tuck a strand behind your ear,

"Mhm" you hum, puffing the smoke out once more, making him grin with yet another idea

"C'mere baby"

You scoff, leaning in nonetheless

He takes a long, deep drag, swallowing the thickened smoke to be locked in his throat,

His hands pulling your face by your jaw, making you lean over him

Getting the message, your lips collide with his, opening your plump lips slightly to recieve the smoke from his mouth into yours

You accept it, gladly inhaling the sweet herby calmness

"Good girl" he winks, smiling cockily while rubbing his thumb on your bottom lip

You push him by his chest, pressing him deeper into the grass

He pushes back, making you lay down next to him with a small groan

"You're so annoying" you grin anyways, unable to hide how you truly feel

It always feels like the world is a little quieter when you're with him,

Calmer, while also being a whole lot more exciting

"Want me to light the second one?"

Your head tilts to his, now it being your turn to watch his side profile while he gazes up to the hopeful stars,

"Nah, one is enough"

His head turns too, leaving a couple centimeteres between your heads,

Almost crashing when he does so,

The softness of his face is so evident up close, erasing him from the shackles of his obnoxious personality

In the best way imaginable, of course

"Hmm you're right, im already high and really horny" he says, a proud look going down your body, even in your hello kitty pyjama pants and the white tank top you're wearing,

Jungkook is going crazy, the burning desire under his skin to run his hands all over you is becoming harder and harder to ignore

Finding it entertaining, you climb on his hips, which makes his hands immediately occupy the softness of your comfy pants, feeling the impact of his palms on your hips through them

You'd never pass up an oppurtunity to touch him

"hm, you are? really?" you say innocently, the sound of your voice so alluring, so inviting

He sucks in a breath when your hands find their way creeping under his shirt, slowly tracing up his hardend ab muscles

"Fuck yeah i am" he mutters under his breath, increasingly getting worked up by your little teases, gesturing down his body with your eyes

Hands following suit by playing with his belt, his palms press inward on your hips, firmly caressing them while his growing bulge pushes into your hips from below,

The pressure feels so good, having him grow thick and heavy below your touches

All he can look at is you, your tits in perfect, squished view, your face all concentrated,

The mesmerizing scenery you drove for is getting outshined by two horny college students

"Wanna get your dick sucked jeon?"

the groan he lets out combined with the way his hand moves to wrap around your throat, pulling you down, should be answer enough,

However, the sparks only increase when his deep, teasing tone of voice turns slightly whiny,

"If you talk like that i'll cum baby, please" he says, biting the corner of his lip,

You moan, capturing him in a deep, messy kiss that leaves a string of saliva connecting you, tongues poking out slightly

"Sit up then, knees apart"

He follows suit immediately, barely regsitering what's going on around him

The throbbing of is hard cock is enough to do anything for a sweet release,

Besides, you could always make him forget where the two of you are, none of that mattered

"You look so sexy like this bunny" he mumbles, keeping the whiny desperation laced within his voice,

Eyes wandering over the way your back arches, how your forearms are pressed into the ground, that sweet look of anticipation making him lose his mind

One of your small, delicate hands wrapping around the base of his dick

You can't help but slap it against your lips and cheek a couple times, the reaction of his,

The way his eyes tense and his jaw clenches,

It's too good to pass up

A gobble of spit lands on his cock, you let it run down slowly, pumping him firmly until your thumb hits his tip,

"Mmh fuck" he moans, head already threatening to fall back, he's so enticed with the way you move, the way you look so innocent peering up at him though your lashes,

His moans intensify, turning into lower pitched groans once your tongue and lips wrap around his tip, focusing on building up the pressure,

"Please bunny, take it like the pretty girl you are, i need to feel you so bad" he mutters, reaching to stroke your cheek with one of his tattooed fingers,

You hum against his skin, letting yourself down on him,

He's big, so big you struggle to take him in with an open throat, gagging once all of him is stuffed inside your sweet mouth,

He moans loudly, gathering some of your hair in order to support the movements of your head, bumping up and down on his cock,

"That's it, good girl, you feel so good"

By now you're begining to notice his head had fallen back, eyes squeezed shut tightly from the overwhelming pleasure,

Feeling your tongue swirl around his dick, the way you gag and moan when his pushes become rougher,

He's never been like this before, so into it and lost in the feeling of being on the recieving end,

"Fuck - oh my god, that's it, mhmm, gag on my dick pretty, doin' so well"

The way his praises keep flowing out has your own slick running down your folds, complentary to the way drool is leaking from the corner of your mouth

From the way he twitches in your mouth, the rapidly approaching orgasm was undeniable,

"Gonna cum baby, want you to swallow every drop, understood?" he pants, opening his eyes to gaze down at your pretty face, fully occupied with his cock

You moan, letting him know you will

And when he does, with a couple last curses and pushes of your tangled hair in between his fingers,

Your eyes meet his, watching his face fall beautifully while simultaneously feeling hot ropes of cum spurting down your throat

You swallow, of course, showing him your empty mouth afterwards

"Mhm.. god.." he's still trying to catch his breath, "c'mere bunny"

You're on top of his thigh, practically in his lap, his hand having found the comfortability on your face once again,

Pecking your lips a few times, which makes you smile in return

"You give the best head, no joke"

You can´t help but laugh, thinking that his casual comment made you swell with pride, it´s comofrting, knowing that from the many girls,

maybe you are different,

maybe you could be?

A soft kiss is placed on his nose, you ruffle his hair too, almost as in taking revenge for how messed up you look because of him

"Well i sure hope so now that i have a birds nest in my hair" you giggle,

He rolls his eyes, hands tightening around the soft skin of your waist, sneakily having found their way under your clothes

"You're beautiful, shut up" he says, capturing you in a kiss once more,

It's becoming increasingly more difficult to pretend the heartbeat in your chest is regular, like the blush on your cheeks is as well

He doesn't make it any easier, not in the slightest

"Wanna know what im craving so bad right now"

"What?" You ask, playing with a few strands of his hair,

"Fast food, like a crazy bacon burger or somethin' " he replies, licking his lips to portray the severity of the situation,

a slight look of disappointment hitting your face,

he coos,

"Awhh what? wanted me to say your name?"

his exaggerated pout stirrs up annoyance in you,

"Well I gave you the best blowjob and get met with a burger craving"

Jungkook kisses you swiftly, lacing his fingers in your hair,

"I´ll make it up to you at home, i promise"

your lips curve into a small smile, now that you think about it, a burger does sound really good,

maybe that´s the weed in your system talking

"Let's go get it then, i'd kill for a burger"

He seems happy with your agreement, hoisting you up bridal style while talking,

"On it pretty" his hand moves down, quickly squeezing your ass, which makes you hit his back with another airy gasp,

The thought of being uncomfortable never crossing your mind,

Even if some other, pressing thoughts are developing far too loudly for your liking.

[loganlermanstanaccount]

PLEASE! I BEG THAT YOU WRITE AN MIGUEL O’HARA FICTION! IM BEGGING!! PLEASEE!!!! (Sorry if I come off harsh)

Ask and you shall receive!! A quick thing I wrote (not proofread), thanks for the ask <3

Touch

Miguel O'Hara x reader

(AO3 Mirror), Part 2, Main Masterlist

summary: Miguel misbehaves. You teach him a lesson. part one maybe?? idk y'all let me know if u want a pt 2. (Part 2 is out!)

warnings: pwp!! light f-dom, angry (ish??) sex, grinding, slight m-sub, (m) begging. mostly just filth. I am soooo desperate for any character played by Oscar Isaac. 18+ Minors DNI

a/n: I apologise in advance, native Spanish speakers. Me and reverso tried our best. 

wc: 1.4k

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

A great crash from the workshop has you running from all the way in the kitchen, apron still on. 

He looks tired, hunched over his desk. Great hulking shoulders hang, tense in the dim light of a single lamp.

"Miguel?" It's soft, in the metallic hum of lights. "Everything okay?" 

He shifts, looking over his shoulder at you. "M'sorry for the noise mi sol, just tired." 

"...maybe it's time to call it a night, baby."

He waves you off with a flick of the wrist.   "Give me ten minutes, I'll come to bed."

"That's what you said half an hour ago, Miggy." It's under your breath but loud enough that his super senses pick it up.Your voice is fraught, frustrated - no doubt at the nights he'd spent away from you. Whether coming back late from tinkering in his workshop, or on the streets; he'd meet you fast asleep in bed, and wake up to an early morning rush. Either way, he seemed like a stranger in your own home; consumed with his work. It was taking its toll. 

You pad back, returning to the kitchen in silence. You clean up the remnants of a dinner Miguel had picked at, sighing. You loved him, and you knew he loved you; but he lived in his own world sometimes. Sure, the world needed him; but what about you? After everything you had given each other, how could he discard you so easily? 

It's only after a while Miguel realises the noises of you clearing up have long subsided, that he heads into the kitchen to investigate. It's meticulously clean, your apron hanging up on its peg by the door. On the counter, the remainder of his dinner boxed up in tupperware, with a post-it-note on the lid. 'For Miggy <;3' , it reads. 

His heart aches as he walks towards your room. You're dressed in nothing but his t-shirt, knees drawn and curled up into yourself. He slides into bed, staring up at the ceiling. 

"Mi vida?" He mumbles. "Mi vida, I know you're awake." 

You respond with an unceremonious grunt, back still turned. You're mad at him, and he deserves it. 

"I'm sorry." He says, listening to the rise and fall of your chest in the dark. He sits up. Sighing, he cradles your arm, tracing circles into the flesh. Gentle, and oh so soft. "I'm an idiot, you know that. I fucked up. Couldn't see how much you were hurting."

You stir, turning to face him. In the neon lights that stream into your room, his face falls. He brings a hesitant hand to cup at your cheek. 

"Say something. Please." Imperciptably, he watches your eyes fall to his lips. 

You kiss him, passionate and hot and angry. He can barely breathe when you envelope your plush lips around his, snaking your hand towards his back. You claw at his shirt, raking a hand into his hair. When you separate, it's obscene; a sliver of saliva still connecting his lips to yours. His scarlet eyes are low as he licks his lips; chasing your taste. You both sit up. 

"You haven't touched me in weeks, Miguel." Your voice is dangerously low, hand wrapped around his neck.

He wraps strong hands around your waist, guiding you to straddle him. For once, he's grateful for the flimsy fabric of his t-shirt - thin around the apex of your pebbled nipples. He paws at your hips, hands trailing towards your bare thighs. Just as they come to rest towards their crook, you snatch his hands away. 

"Let me make it up to you," He hisses at the contact, leaning into your touch. "Por favor, sólo una probadita, just a taste, my love."

"No touching." Dramatic, he protests, cursing in Spanish before you bring a thumb to his mouth to silence him. 

"No. Touching."

Eyes lidded, looking up at you, it takes everything not to break; you fight the urge to kiss the tip of his nose and whisper praise into the crook of his neck. Instead, you coax your thumb into his mouth; as he swirls his tongue around it, like he would on your clit. Miguel savors it like the sweetest honey, grateful you'll even touch him considering how he's been acting. 

He swells in his pants, hard as the crotch of his sweats graze your bare pussy. Beautiful tits pressed against his chest,  you draw small circles with your waist against the seat of his crotch. Precum spills as his hips jump up to meet you, desperate for contact. 

Immediately, you stop. With a pop, you pull your thumb from his mouth and Miguel moans at the loss. 

"Mierda. Baby, please-"

"No. Here's what's going to happen. I'm going to use you to get off. You're gonna watch, if you're lucky. And then I'm…" You swirl your hips, causing him to groan. "... going to bed." 

"¿Entiendes?" You croon, spiteful in the slow sway of your hips. "Do you understand, Miguel?" 

"-f-fuck, ok, ok-" Desperately nodding, he grips the sheets by his side. Closing his eyes to steady himself, he slumps his head on your shoulder. God, he's trying so, so hard not to cum right there; turned on by the lull of your sweet voice. He likes it when you get angry and treat him like a toy - painfully hard at the way you light him on fire. Everything about you; your scent, the way you taste, the grip you have in his hair; turns his senses up to eleven. 

You grind on his crotch, steadying yourself with your other hand on his shoulder. Plush lip tucked under your teeth, it takes all his willpower not to capture you in another kiss: hungry and consuming and overpowering. He can tell you're serious; everytime he grinds his crotch into yours, you will yourself to stop and tighten your grip. 

"Miguel…" You warn, moaning softly into his ear. "I m-meant what I said…"

When his hips snap up the third time; you growl, frustrated. Both your hands move to his chest, pushing him down onto the mattress so he's on his back. He looks good like this; at your mercy and putty under your hands. You push up the lip of his shirt to expose his midsection and pull down his sweats. A happy trail snakes down to his neatly trimmed cock; its deliciously curved tip springing free. Precum covers his cock, so when you slide him between the lips of your pussy it glides like he was made for you. You bite down on your lip so hard, it almost bleeds. 

With this new angle, you plant your hands by his head; grinding your clit onto his dick desperately. The slick sounds drive Miguel crazy, and when his hands fly to your waist to help you along, you don't move them. 

"You're s-so pretty, mi vida… prettiest thing I've ever seen. Need it. Need you. Use me, please, hump my cock like I'm your toy, p-please, please…"

He knows your body better than you do. You're close, dangerously near the edge. With the way your thigh shakes and the spasms that slow your rhythm, he knows. You don't break eye contact with him under you, moaning as you slide on his cock. Desperate, you chase that sweet spot, electric when he angles your hips just so… 

"M'gonna cum, fuck, Miggy-" You writhe desperately. He's close, too, shamelessly humping your pussy like a feral animal. He can taste it; white hot at the tip of his tongue. Finally, you cum: a leg shaking, biting orgasm that rips through you. You clench around nothing, but it's not enough for him. So, so close; and it's ripped away from him when you come down, in the aftermath. 

Unceremoniously, you pant and roll off of him; spread-eagle atop the sheets. Miggy curses softly at his ruined orgasm - still rock hard. He's glad you feel good, but he knows he can make you feel better, broad hands pawing at your hips. You slap them off, and turn your back pointedly. The slope and curve of your ass taunts him. 

"Fuck off, Miguel."

"Baby, I'm sor-" 

"Fuck. Off."

Sighing, he takes the hint. Grabbing the pillow, he pads off to the sofa in your living room, adjusting his hard on. He'd give you your space, tonight, and begin to win you back tomorrow morning. He needs you, more than you'd ever know. 

_

_

_

[stevie-petey]

episode five: the flayed

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

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

Rating: general, some swearing

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

Words: 7.2k

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

-

Everyone is screaming as you all fall. 

You lost your stomach about a hundred feet ago. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Then, suddenly, everything stops. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He’s fucked up. 

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

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

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

You had been right the entire time. 

And yet no one bothered to believe you. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

The laughter is now gone. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

No one speaks for a while.

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

– 

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

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

Steve follows you; he always follows. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

You were supposed to listen to me.

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

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

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

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

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

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

It’s July third. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

– 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“How peachy.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Well where else am I supposed to go?”

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

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

They’re such idiots sometimes. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Listen.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

– 

It’s a goddamn long walk. 

You’re miserable. 

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

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

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

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

You love him endlessly for it. 

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

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

“Yeah, because poison is boring.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Like a nuclear weapon?”

“Totally.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“They could.”

“So it’s all connected?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Wherever that broadcast is coming from–”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Saw what?”

“The comms room.”

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

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

Dustin frowns. “Are you sure?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

You nod at him. “Good luck.”

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

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

And Steve has locked you in a room with him.

Everyone freezes, unsure what to do.

“Nice, Steve.” You sneer at him. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Hey now–”

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

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

“There’s something up there.”

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

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

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

It’s the gate. 

The Russians have found the gate into the Upside Down.

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

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

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

Nodding, the two of you are in agreement.

You have to stop this.

-

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[roguerambles]

A Moment of Respite

Blood of Zeus - Heron x Hera's!Daughter Reader

Warnings - 18+Only.

I've had this sitting in my drafts for ages and I want to get it out before I try any Season 2 stuff. Plus I just like the idea of these two, okay--

Kind of a Part 4 to Trouble.

Enjoy the Rambles!

-

Training was not going well.

You cringed as Heron flew across the arena, crashing into the sands with a pained groan. The automaton returned to its standing position dispassionately, and beside you Zeus sighed heavily.

It had been days since Mother had left Olympus, taking some of the other Gods of Olympus with her to the Underworld. Hades had apparently allowed them sanctuary, although he declared he would be taking no further involvement than that.

...your wrist ached as the memory of Mother’s hand grasping you, Hera and Zeus’s raised voices, Mother’s betrayed expression melting into a fury you had never had directed at you before flashed across your mind.

You had chosen to stay on Olympus, and Mother and Ares had left, others at their heels.

“Zeus.” Hephaestus spoke from behind you, his voice low and gruff. “This isn’t working.”

Zeus’s jaw clenched as Heron went hurtling across the arena once more, kicking up a dust cloud of sand as he crashed into the ground with a loud, painful sounding thump. “He needs to unlock his potential.” His large hands gripped the stonework of the balcony in front of him. “Soon.”

You were not much of a warrior, but you were fairly certain that if Hephaestus’s contraptions broke every bone in Heron’s body, that would be rather counterproductive to improving Heron’s combat efficiency.

As Zeus and Hephaestus continued to bicker in hushed voices, you felt a warm presence appear at your side. Apollo sighed as he leaned against the balcony, peering down into the training ground where Heron stumbled to his feet once more.

“He doesn’t give up, at least.”

“Is this really the best approach?” You nervously played with your hands as you watched Heron get up and be knocked down, over and over.

Apollo shrugged. “Athena is too busy preparing the defences, and Ares is with Hera. We don’t have a lot of options, training wise.”

You both continued to watch for a while, and you could feel your stomach sinking the longer it went on. Heron barely glanced your way.

You had not spoken since the night Mother had left, but the memory of Heron shocked expression as he looked at you – really looked at you – and the blind panic it had created in you made your stomach churn. You had fled to your room and would probably still be there if Hermes hadn’t forced you out.

“You should say hello.”

Your head snapped around to stare at Apollo, you was still looking out over the balcony. “I should what?”

“You should go over and talk to him.” Apollo replied casually, as though he were suggesting something completely normal. “The staring is getting a little old.”

“I am not—I am not staring.”

“Heron!” Apollo called out abruptly, loudly, and to your horror Heron actually looked up towards you. “Would you like some water? We have plenty over here—”

You turned to flee somewhere far, far away, only for Hermes – where in Tartarus did he come from – to appear, blocking your way with a small, but noticeable smile.

Traitor!

Zeus sounded displeased. “Interruptions are not—”

Apollo grabbed his father’s arm and began tugging him towards the stairs, so suddenly Zeus stumbled. “You are correct, Father, we should check the equipment on the other side of the arena—”

Zeus looked confused as Hermes joined Apollo in practically dragging the King down the stairs. Hephaestus rolled his eyes and stalked towards the automaton, muttering something about “those bloody sons of Zeus”. You were rooted to the stop as Heron slowly approached, his head low, as though he were struggling to meet your eye.

Your heart clenched as Heron busied himself gathering water, taking somewhat longer than was required for the task. The silence was so dense you felt it were almost choking you. You scrambled for something, anything, to say, but your mind was a void of disjointed words. I’m sorry. I wanted to tell you. I couldn’t tell you. Please don’t be angry. I’m sorry for Electra, I’m so—

“…you’re short.”

You were yanked from your frazzled thoughts when Heron finally said something. You looked at him in confusion, while Heron cringed, looking frustrated with himself. “I…pardon?”

“I just mean….” Heron rubbed the back of his neck, looking anywhere but directly at you. “You…the others are….you look different. Not bad, you’re beautiful, I just mean—”

“Oh. Oh! Right, yes, well, I wasn’t born like the rest of them. Mother—she made me out of clay.” Heron lifted his head to stare at you blankly. You felt your cheeks burn. “It is…unusual, I know.”

“…I’m sorry, was that rude—”

“No, no, not at all, you should hear how Apollo and Artemis were born—”

Silence fell over you again as you both fumbled over your words. You were torn between fleeing the arena altogether and staying exactly where you were because awkward or not you and Heron were talking. Over his shoulder you could see Zeus and Hephaestus by the automaton, and knew Heron would be pulled away soon. You inhaled deeply, steeling your nerves. I am the Queen of the Heavens daughter, by the Fates, act like it. “Heron….I am so sorry. About…about your mother.”

Heron looked pained, his fingers clenching around the waterskin in his hand. “…it was Hera, wasn’t it?”

It wasn’t a question, and you both knew it. You bowed your head, yours eyes beginning to sting. Do not cry. This isn’t about you.

“…yes.” You forced out, your throat feeling thick. “Heron…Heron, I know it’s not enough, but I’m sorry—”

“Why?” Heron cleared his throat, tossing the waterskin down. “It’s not your fault. You weren’t even there.”

“But….” You bit your lip. “Mother…I mean… Hera is—”

“Your mother, I know.” Heron wasn’t quite looking at you again, but he didn’t sound angry. Grief clung to his voice, and you fought the impulse to reach for his hand. “And Zeus is my…father. That alone made mother and I targets for Hera’s wrath. You had nothing to do with it.”

“Heron—”

Heron started to laugh.

You faltered, and watched as Heron hurriedly clamped a hand over his mouth, eyes wide as though startled by his own reaction. “I…I am sorry.” He choked out, eyes wide even as you caught glimpse of a mirthful smile behind his fingers. “Please…please continue…”

Your anxiety was briefly overpowered by confusion. “What…what is so amusing…?”

Heron’s shoulders began to shake. “I…I assumed your parents would disapprove of me.” He said, and the words seemed to break something in him. He doubled over, grasping his knees, eyes squeezing shut as he began to laugh even harder. “Now…now it turns out your mother is Hera. And…and I am the bastard son of her philandering husband….!”

You stared owlishly at him as his laugh grew louder – you could see Zeus and Hephaestus watching from the side-lines, their expressions suggesting concern that the automaton had hit Heron harder than they had feared.

“That’s…well yes, that is….Heron….Heron, it’s not funny!”

Heron tried to reply, but it came out as a wheeze. “I…gods…I had no idea…!”

You could feel a smile beginning to creep onto your face and tried to squash it, but Heron’s laughter was infectious, and was the most happy you’d seen him in…well, a while. “Well…no, I suppose…I suppose you are not what my mother would consider an ideal suitor…”

That brought on another wave of near hysterical laughter, and you found yourself giggling along with Heron, until you were both cackling like lunatics in the middle of the arena. You slumped against Heron’s shoulder, clamping a hand over your mouth as you saw Zeus heading towards you both.

“…if you are both finished?” He asked dryly, his eyebrows raised. Heron’s laughter stuttered to a stop, but he didn’t move away from you, the feeling of his body against yours leaving warmth against your skin.

You reluctantly straightened up, brushing away non-existent creases in your dress. “I suppose….” You gestured wordless at the arena. Zeus eyed you cautiously, before clearing his throat and turning back towards the automaton, as though he were examining it. Heron rolled his eyes slightly as you bit down a chuckle – you supposed he was trying to give you both a moment.

“Wish me luck.” Heron gripped his sword, his free hand rising to sheepishly rub his neck. “I think I’ll need a fair share of it…”

You laughed slightly, reaching out to gently pat his arm. He smiled in response, before sighing and trudging after Zeus.

“I think that went well.” Hermes said cheerfully from behind you. You nearly jumped out of your skin. “Don’t you think that went well, Apollo?”

“Indeed!” The Sun God chirped, appearing at your side. “See? All is well that ends well.”

“You two do remember…” Artemis sighed from somewhere behind you – when did she get here? – “…the approaching civil war, yes?”

“Small victories, dearest sister.”

You flushed and turned to stride back towards the stands, while Hermes and Apollo snickered to themselves. Artemis rolled her eyes as you sat beside her, although a small, teasing smile began to tug at her mouth. “Although….I did notice he didn’t deny it when you described him as a suitor.”

“Artemis!”

You blushed furiously as the Goddess of the Hunt laughed, and your stubbornly kept your gaze ahead, focusing on Heron on the sands below, feeling just a little bit lighter than before.

[jenosbigtoe]

brother’s best friend!lee jeno x reader

minors dni

summary: your overprotective big brother's best friend is just too irresistible. too bad you have to keep your relationship a secret from him. established relationship au!

warnings: jeno is a freak lowkey, creampie, breeding kink, possessiveness, unprotected sex, size kink (if you squint), mating press, jeno fat cock, jeno is a simp, squirting, pussy eating, literally just pwp

wordcount: 2.4k

a/n: intentional lowercase (i hate autocaps) and not proofread so if you see any grammar mistakes lmk. IK THIS IS A WORN OUT TROPE BUT IDC BROTHERS BEST FRIEND JENO FTW this is just so self indulgent so if its ass um ☠️

pretty pink lip gloss, fresh set of french tip acrylics, short white mini skirt, strawberry scented lotion, and a pink lacy camisole. you, na y/n, were going to be the death of lee jeno.

"dude stop looking at my little sister like that you freak," jaemin threw a dirty sock laying around at his best friend's face as jeno stared at your plump ass like a piece of meat while you were in the kitchen making yourself a snack.

"shut the fuck up man," jeno grumbled as he proceeded to knock jaemin off course in moo moo meadows in mario kart.

you smirked knowingly with your back turned. you knew exactly what you were doing. it was 10 pm on a friday night, meaning jeno and jaemin were having their weekly guys night and would crash in the living room, playing video games, drinking beer, and eating pizza.

and it also meant you would get to dangle yourself like a piece of meat in front of your boyfriend and oblivious brother as you watch your hungry boyfriend try to behave himself.

"jaem let me have a turn," you whined, inviting yourself into the living room, and sat between the two boys on the verge of beating the shit out of each other over mario kart.

"y/n you know damn well you're shit at these types of games now why would i let you play when im about to rock jeno's shit," jaemin didn't even look over at you and continued to focus on the screen. "FUCKKKK JENO THOSE GODDAMN SHELLS. FUCK YOU DICKFACE”

jeno on the other hand glanced over at you, eyes never looking once at yours and instead focused straight on your plump titties popping right out of your push up bra. and he drove right off course, leaving jaemin to yelp in victory as he finished in 1st place.

"fuck you jaemin. here y/n you can play on my controller," jeno rolled his eyes and passed his controller to you. his character was already pink yoshi, making your heart melt because he knew that was your go to.

“thank you, jeno. at least some people are actually nice and considerate,” you rolled your eyes at your older brother.

"well okay you asked for it. prepare to get your ass kicked like our dear jen over there, y/n," jaemin said with an evil glint in his eyes.

as the game was about to start, you suddenly had an idea and paused the game. "wait jaem, i don't really know how to play. can you go easy on me?"

"hell no. you wanted to play with the big boys so now you gotta face the consequences."

you turned to look at jeno, who was very obviously just staring at your tits the entire time. "jeno, jaemin is being a bitch to me. can you teach me how to play since he doesn't want to go easy on me?" you tilted your head and pouted your lip in a way that you knew he liked.

you knew damn well how to play and beat the shit out of jaemin at mario kart but you also knew how good you looked right now and how this would be the perfect opportunity to tease your sexy boyfriend.

"aw hell no that's cheating, y/n," jaemin whined.

“too bad. it ain’t up to you, sore loser.” you gave jeno a smirk with a knowing look in your eyes.

"well i don't mind. plus you won the last round anyways, jaem," jeno spoke up, shifting around and subtlely fixing his sweatpants. you were teasing him so bad and it was going straight to his cock.

jaemin looked at jeno, then you, then right back at jeno, narrowing his eyes a bit. "hey since when did you two get so chummy?"

"jaemin stop being a bitch and let's just play. i don't even know how to play and jeno helping me isn't going to suddenly make me become a mario kart god."

jaemin rolled his eyes. "whatever man."

jaemin unpaused the game and the race started. you pretended to freak out, not knowing where to go as jaemin left you in the dust.

jaemin started laughing his ass off as he quickly climbed the ranks as you were left in dead last. "kiss my ass, y/n."

jeno leaned over to show you the controls but you took this opportunity to yank him to sit behind you, causing you almost be sitting in his lap as his arms wrapped you. "now show me the controls," you grinned evilly and shifted around so your ass rubbed against his dick.

jeno was stunned. doing this literally right in front of your brother? who forbade you two from ever seeing each other? he could just smell your sweet strawberry perfume, which had him wanting to just gobble you up. and your cute little outfit, god he just wanted to rip it right off of you and mark your body up, claim you as his. and not gonna lie, the thrill of being right next to your brother and his best friend had his heart pumping blood straight to his boner.

you both were lucky jaemin had tunnel vision when it came to video games, his face literally glued to the screen. otherwise he would've seen how your little white skirt rode up your thighs and your panties were literally grinding against his best friend's cock.

you let jeno take the controller and pretended to still be the one playing, occasionally screaming out curses at your brother and let out cheers when you hit him with shells. meanwhile you were really just shifting around on jeno's cock through his sweat pants as you ran your manicured nails up and down his veiny arms that were wrapped around you. his hands just looked so big and meaty on that controller, had you fantasizing about what they would be doing to you tonight.

as you neared the final lap, you in 6th place and jaemin in 2nd, you suddenly grabbed the controller out of jeno's hands and shoved him back beside you. he let out a loud grunt as he fell to the ground. jaemin suddenly took 1st place and finished the round. you were 8th. you gave jeno a fake apologetic look as he glared at you.

“oops,” you whispered, sticking your tongue out.

jaemin looked over at you and gave you a triumphant look. "now what did i tell you?"

you rolled your eyes and stood, your skirt rode up almost all the way and on the verge of exposing the little cream panties with red hearts on them that you knew jeno loved. the way jeno was sitting, you standing up gave him the perfect view of the way your puffy pussy fit in your little panties, making him even harder than before.

"whatever loser i'm heading back to my room. have fun being bitchless on a friday night." jaemin threw a pillow at your turned back. you sauntered back to your room, making careful sure to sway your hips as you knew jeno's eyes were trained straight on your ass.

it was 1 am and you were still up, bored out of your mind and scrolling through your phone. he should've been here by now, you pouted. you got frustrated and started ripping your clothes off, leaving you in just your push-up bra and panties when a voice from behind startled you.

"baby, you already starting without me? i'm hurt," jeno wrapped his arms around you, pressing his body against yours, and whispered softly in your ear, causing you to shiver.

you puffed out your cheeks. "waited for so long. was about to go to sleep because my shithead boyfriend left me needy over here."

jeno started groping at your body, squeezing your juicy tits and lightly grinding his erection against your barely clothed ass. "sorry sweet girl. jaem wouldn't fall asleep because that girl from his econ class finally texted him back, corny ass." he left a trail of kisses down your neck and sucked at a particular spot on your collar bone that had your knees weak.

you smiled to yourself. you couldn't pretend to be mad at him for long, not when you're so whipped for him. you turned around and looked up at him, admiring your sexy boyfriend. he finally listened to you and dyed his hair back to black, leaving it long and messy just how you like it. he was wearing a black compression shirt and grey sweatpants with the simple gold chain you bought him for his birthday. he knew just how you like it. what a fucking manwhore. you were ready to devour him whole.

you smashed your lips on his, messy and hot, tongue everywhere and spit dripping down your connected mouths. suddenly, you pushed him down on your bed and started straddling him, grinding your pussy directly on his cock through his sweatpants, causing him to groan into your mouth. one hand gripped at your hair and the other groped your ass.

"baby i need you. i missed you so much," you whispered, looking into his eyes.

he connected his lips to yours with a renewed fervor. clothes started flying off as you kissed each other passionately. he reached for a condom in your nightstand but you stopped him.

"raw baby. i need you in me right now." you grinned at him.

he cursed, flipped you over on your back and used his weight to press you against the mattress. his thick, muscular body pressing you to the mattress had you breathless and in need for more. "is my baby needy? is my baby needy for this cock?"

he reached down and began to lightly caress your pussy, gathering your leaking juices and spreading it around. his fingers teased your hole, rubbing circles around it and occasionally deciding to stick one in for one pump before going back to rubbing and teasing.

"had me thinking about this pussy all night. fuck. love you so much baby. you're so sexy and you get me so hard. no one does it for me like you. you looked so cute today, just wanted to eat you up. didn't care if that shithead was there, just wanted to love on my girl." he continued to tease your little pussy and alternate between fingering and rubbing you.

then he crawled down until he was facing your wet pussy directly. staring at your pussy like a piece of meat in front of starved lion, he gave one long lick all the way up your cunt and started sucking, making sure to make lewd noises. your legs were shaking with need as you gripped his hair.

"fuck you taste so good. all wet just for me. this pussy is mine," he groaned into your cunt.

at this point, your pussy was gushing so much you felt a puddle beneath you. his fingers and lips felt so so good on your pussy but you were tired of his teasing. you got up and suddenly looked down at him seriously. "jen if your cock isn't in me in the next 5 seconds i'm seriously going to break up with you and fuck haechan or something."

this lit a fire within jeno, whose eyes darkened. he lifted his body and gave his impossibly hard cock a few pumps, rubbing your juices all over his massive cock. he grabbed your thighs, lifted your legs over his shoulders, and shoved his cock into your little pussy with one big thrust.

you both moaned out, your pussy leaking happily as he bottomed out, balls deep. he set out on a fast past immediately, pounding your pussy deeper and harder with each thrust. you could feel his heavy balls slap against your ass.

"yes, jen yes yes yes! oh god more more! love you so much baby," you grabbed at his hair as he pounded your pussy into oblivion. in the deep mating press he had you in, you could feel the tip of his cock kissing your cervix with each thrust. his cock was just so so big, you could never get enough of it.

you could see the veins pop out of his neck and his beefy arms were pinning your hips down as his hips were pounding you with each powerful thrust. he looked so so so sexy and he was all yours.

"god baby your pussy was made for me. love you so so much. mine. all mine. everything about you all mine, just for me," jeno kissed you passionately, both moaning into each other mouths.

he used one of his hands to press down on your lower belly, making your pussy leak and throb around him. "you feel that, princess? you feel me deep in your tummy? only i can do that to you, only me."

your mind was blank at this point, body completely numb to everything except the pleasure he was giving you. you could feel yourself about to get sent over the edge, your pussy spasming and clenching hard around every vein on his cock.

"bout to cum baby don't stop don't stop!!" you orgasmed with a loud scream, pussy squirting all over his stomach.

jeno continued fucking you through your orgasm, grunting at the feeling of your little pussy spasming all over his cock. "baby m close too, fuckkk."

fat tears rolled down your face at the overstimulation of pleasure. "jen please cum inside please."

jeno groaned, thrusting every harder and deeper than before. "such a slut. you like that huh? you want your boyfriend to knock you up? you want to have a baby with your brother's best friend? fuck. how about you just get pregnant? he wouldn't be able to disapprove of us when you're already round and waddling around with my baby."

with one loud groan, he bottomed out inside of you and let out his thick load. he collapsed on top of you, cock still balls deep inside, crushing you under all his weight with your face pressed against his sweaty chest.

you stayed like that for a few seconds before you tapped on his back, signaling that you couldn't breathe. still keeping his cock deep inside your leaking pussy, he flipped you over on your side and cuddled your back, wrapping one arm around your waist and the other pushing your hair out of your face. you panted, eyes closed in bliss. jeno drew circles on your arms and left kisses up and down your jaw and neck.

"just saying, you would look sexy as fuck pregnant with our baby." jeno whispered.

you opened your eyes to turn back and swat at his chest but what you saw made your blood run cold in horror.

it was your brother standing right in the open doorway staring at your naked bodies with a look of fury, surprise, horror, and shock that you had never seen before.

the three of you screamed at the sight of each other in unison.

a/n: i intentionally wrote the ending like that because i'm unsure if anyone would even want to continue reading this lmaooo so lmk what you think

[4ln-stay8]

Secrets and shadows

>summary: Lando denies your relationship in order to keep it private but that took a toll on you

>author’s notes: i hope this isn’t too bad… im trying tbh… this is probably bad but anyway… enjoy

>warnings: lying, insecurity, anxiety, crying, teasing, denying, doubt

The evening sun painted Lando's gaming setup with a warm glow as he fired up his Twitch stream. Lando adjusted his headset with a grin, ready to dive into another streaming session with Max and Bankai on his Discord server.

"Alright chat, we're live! What's up, everyone? It's been a while." said Lando starting his stream "Today, Max and Bankai will join us for some gaming, is that okay chat?" He continued

The fans in the chat exploded with excitement as Lando hadn't streamed in a while.

"Chat say hi to the boys!" said Lando with excitement as his friends entered his discord server

"Hey guys, hey chat! Ready for some gaming, Lando?" said Max excited to join his friends.

"Im ready to beat you Max, thats for sure!" said Lando confident in his ability

Lando was reading the chat trying to keep up with his fans when he noticed that something was off. The chat was full of questions about someone passing by in the background.

"Calm down chat, jeez! She's just a friend crashing at my place for a while. Now let's get back to the game so we can beat Max." Lando said chuckling trying to calm them down.

"I'm counting on it. And who knows, maybe your 'friend' in the background will bring you some luck." said Bankai while Lando was reading the chat.

"Not you too man. I've just calmed chat down, don't make them start again. She is just a friend" said Lando trying to hold chat into place

"Yeah, right guys. 'Just a friend." said Max chuckling

"Seriously guys stop it. She is just a friend, nothing more. She is not even my type anyway, plus she is also a friend of Flo so she can confirm my point." said Lando frustrated with the teasing

In the other room, you were watching Lando's stream. You couldn't help but smile as you listened to his voice and watched him play, feeling warmth in your heart. But when you heard him deny your relationship, your heart sank, and a heavy pain formed in your chest.

Insecurity washed over you. You've always known that being with someone as famous and adored as Lando would come with its challenges. But hearing him say you were just a friend made you question if you were truly good enough for him.

He not only denied your relationship but he also denied you. "She is not even my type".... Those words kept playing over and over again in your mind. You didn't expect him to tell everyone about you but you also didn't expect him to deny you like that.

It hurt you more than you wanted to. That mean voice in your mind getting louder and louder and louder with every second passing.

You felt like you interpreted everything wrong. Maybe you weren't in a relationship, maybe it was something else, but yet if you wouldn't have been in a relationship you wouldn't have told each other 'I love you' as much as you did.

You were questioning everything. You knew it was wrong. You took into consideration that you could've been overreacting right now but your insecurities were louder than your rationality.

You changed yourself into some of your clothes, leaving Lando's clothes, that were previously on you, on the bed. You picked up your phone and walked to the living room.

Once you got there, you grabbed a blanket and you opened the door to the balcony and stepped outside. You needed some fresh air and some quiet to try and calm your mind down.

You put the blanket around you and you set in the chair that was placed there. You set there crying quietly. You didn't want to cry but you just couldn't stop.

As as Lando and the boys started another round in the game, the banter continued.

"Focus on the game, guys. Stop trying to stir up drama." said Lando annoyed with his friends

"Drama? Nah, just trying to figure out when you'll finally introduce us to this mysterious 'friend.'" said Bankai teasing him

"Seriously, Lando, you've got some explaining to do. The chat is blowing up with theories." Max warned Lando as he saw the chat going wild once again

"Theories? It's just a friend, I promise. No hidden agenda." said Lando rolling his eyes, trying to concentrate on the game.

The teasing continued throughout the stream, with Lando playing along, trying to keep the focus on the game.

"Alright, enough about my 'friend.' Let's get back to the action, yeah?" said the curly haired brit while his friends kept laughing

"Fine, fine. But you owe us some answers, mate. We won't forget this." said Bankai before focusing back on the game

As the stream ended, the playful banter echoed in the virtual space, leaving Lando with a smile as he signed off, leaving the mystery of his "friend" hanging in the air, much to the amusement of Max and Bankai.

He was happy he managed to get through the stream without spilling something out, but what he didn't know was the effect his words had on you.

He went to find you, wanting to enjoy some time together before calling it a day, but to his surprise he didn't find you.He saw his clothes on the bed, the ones that were on you earlier and he didn't understand why they were there.

He called your name but no one answered. He looked for you all over the apartment but you weren't anywhere to be found. He sent you texts, still no answer. He called your phone a hundred times but he was still unlucky. He started to get worried but then he noticed the blurry figure of his beloved girlfriend and he walked to the balcony confused.

On the dimly lighted balcony, Lando sat down beside you, his curiosity evident. "Hey, I've been looking for you everywhere, I even called you, why didn't you answer?" He asked concerned

"I didn't heard the phone sorry" you said, your words barely above a whisper

"What's going on? You seem off," he asked, his eyes filled with genuine concern.

You hesitated for a moment, then looked up at him with a forced smile. "Just tired, I guess. It was a long day." You replied, avoiding eye contact.

Lando sensed something was amiss. "Come on, you can tell me anything. What's going on baby?" he reassured you, placing a gentle hand on her shoulder.

Taking a deep breath, you finally found the courage and opened up. "I... I heard what you said on the stream about me. It just made me wonder if you really meant it" you admitted, vulnerability present in your voice.

Lando's expression softened as he realized the impact of his words. "Y/n baby, you know it's not like that. You mean more to me than anyone else. I just didn't want people prying into our private lives," he explained sincerely.

You nodded, a mixture of relief and lingering insecurity in your eyes. "I get it, but sometimes it's hard to hear those things, even if I know they're not true. I couldn't stop my mind from thinking it's true" you confessed, tears falling down your face

Lando pulled you into a comforting embrace. "I'm sorry if it hurt you. I'll make it up to you, alright? I don't want you doubting how important you are to me, ever! Trust me my love, you are everything I've ever wanted and more! I love you more than anything so please stop doubting yourself and your place in my life!" he promised, planting a soft kiss on her forehead.

As you sat there, the weight lifted off your shoulders. Lando understood the importance of his words and remembered that people can interpretate them differently.

You sat there, looking at the stars, holding each other close. You managed to calm yourself down and let your rationality take over. You looked up to look at Lando's face. As if he got a cue, he looked down at you with wonder in his eyes.

"I love you! And I'm sorry I overreacted" you said quietly avoiding his eyes

"I love you too baby! And I'm sorry for what I said" he whispered leaning in to kiss you.

You sat there, on the cold balcony for a little longer. You fell asleep due to the exhaustion caused by all the crying. Lando noticed and picked you up carrying you to the bedroom. He placed you down on the bed before joining you.

"I love you more than anything my love, never forget that" he whispered kissing your forehead before he pulled you closer falling asleep in your arms.

[zapernz]

THE SUCKING HIM OFF WHILE STRESSED OH EM GEEE

“G-god I’m close please!” He would cry out while the reader is just cursing under her breath thinking of what happened basically blocking him oit

warnings; degradation (?), bj

anakin is waiting in his quarters, he got back from a hellish mission a couple nights ago, when he opened the door he was usually greeted by your worried and loving expression, ready to coddle and shower him in affection, as well as cleaning up all the cuts and bruises he would have sustained, but not this time, you were sent on a mission of your own, and would be back a few days later than him.

he grumbled something under his breath as he slowly gets himself up from the bed, wincing slightly at the pain in his body, he sets off to his desk, tinkering with something new he’s trying, to keep his mind and hands busy.

you step off the ship, as your old master windu follows behind, your eyebrows furrow as you focus on storming into the council to tell them how terrible this mission went. your old master catches up to you, placing a hand on your shoulder, halting your movement. “look i know this mission didn’t go how we wanted it too” he begins.

“yeah tell me that again” you huff, sarcastically. he squeezes your shoulder, understanding your emotions, “how about you go, i’ll deal with the council, okay?” he offers with a smile.

you sigh, “that would be great, master, thank you” you smile and nod to each other as you part ways. once out of sight you storm your way to your quarters.

you barge into your room, slamming the door behind you, anakin is alarmed by the abrupt and bizarre entrance, he stands up from the desk quickly, “baby are you-“ he gets rudely cut off, “stay right fucking there and shut up anakin”

he’s startled but does as you say, watching you storm towards him, your eyes darken with lust as you watch the man before you stand completely still in shock at your actions, he’s done this with you before when he’s come back after a complete shit show, but you doing it? definitely a new thing, and he was definitely into it.

he bites his lip as he comes face to face with you, your lips crash into his, its a mess of teeth, tongues and spit. you pull back, turning his head to the side so you can start your attack on his neck. he helps himself stand, resting his hand on his desk as you bite and suck into his sweet spot, making him let out a sigh.

“you gonna let me do what i want to you?” you mumble into his neck, your breath on his skin makes him shiver in anticipation. “uhuh” he confirms, licking his lips. you press a soft kiss into his shoulder and confirmation, then sinking to your knees, pulling down his sweatpants and boxers in one swift motion.

you smirk to yourself seeing how hard he got over practically nothing. spitting into your hand you slowly wrap your hand around the base as you slowly start to jerk him off. your lips find their way to his hips to continue your markings, slowly sucking and biting at the skin.

anakin grips onto the desk as shaky moans leave his lips, he squeezes his eyes shut when you start teasing the tip with your tongue, before practically deepthroating him in one foul swoop.

“fuck! fuck oh god” he whines as you bob your head back and forth. no matter how many times you suck him off he will never get over the feeling of your mouth, nothing compares to it, (apart from being inside you that is) pulling back you start to swirl your tongue around the head before redoing your previous motions.

he honest to god thinks he’s seeing stars, your tongue and mouth is heavenly. “fuck im gonna cum, please, please!” he lets out through moans. “mhm” you hum around his dick, sending the vibrations right through him. with one final swipe of your tongue on his sensitive head he’s cumming, exploding into your mouth, letting out pornographic moans.

you swallow, letting him catch his breath and getting off of your knees, kissing him properly this time.

“well welcome home to you too” he laughs.

[deadhands69]

Something More [than a panic attack]

Katsuki Bakugo x gn afab reader

MDNI

Setting: mid-time skip, Senior Year of College. Reader did not attend UA high, just joined for university. Enemies to lovers (with a lot in between.)

Warnings, content, etc: descriptions of a panic attack, sex (hand stuff, standing, rough), slight angst, swearing.

part 1  -  part 2  -  part 3  -  part 4  -  this is part 5  -  part 6 - part 7 - part 8

As you run up the stairs to your dorm, your legs are shaking beneath you. All of your surroundings feel like they're caving in and you can't breathe. With everyone passed out early, the common room is eerily quiet and it’s making the ringing in your ears unbearably loud. Even the silence is judging you.

Why him? Why can't you just spend time with someone nice who buys you flowers and takes you on dates?

Your phone vibrates. Shaky hands pull the device from your pocket. The screen looks miles away. Through your tunnel vision you make out: one message from Bakugo. 

Why is he texting you right now?

Bakugo [You just ran out and left your stuff, you okay?] 

Shit. Yeah, you did do that. He’s obviously smart enough to know something is wrong, why is he even asking? Is he giving you an out? You'll probably have to deal with him in the future, you play along.

You [nothing’s wrong, srry just forgot about something]  Bakugo [Oh.]  Bakugo [Are you coming back for your backpack tonight?] 

Of course you're not going back, you just ran away. 

But you could, another smaller voice chips in from the back of your mind. 

Not just to retrieve your belongings. 

You could go back and…

He's hot and he's probably good in bed. On the other hand, he's an asshole. It's not like you're trying to date him so why would that matter? Just once. It's getting so hard to pretend you don't want to go back to his room. You want to. Nothing is wrong, it's okay to want things. Nothing is wrong. This is fine. Your chest opens up and you can breathe again; the world expands back to its usual size. 

This is so stupid. 

It's an awful terrible shitshow of an idea.

Right?

…

Fuck it.

Sprinting back down the stairs and through the hallway, you nearly crash into his door before flinging it open and jumping on him. His brows furrow in confusion for a fraction of second but he let's it go as soon as your lips reach his. He drops your sweater that he’d been folding, arms engulfing you as he kicks the door shut.

“You’re so weird,” he mumbles while yanking your shirt over your head. His mouth clashing with yours again, tongues tangling together. He grasps you firmly, pawing at your chest. 

You’re done pretending you don’t want this.

Pulling his tank top off, you take every touch you’ve wanted. Running your hands over his abs, gripping him closer as he slides your pants off your hips and works them to the ground.

His fingers press hard against your underwear, finding the wet spot he made in the minutes you’ve been making out (okay, let’s be honest - this started when he was touching your back on his bed earlier but he doesn’t need to know that.) He grins and you know it’s exactly what he was hoping to find.

“Why’d you run away if you wanted me so bad?” he teases, kissing you deeply before you can answer.

You pull back to catch your breath and the two of you feverishly tug the rest of each other’s clothes off.

In an instant, his hand grinds between your legs again. This time letting his middle finger slide into you. You gasp at his sudden touch, gripping him harder. Your hands move to wrap around his cock, stroking him while he dips another finger in.

Looking down at his massive length, have a fleeting thought, wondering how his fingers will be enough to prep you. The concern is short-lived.

At this point, he’s scissoring his ring and middle finger into you, while his palm firmly presses into your clit. You feel the heat rising as he moves in and out of you with more ease. With a loud moan, your head falls forward into his chest and you feel yourself gushing onto his fist. 

Catching your breath, he pulls away momentarily. After reaching into a drawer in his nightstand, he returns with a condom. Using his teeth, he rips it open. Sliding it on with one hand before pumping his cum-covered hand over it for extra lube.

How does he make that look so hot?

You don’t have time to think about it. As soon as he’s ready, you find yourself spun around with him sliding in from behind you. The stretch doesn’t hurt as bad as you’d expected, just a light sting as he begins pressing deeper into you. His hands come to your hips, gripping hard and pulling you back to bounce off of him. 

He steadily increases the pace and before you know it you're chasing your orgasm again. You clutch the edge of the desk you're pressed against, knees shaking beneath you. The heat between your legs expands and your whole body releases. Falling forward, his fingers wrap into your hair, pulling you back up to him. 

“You like that, huh,” he groans in your ear but you can't find the words to respond. Your mouth moves to speak but all you can do is whimper while he holds you in place. His thrusts, unyielding. 

He half laughs then you feel his teeth on the back of your shoulder, adding to the overwhelming sensations. He's panting harder now, his hips slamming even faster into you. At this point, you're screaming but you really can't be bothered to care. His neighbors are probably used to it. 

Tightening his hold on you, he breathes hard into your shoulder. The condom fills as he pulses inside of you. 

“Fuck,” you mumble. Lightheaded and exhausted. You lean forward to stand on your own but your legs won't hold you. He laughs and teases you for how fucked out you are (his fault!!!), but still keeps you in his arms while the blood returns to your head. After a minute, you stagger slightly while retrieving your clothes from his floor. 

It's quiet. While getting dressed, you feel like you should say something but no words come to mind. 

Finally, he breaks the awkward silence. 

“I'll upload the project,” he says while pulling his own clothes back on. 

“Thanks,” you mumble, “have a nice night.”

You don't really know how you're supposed to say goodbye after this, fortunately he makes that decision for you. Giving you a quick hug, he pulls back and brings his face to your level. Briefly looking you over, he grabs his t-shirt from the bed to wipe the remaining tears and drool from your face before you head back to your dorm. 

No wonder girls try to go back to him. 

part 6 here m.list

Taglist: @anonymity-222 @k1tk4tkatsuki @arsonfrogger

[bindeds]

⊹・° ｡ㅤ BOYFRIEND VOX / LUCIFER / ALASTOR X FEM READER HEADCANONS ! — now i know alastor is aroace so i am once again making a post that acknowledges that as much as possible, meaning his headcanons can also be seen as platonic and his nsfw section doesn’t involve him engaging in the act of sex. i also made an aroace friendly headcanons post on alastor if you wanna check that out!

contains nsfw (+18) and it will be in a separate section <3 please credit me if you use these gifs!

mlist. request status.

VOX.

this man pampers the SHIT out of you and you cannot tell me otherwise. if you’re out walking in the streets of hell and you so much as look at a branded purse for a second longer than usual, it’s in your hands within the next five seconds. same goes for literally anything—clothes, shoes, sunglasses, books, anything you could want that isn’t a gadget, because he already gives you his latest models—only the finest for his girl.

he teleports to your phone screen whenever you ignore him, and you don’t tell him that you find it particularly endearing. the way he’s just so whiny for your attention that he’d act all petty and crash all your apps so you’re forced to look him in the face.

has the most funniest fucking pet names for you i just KNOW IT HAHA like think shrek’s prince charming. i just know that when you call him from a different room he’d definitely say shit like “just a second honey kisses!” like HAHAH I CAN’T GET THIS OUT OF MY HEAD

DEFINITELY loves having you sit on his lap while he works. i just know this man is a thigh grabber.

he loves when you dress in sweater vests, preferably in brighter colors but it’s cute when you use more muted colors as well.

relating back to my first point, this man loves taking you to extravagant AND I MEAN extravagant dates. i imagine one of them would be getting the both of you a literal floating table in the red skies of hell so you can see the entire pentagram from where you dine. he would have the food freshly delivered from the finest chefs he knows but he also seems like the type who would forget your favorite food, then demand that the food switched out with a snap of his fingers.

i’m judging this purely off of ‘stayed gone’ but he has a TON of terrible jokes up his sleeves, and they border on dad jokes at this point. you simply roll your eyes and kiss him for being so silly.

i just know this man comes home to you and WHINES. like, no matter what it is, he’ll always have something to complain about from work and you’re happy to listen to him bitch and moan about the smallest things ever. he also lays down on your lap and you to rub his shoulders and console him, whatever it is. you know he appreciates it because he usually always responds with something along the lines of “you’re right, baby, i do push myself too hard!” and you coo at him while continuing to console him further.

VOX NSFW !

i know he definitely gets irritated when someone interrupts his work but would be so into having sex on the job, and even loves ignoring calls from the vees for you. but of course doing it one too many times has its consequences, and he laughs nervously the one time he backs out. i can just imagine him going, “oh, haha, uh—sorry baby, i uh—listen i know we usually—it’s—FUCK um—just—just five minutes okay baby?”

i know this man’s hickeys feel like tiny zaps on your skin, and the marks reflect that instead of bruises

regarding the ‘sitting on his lap’ thing … you tried riding his thigh once and he DID NOT like that. seconds after you were sitting on his cock, crying his name from how he was just pumping into you mercilessly.

“still wanna tease me on my own fucking thigh, sweetie?” he clicks his tongue and grunts right after, his hands on your waist was enough to leave bruises.

that being said, he makes sure valentino never catches sight of you. the things you do to this man is beyond anything he could have thought and somehow, he feels uneasy at the fact that the way you have sex with him was DEFINITELY porn worthy and the thought of you being on camera in that way makes him want to wrap all of himself around you like a blanket to cover you from all of hell.

LUCIFER.

ironically, this man does NOT give you the world. instead, he gives you casual nights out turned into nights where you share all your secrets with him, and he tells you everything might not be okay now, or ever, but whatever it is, he’ll be right there with you. think going to your favorite diners, cruising and carpooling along the quieter side of hell, screaming at the top of your lungs. this man is all about authenticity. he wants the bond, not the experience.

that doesn’t mean he doesn’t spoil you every now and then—he definitely does research on the best bars in the ring and takes you out every month during your monthsaries and gets you at least 10 different gifts—half of which are little trinkets you and him picked up from your little adventures together.

unironically so fucking good at picking out jewelry for you. you don’t know how he does it, but every time you both visit a jewelry store, you always pick out necklaces and rings and he always comes to you with pieces that just look way more stunning on you. he always insists on being the one to slip the rings onto your fingers or chain the necklaces at the back of your neck, and he always flies up to do it.

he sometimes visits you as a bird and flies through your window. you like stroking his little cheek and it always causes him to transform suddenly which catches you off guard, and he uses this opportunity to kiss you.

he makes rubber duckies modeled after you!! all of them have different outfits from all the times you spend together.

forehead touches. so important for him, he does it so often and it’s nothing short of endearing.

this man COOKS and he COOKS WELL. every now and then when you both stay home he always whips up five-star restaurant grade steak for you, same goes for his carbonara, fish and chips, ramen, fried rice, stew—whatever it is, he loves making it with his own two hands and loves cooking for you.

lucifer makes his own clothes seeing as his hat has a gold snake and an apple on it which only really related to him, and he also has a unique circus vibe to his clothing. he made his clothes out of magic but after meeting you he wanted to get into sewing to make you something from scratch.

LUCIFER NSFW !

i absolutely agree with a lot of lucifer stans on him being a definite switch BUT i just know that if this man tops, he tops HARD. i mean, we’re talking about the angel who successfully seduced not just the FIRST WOMAN to ever exist, but the SECOND TOO. WHILE SHE WAS LOYAL TO ADAM. I FEEL LIKE THAT SPEAKS FOR ITSELF

he’d definitely do a multitude of things while trying out a few kinks to see just what kind of top flusters you. if you like service tops, he found out when he insisted on fingering you right after he’d brought you to orgasm with his tongue. dominant top? he found out when he crawled on top of you and said, “take it off for me, lovely.” all while leaving a trail of hickeys all from your jaw all the way down to your collarbone. the list goes on.

no matter if he tops or bottoms, this man begs, and its especially orgasm-worthy when he does it as a bottom. you’re riding him to your own climax and he’s close too and he goes, “ohhh god fuck please let me cum honey—let me cum please fuck! can i cum can i cum my love? i won’t until you say so oh fuck please baby—”

he knows when you’re pent up. apparently you give of a certain set of cues through body language only he sees and he’s observed it from you in all sorts of situations; going out with friends, sitting in bed with a book, tapping a pencil to your lip—it doesn’t matter what you’re doing. he can tell. and he never tells you how.

seeing as he usually has to fly up to kiss you on the lips, he takes every opportunity he has in bed just to kiss you. he could be going so damn rough on you that the neighbors can hear and he’d still be making out with you so damn hard.

definitely prides himself on cunnilingus. i know everyone mentions this because of the v he made to his lips but it just makes sense for him to do that if he’s good at it! he becomes a grunting, begging, whimpering mess when you suck him off but when he eats you out? you compare it to how restaurants have a signature dish—lucifer’s is whatever miracles he can perform with his tongue.

ALASTOR.

i think this is obvious because he literally hosts possibly the most famous radio broadcast in the entire ring, but this man has a way with words.

“to put it simply my dear, i just never thought the stars could walk on dirty streets, let alone ones that belong in hell,” he sighs with an almost dreamy tone to it as he rested chin on his knuckles, leaning closer to you from the other side of the table with his elbow propped up on it. “but it seems you’re living proof of that.”

you took that as his way of explaining his aromanticism and asexuality to you, even if he isn’t fully aware of those terms yet.

“how did a lovely thing like you end up with a gruesome animal such as myself?”

nonetheless, you and him are partners and he owns it, even if he’ll never admit that it is daunting for someone who has never felt this way about anyone else before. someone who has never liked anyone romantically before. he owns it because he doesn’t want the one person he’s ever loved to slip from his grasp. not when he was just so used to getting what he wants using his own bare hands.

seeing as he is aroace, he doesn’t kiss you directly on the lips but hugs you all the time and maybe kisses cheek-to-cheek.

he listens to your gossip and even arranges dates for you both to properly get together and just dish. he gossips back sometimes too, but not too much as he feels like that would be like treating you like the other friends he has. he’d rather spend this time he has with you focusing on, well, you, not other people’s foolish mistakes. but he sees how excited you are to tell him these things sometimes so, he listens still.

regularly slow dances with you, especially to old romantic songs the both of you like. it’s one of the rare times physical contact doesn’t feel foreign to him as he’s danced with many women, and he actually finds it endearing when you press your head on his chest. it shows that you feel safe around him, and that’s the best thing that could happen for him when you’re dating one of the most feared and powerful overlords in hell.

always does house chores with you even though he could use his powers to just speed up the process. something about cleaning up together just feels so intimate to him compared to physical touch.

ALASTOR NSFW !

he hates being touched, no question about that—but he also doesn’t like to see you pent up. he understands that everyone has their own desires, however filthy they might be—but your own are as good as sacred. you’re the one thing he treasures beyond all others and just as you can’t change the fact that he’s aroace, he can’t change the fact that you have needs.

so he comes up with something just for you; he asks if it would help if he talked you through it. praising or degrading you, whichever you prefer. telling you how much he misses having your hands on his, feeling you close to him. when he says this, he imagines you both dancing as you usually do, but of course, as you masturbate, you’re thinking of something else. this happens when he’s not in the room but he leaves his mic behind to act as a phone for the both of you.

“are you close, love? will you finish for me?” “y-yes …” “good girl.”

i imagine after a while of being with him, he would have seen you naked a few times on accident but he brushes it off well because there’s never anything sexual tied to it. so, when he is in the room while you get off, he’d use his powers to have a glowing green chain around your neck as he pulls your face closer to his.

“do you like it when i do this to you, hm? tell me just how much you relish being my good girl.”

[desperate-gay]

Alex Morgan aftercare x

Sweet After Spice

Alex Morgan x fem!reader

a/n: do NOT like this but it’s something and i love my alex

As your third orgasm comes crashing over you, your body begins to jerk away from the small strokes of your girlfriend’s hips. Your mind feels foggy as a result of you getting completely railed into the mattress for what has felt like hours on end.

When Alex pulls out and removes the strap from her hips, she quickly pulls you into her chest, placing kisses on your head and rubbing her hand up and down your arm, making sure you’re okay. You simply just nuzzle further into her neck while trying to even out your breath. The brunette begins to shift out of your arms, planning to stand up but is stopped when you tighten your arms and let out a whine of protest.

“I’ll be back soon, love. Just wait a little bit for me, okay?” She whispers, placing one last kiss on your forehead as you hum in agreement.

You slowly start to drift off to sleep from being extremely worked out. Not even 10 minutes later, Alex shakes you softly while wiping the hair out of your face.

“C’mon, baby. You can’t fall asleep on me yet.” She chuckles when you let out a groan and turn your naked body the other way in an attempt to go back asleep which doesn’t work when you’re soon getting picked up bridal style by your very strong girlfriend.

You yelp in surprise and quickly latch onto her broad shoulders, making her look down at you with a chuckle. As she opens the bathroom door, a gasp escapes your lips while you look around the room.

“You did this?” You ask meekly, shying away from her gaze that’s set on you.

“Of course, aftercare is important and so are you. This is the bare minimum of what you deserve.”

She slowly sets you down on the toilet seat when she runs to go grab something she forgot. The light from the candles surrounding the tub illuminate across the dim bathroom while the fresh smell of bath salts overrides your senses. You have never been treated this way by any of your previous partners which is why you have also never loved anyone as much as Alex.

“Why don’t we get in before it gets cold?“

You jump at the sudden voice that has interrupted your thoughts. Your girlfriend stands there in a white robe and a tall glass of water for you while nodding her head for you to get in. Dipping your foot into the warm water helps your slightly shivering body heat up.

Once you have settled under the bubbles, Alex removes the fabric from her shoulders and sits behind you with her legs on each side of you and her arms wrapped around your midsection. The soft ripples of the water are the only thing that can be heard along with your breathing.

“I love you,” Alex whispers against your temple before kissing along your face, making you giggle while trying to pull away from the ticklish sensation.

“I love you more.” You say softly, craning your neck to look at her. Quickly, you lean in for a peck so she doesn’t deepen it, ultimately annoying her in the end.

You scoop up a pile of bubbles in your hand before turning around slightly and blowing it onto the forward’s face. Alex wipes them off her face with an unimpressed look, but you continue to giggle at her stoic facade. A smile slowly starts to creep its way onto her lips from hearing her favorite sound of your laughter.

Both of your eyes lock onto each other like nothing else is happening in the world. Like the world stops spinning and time stands still. Like there’s a room with a billion people and you immediately find each other. Like you’re staring at your soulmate. Like you’re looking at your one true love.

“Marry me,” Alex whispers so quietly you almost don’t hear it. Your smile widens as you turn your body slightly.

“What?”

“I want you to marry me, and I want to marry you. The box is in my kit bag and a bunch of the girls have helped me plan this extravagant date, but this has never felt so right.” She rants, looking up at the ceiling and then over at the sink, overall avoiding your gaze while your eyes follow hers the whole time.

“Yes.” You say with the brightest grin.

“Yes?” Her eyes finally meet yours again with a matching smile. When you nod your head, Alex immediately leans down and smashes her lips against yours in a passionate kiss.

“I’m going to be a Morgan.” You mumble against her soft lips in disbelief.

“And that you are.” The brunette’s arms tighten around your waist as she presses her face into your neck while pecking little kisses onto your skin.

After you both wash up and clean off your bodies, your girlfriend opens up the heated robe for your dry but very naked body to wrap up in. She then drags you over to your freshly made bed, pushing you down to sit at the edge.

Once she digs out the velvet box, she gets down on one knee and presents it to you before sliding it onto your finger. You instantly pull her into a tight embrace, saying the ring is beautiful and that you’ve never felt so happy.

“You didn’t just ask me post-orgasms because you thought it’d easily sway me, did you?” You ask, squinting your eyes at her in fake suspicion.

“What? No.” She sarcastically responds, waving her hand at you with a roll of her eyes.

You shake your head, laughing at the girl who grins mischievously at you. She quickly tackles you onto the bed and tickles your sides, making you squirm and laugh uncontrollably.

Alex has known from the first date that you were the one, and now, your love will be celebrated with all of your family and friends. Alex will finally be able to call you her lawfully wedded wife.

[shiraishi-mai]

[7:40pm]

“Where is he?” You asked softly. Your eyes roamed across the volleyball members occupying the hallway before looking back at the boy beside you. 

Osamu looked at you with a grim look and stuck his thumb behind him. “Sitting in the locker room. There shouldn’t be anybody else in there right now.” 

You nodded. “Thanks ‘Samu.” 

He dipped his chin in response before continuing to pack his duffle bag. There was a somber tone amongst the team as they began to slowly make their way out of the building. 

You headed to the locker room, slightly dragging your feet along the way. Once you were faced with the pale grey door, you found yourself hesitating to open it and laid your hand flat on its surface. Sighing, you turned around and leaned your back against it. What were you doing here? 

“Sooo what’s going on there?” Your friend had asked a few weeks ago while grinning like a Cheshire cat. You both had just watched a yellow-haired boy cheerfully wave at you through the classroom window before heading to his own class. 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you opted to stare straight ahead at the board.

“Oh c’mon. You and Miya have been acting all buddy-buddy recently.”

“Yep because we’re buddies.” You began to doodle on the corner of your notebook. 

Your friend snorted.  “When did that happen?”

You couldn’t help but smile softly at the memory of meeting Atsumu for the first time. Your friend was right - Atsumu and you used to have an awful relationship. 

You had started Inarizaki a bit later than everyone else. Your family had decided to move into the area after your father had a job transfer, and so you found yourself the awkward new student a few months after the school year had begun. Volleyball tryouts had already passed, but the coach had seen you play at your previous middle school and graciously accepted you after giving you a chance to play a practice game with the rest of the team. The girls were amazing and you found yourself right at home with them - something you were thankful for since you weren’t looking forward to making friends from scratch. 

You knew the boy’s volleyball team at Inarizaki was excellent, therefore when the captain needed someone to accompany her to run an errand to the other gym, you eagerly volunteered. You hadn’t had a chance to see them in action and were dying to get a peek at their practice to see just how good they were. 

An orange court identical to the one the girls practised in greeted your eyes as you both stepped in the building and your captain turned to you upon entering the gym. 

“Just wait here while I go talk to their coach!”

You nodded and curiously began to watch the practice. The familiar sounds of sneakers squeaking and balls hitting the floor put you at ease and a starstruck expression crossed your face as you saw a tall, darker-skinned boy spike.

“Oi.”

Another boy with a leaner figure and slanted eyes spiked with a weird twist to his form and your eyes widened. That was unusual. Impressive.

“Oi.” 

I KNOW someone is NOT trying to get my attention by saying ‘Oi’. Who is this uncouth- 

You turned to see a boy with yellow hair and an unamused expression on his face. 

“Yes?” you said sweetly.

“Cheerleading tryouts aren’t in this gym,” he said shortly. 

The fuck? 

Okay, technically you and your captain were wearing ponytail holders with ribbons in Inarizaki colours and you both hadn’t changed out of your regular PE tracksuit, so you could maybe see where he might have gotten that. 

“Excuse me?”

“This is a volleyball court.” He spoke in a tone that implied that you were a bit slow.  

No shit Sherlock. “I’m not looking for tryouts.” 

He groaned in exasperation and put his hands on his hips. “Well if you’re looking to watch our practice, we can’t have an audience today. We’re going over some serious stuff and don’t need any distractions.” He turned and left you with your hand half raised and mouth open before you could respond.

“These pigs just think they can crash practice when they don’t even care about volleyball…” 

Pigs.

Pigs?? 

Who the fuck does he think he is?? This little- 

Okay, you know what, breathe y/n. Don’t do anything rash. Remember what your therapist said.

You felt a faint tap on your foot and looked down to see a stray volleyball had rolled over to you. 

I really shouldn’t. You thought, picking up the ball and ran a finger along the curves and dips. 

This is a bad idea. You tossed the ball in the air. 

Well, when life gives you lemons. You hopped and felt a satisfying smack as you hit the ball towards the back wall. 

Now, the intention was to hit the area beside the offensive boy and give him a little scare, however you forgot that your hits tended to curve a bit (a problem you were trying to fix).

So you watched, horrified, as the ball flew straight towards the boy.

It was almost like the trajectory itself was in slow motion but sped up as it impacted and there was a dull thud sound as it hit his back.

“OW!”

He turned around, eyes flashing and mouth curled angrily. 

“Oh god I’m so sorry.” 

Is what you meant to say. But you had your pride and also had kind of already committed to going down this path. 

“L/n y/n,” you said, matching his glare. “[insert favourite vball position here]. Nice to meet you.” 

The noises from the gym all halted and the air was still as the other members of the team stared at the scene. 

The boy with the slanted yellow eyes and middle parted hair snorted which prompted the boy beside him to begin laughing as well. You were stunned to see the same face except framed with grey hair. 

There’s another one??

There was a sudden ‘eep’ noise and you felt someone rush over beside you. “Oh my goodness I’m so sorry.”

Your captain grabbed the back of your head and wrenched your head down into a bow. “We’re so sorry. RIGHT?”

You yelped when you paused and she sharply tugged on one ear.

“Yes, my apologies.” You muttered. 

The girl dragged you out of the gym berating you but sighed and ran a hand down her face as you recounted what had happened.

“Honestly I guess I can’t blame you too much. That was Miya Atsumu.”

“Oooh he’s one of the Miya twins.” They were first-years like you but already quite famous around the school.

She nodded. “Osamu is fairly nice but Atsumu is known for being…difficult.” 

You snorted. “Seems like it.”

“He’s a damn good setter though,” she continued.

“Still,” you frowned. “This sport is about teamwork. You can’t be too difficult or else the team can’t function.” 

“Agreed,” she said before narrowing her eyes and looking at you from the side. “Though I’ll make you eat your words if that temper of yours makes an appearance on our team.” 

You shuddered before walking quickly ahead of her back to the girls’ gym. 

—-------------------------------------------------------

After that, your interactions with Atsumu Miya didn’t get much better. 

It didn’t help that he was in the class next door to yours. Everytime you met in the halls (which happened a good amount of times during the week) snide remarks were exchanged. 

“Oh look, it's the school’s kpop star,” you said drily when you exited the classroom for lunch and found yourself, yet again, in front of him. “Raaah raah.” 

“What the hell are you doing?”

“Don’t you expect to hear crowd noises everywhere you go? You’re always strutting around like you’re the shit and eating up the attention people give you. Well until they start messing with your serves,” you smirked. “It’s too bad you aren’t good enough to not be so easily distracted.” 

He looked at his twin beside him. “I told you, squealing pigs.” 

“At least I don’t go around grunting like a giant ape.”

The lanky boy whose name you learned was Suna tried to hide a snicker behind his hand.

“Well I almost didn't give someone a CONCUSSION.”

“Oh please,” you turned away from him and waved your hand in a shooing motion. “Your head is too thick to get a concussion.” 

“Tch more like your spike is too weak for it.”

“What did you say??” You whipped back around only for a teammate of yours to magically materialise and drag you away by the collar. News of your ostensible assault to Atsumu had spread amongst both teams and your incredible dislike for him was well-known by now. 

“I fucking dare you to show up to practice Miya and see for yourself it that’s true!”

“Hai hai that’s enough,” your teammate said tiredly and you crossed your arms, fuming, as you saw him sniggering before turning the corner. 

The students in your hallway quickly became accustomed to your face-offs, opting to give you two a wide berth whenever they occurred. Suna often stopped by to film and told you he was going to make a compilation of the best 10 fights at the end of the year. 

“He’s not that bad you know,” Osamu said, sipping on his drink. Your eyes rolled up to him from where you were lying down on the bench beside him. 

“I’ll believe it when I see it.” 

“He’s…passionate. With a one-track mind. I think it’s good you’re so direct to him. It’s the only way that really gets through to his stupid brain anyway.”

You laughed. “How are you guys so different?” Osamu was in your class and at first you had been wary of him - he did share Atsumu’s genes after all - but were relieved to find out he was actually super chill. 

“I didn’t wanna end up like him.” He said simply and you chuckled again before frowning. 

“It’s a shame…he plays beautifully though,” you said under your breath.

You didn’t notice Osamu side-eye you quickly with an eyebrow raised.

Inarizaki had one of their games recently and you were honestly a bit curious to see how the evil Miya played and also so you could see if he made any mistake for your own satisfaction. However, you had to admit that Atsumu was talented. He was reckless and got ahead of himself but his sets were perfect. Most of the time at least. They were the type that you knew spikers were itching to hit and you wondered what it’d be like to play with someone like him.

Definitely a shame. 

—-------------------------------------------------

Of all things, the school’s annual fall event was the reason your relationship with Atsumu improved. 

Your friend’s class was putting on a production and she asked you to help paint some of the set pieces as a few people had canceled on her last minute. 

“y/nnnnn pleasseee” your friend whined. 

“I spend 90% of my life at school and the one free Saturday I have YOU WANT ME TO BE AT SCHOOL?” She grinned, enthusiastically nodding.

“You got some nerve-”

“It’s not my fault my classmates are lazy…I always get stuck doing busy work” she interrupted, shooting you her best puppy eyes. You bit your tongue as you wanted to retort that it was her fault for being the class’s student rep. 

You sighed. “Okay fine.” 

She squealed and clapped her hands. “Perfect, meet me at 1pm.”

A pit had formed in your stomach that you couldn’t explain as you opened the door to the auditorium. When your friend spotted you, she brightened and grabbed you by the arm, dragging you behind the stage. Large set pieces that outlined what you think was a castle and some trees were set-up but you barely noticed as your eyes found an offensive figure. 

Miya Atsumu turned his head to the side, flashing you his signature smile and opened his mouth. 

“Nope,” you said and turned on your heel and headed back towards the front. Your friend quickly ran and stood in front of you.

“What is Miya doing here??” 

“Apparently he and Osamu crashed into the principal while they were racing to the cafeteria and knocked him down so he’s forcing him to help out as punishment.

“Why is he the only one in there? Where’s Osamu??”

“Technically Atsumu is the one who knocked the teacher over. Osamu managed to skirt away in time so he wasn’t seen.” 

You groaned. “I can’t do this. Honestly, we might end up ruining your scenery fighting or something.”

She glared at you. “You wouldn’t dare.” 

You winced as she stared at you for a moment with a pensive expression on her face.

“What?”

“Maybe you should hang out with him. Both of you play volleyball…just talk about that.” 

“I don’t want to talk to him period.”

She snorted and said, “Just be open-minded. And don’t kill each other. Or destroy my set pieces.” She quickly added at the end.

“No promises.” 

You walked back and went straight to the paint rollers, blatantly ignoring the heavy gaze trained on you. Picking it up, you went to the end of the half-painted castle furthest away from him and began to roll. 

Atsumu raised an eyebrow. “That side is done.” 

You didn’t say anything and scooted a little to where it was unpainted.

“I don’t bite.”

“It wouldn’t surprise me if you did.” 

“Shouldn’t I be more afraid of you?”

You glared at him and instead began to talk to one of the other people painting beside you. There were only three others and they had been fairly quiet at the hostile energy radiating between you two. 

However, Atsumu remained eerily quiet as he worked on his set piece and as you focused on yours, you found that time passed fairly quickly. You were finishing up and went to get another paint bucket when you blanched upon seeing Atsumu’s work. 

“Oh my god please don’t tell me this is all you’ve accomplished.” 

“This is harder than it looks!” He said defensively and you bit back a laugh. When he had whipped around to retort, he revealed that he had paint smudged on one of his cheeks as well as a bit of splatter on his shirt. 

“It’s straight lines Miya. I know you act like an ape but I didn’t expect you to have a monkey brain too.” 

He opened his mouth with an indignant face but stopped when you stood beside him. 

“The lines go this way - see then it looks like bricks.” You brushed lightly on the cardboard. 

Atsumu looked at you, eyes wandering around your facial features. He’d never seen you up this close before and without a scrunched up expression on it. Your elbows were almost touching and he frowned. 

“She’s pretty ya know.” Osamu grinned as if he knew a secret. It pissed Atsumu to see that expression on his face.

“So what? She’s mean and bitchy.”

“Oh c’mon. It’s partly your fault she acts that way too. She can be sweet sometimes.” 

“L/n. Sweet. Right.” 

“What, you don’t want my help?” You felt your hackles raise at his frown. 

He shook his head. Your eyes were lit with a bright fire - not necessarily one that was hostile but rather with a lively quality in them - and the stage lights cast shadows across the planes of your face in a way that made you look both glowing and vibrant. 

Pretty. 

His eyes widened slightly and he shook his head a bit to get out of his daze. He must be crazy. The fumes from the paint had probably made him a bit high and out of his mind. Right?

—---------------------------------------------------

After that, your relationship with Atsumu seemed to improve. Your face-offs slowly became more light-hearted and you both began to chat about volleyball, schoolwork, how Osamu and Suna bully him and on and on. He was surprisingly funny and by that, he was easy to tease and rile up. The two of you still fought but it was more so bickering over whether horror movies were better than action movies rather than actual malice. 

He’d come to watch a few of your practices and even began going to games if he’d finish his first. You’d find him, arms leaning against the railings of the second-floor seats and a shit-eating grin gracing his lips. You groaned internally when you saw the flash of blonde in the corner of your eye but refused to take your eyes off the service. 

There was a yell from the stands. “In!”

You froze momentarily watching the ball hit just outside the line.

“Out!” The referee called. 

“ATSUMU MIYA.” 

You whipped your head to the offensive boy and mouthed an aggressive “GET OUT.” 

All you got in response were mini finger hearts.

Mentally facepalming, you turned your attention back to the game and grumbled about him being lucky that this was just a practice match. You’d definitely get back at him on the walk home later.

Yes, indeed, Atsumu had begun to walk you home. He’d wave Osamu off and claim that he needed to walk off his post-practice high and it was getting darker quickly now anyway and he couldn’t make fun of you if you died on the way home. Most of the time, you guys continued the bickering from the day and joked about stupid things, and sometimes, when practice ran late deep into the night, the two of you would just walk side-by-side in comfortable silence. 

And honestly, being friends with Atsumu Miya was nice. 

—--------------------------------------------------

Unfortunately, your heart betrayed you and you could pinpoint the moment it did. 

You were watching the boys play a match and Osamu had gone in for a spike only to change it into a set straight to Aran. Atsumu looked stunned momentarily before he let out a boisterous laugh. The sound was just like a child’s - a refreshing sound full of joy and pure amusement - and you could practically feel his adrenaline amp up another notch. 

Aran scored the point (ofc) and the team gave each other excited high fives before the buzzer rang, signalling the other team calling a time out. You watched him chatter away upon reaching the sidelines and Aran gave him a slap on the back in annoyance while Suna shook his head. You chuckled at their antics but your smile slowly faded as your eyes found the blonde setter again. 

The slight chill from the stadium’s A/C, 

the feel of your hand gripping the end of a yellow cone,

the excited chatter of your classmates beside you, 

the itch at the end of your fingertips to hold that blue and yellow sphere.

You felt your heart beat painfully when you heard Atsumu’s laugh again. 

If you learned anything about Atsumu, it was that he was passionate and wore emotions on his sleeve. Life was simple for him - he said what he was thinking and unashamedly acted the way he felt. When he was elated, his joy was infectious and his face would shine excitedly about some new cool thing he pulled off. He was blunt, but honest and you felt a sense of trust in him because of it. 

And he had his kind moments. 

Once, he found you sitting on the lowest bleacher in an empty gym after a match when your team had lost a crucial game to qualify for the quarterfinals. 

Your eyes blankly stared at the ground as you absentmindedly spun a volleyball in your hands. 

“You guys put up a good fight.”

You snorted in response. “I could’ve done more.” 

“The team worked hard - you worked hard all year. Just get better and kick ass in the fall.” 

“Yeah I tried my best and all it got me was there. I made so many mistakes.” You shook your head. “I should have hustled after more balls…I missed the timing on a few blocks…geez,” you inhaled sharply and leaned back on your hands. “I feel so incompetent. What have I been doing this entire time?” 

“Hey I didn’t stay after all those sessions just for you to complain they didn’t help.” 

You wrinkled your forehead. “Sorry, that’s fair.” Looking up, you gazed into his warm brown eyes, you smiled softly. “Thank you for helping me.” 

He stared at you hard for a moment before turning his head away. “This just means I’m forcing you to train harder next year.” 

You groaned. “For fucks sake.” 

“But really,” he continued. “You aren’t incompetent. You’re like - you’re good.” He said a bit lamely before hesitantly continuing. “You’re good at volleyball, get good grades and get along with people easily. You’re better than most of these scrubs by far.” 

“And I’m pretty.” You swept your hair over your shoulder jokingly. 

There was a pause. “And you’re pretty.” 

“Not to gas you up or anything,” he quickly added. 

You giggled, ignoring the sudden increased palpitation in your chest before responding, “Aw since when is Atsumu Miya a sweetie.”

“Shut up, I take it back.” He stood up and plucked the ball from your hands. “C’mon you need to practice serving.” 

You narrowed your eyes. “My shoulder hurts.”

“Yeah and your serves sucked so let’s go.” 

You were pulled back into the game when the crowd surrounding you stood up, roaring in delight after Suna whipped a point in. Atsumu punched the air, roaring with them and you felt your chest squeeze painfully.

Oh god. 

—--------------------------------------------------

Just as you came to terms with how you felt, things soured with the blonde Miya. 

Atsumu was passionate and wore his heart on his sleeve. This meant that when he was upset, he was upset. Essentially he turned into a stubborn child. 

You were hesitating to open the door because you hadn’t talked to Atsumu in weeks. You were just as stubborn as him and maintained it wasn’t your fault. Both your heads would turn the other way and there was no more bickering - just an icy silence. 

And it all started with a stupid bet.

Atsumu had been teasing you for weeks about how someone seemed to daydream more during class recently and it seemed to result in him somehow getting a higher grade than you on a quiz. In response, you shot back that you’d beat him at midterms.

“Okay bet,” he said easily. 

“And if I win,” he crossed his arms and tilted his head with a smirk. “You have to wear the Inarizaki cheerleader uniform AND yell ‘GO ATSUMU’ during our game.”

You looked at him unamused. “I thought you didn’t like people distracting you.”

“During my serves. Do NOT do it during my serve,” his face darkened. 

“Okay okay moody. But if I win,” an evil look crossed your face. “You have to do the same thing.”

Suna’s eyes widened. “I would literally pay money to see that.” 

Atsumu’s eyebrows raised. “You want me to yell ‘GO ATSUMU’?”

You blinked at him in response. “This will be so easy.”

“The pom poms would look so small,” mumbled Suna quietly as Atsumu yelped indignantly.

Your eyelids pressed shut.

I’m so done with the boy’s volleyball team at this school.” 

However, what you didn’t know was that Atsumu, though lacking in other areas, was fairly good at math when he tried. This, and the lack of sleep you claimed to have, resulted in him scoring a lousy 2 points above you. 

Hence you stood in a uniform, pom–poms in hand and a bow in your hair at the game that would qualify Inarizaki for the fall tournament. 

“Suna, please tell me you got this on camera.”

The tall boy waved his phone up. “Oh yeah, with many different angles of her scrunched up angry face. You know-,” He leaned down, hands placed in his pockets, to your eye level. “You’d be prettier if you smiled.” 

Your eyes narrowed into slits. “Suna Rintaro you did not just say that. It’s so offensive and plays into traditional gender roles and on behalf of all girls I should-”

“Ap-buh-uh,” his slanted eyes turned upward into crescent moons as he straightened with an easy smile. “Just a joke, princess. You genuinely look good.” 

You huffed in annoyance. “I look good in anything.”

You waited for a comment from the annoying setter beside Suna but just found him blinking at you. 

“What are you doing?”

“Enjoying the moment,” he said with an oh so innocent smile. 

“Creep.”

“Hey I’m not the one who stinks at math.” He threw his hands up in defence. 

“TWO POINTS MIYA,” you moved to smack the back of his head and he dodged easily before speed walking down the hall.

“Oh what’s that I think we have to go warm-up,” he exclaimed loudly before smirking. “Don’t forget to cheer me on.”

“UGH.” You sighed in defeat.

“So when are you confessing your undying love for him?”

You squawked at Suna in protest. “I do not - I- it’s Atsumu - he -”

“I got it, breathe y/n,” he ruffled your hair and gave you a peace sign in farewell before walking off after Atsumu.

“Cheer for your guy loudly Ms. Cheerleader.” 

You huffed and you felt a hand slip into yours. Your head spun before you relaxed, recognising one of the regular cheerleaders behind you. She had been kind enough to lend you her spare uniform and teach you some of the cheers. 

“Y/n we have to get to our seats!” 

“Yay,” you said. Your voice fell flat despite trying to sound enthusiastic. 

She laughed and began to tug you into the gym. “Aw c’mon, you look gorgeous. Your boyfriend must be pumped to have you cheer for him!”

“He isn’t my boyfriend.”

“Hmm sure,” she said and made a knowing face at you. 

“He isn’t!” 

“Oh look, they're warming up. Let’s go to our seats before they start.”

And so you let yourself chant along with the girls beside you, throwing up your pom poms a little late but trying your best nonetheless. Atsumu was on fire as usual, syncing perfectly with Suna and Aran. Osamu made a few service errors, but you knew that he had been a bit ill the past few days. Some of your friends from the volleyball team even joined you and all of you screamed your support from the stands.

Finally the match came to an end and naturally Inarizaki won. You were so proud of the team and as they went around to high-five the other team your friend turned to you. 

“y/n, we’re going to the mall to hang out after. Wanna join us?” 

You nodded absent-mindedly, your gaze fixed upon the team below. “I think I can join you later. I want to say hi to the boys before I go.” 

She giggled. “Of course, gotta see Atsumu before you go.”

“Hey! I want to see Osamu and Suna too!” 

She simply laughed. “You’re practically bouncing in your seat. Hurry up and go say bye, we can wait for you outside.”

You nodded in response and took off towards the locker room. Normally, the guys would have a brief talk before changing and Atsumu would be standing outside, a smile on his face and with a slight wave of his hand. You’d thought about changing first to spare yourself from his teasing but honestly, you secretly thought you looked kinda cute in the uniform and wanted him to see you in it again. 

A sudden hand clamped around your wrist before you could make it down the corridor and you turned your head in confusion, locking eyes with a stranger. You recognised him as one of the players on the opposing team.

“What the hell are you doing?” You nearly squawked. 

“I couldn’t help but notice you in the stands today and was wondering why our side didn’t have any supporters as gorgeous as you,” he said with a wink.

“Thanks for the compliment but please don’t touch me.” 

“I saw you with the team before the game too. You’re a popular girl~” 

“So what?” Trying to calm your rising panic and you attempted to rip your arm away from him but his grip was too strong. 

“What’s wrong? You seem to be already whoring yourself out to them so what’s the problem with one more.”

“Fuck you,” you spit and thrashed against him. You reached your other hand up to slap his face but found yourself pinned against the lockers.

Your eyes widened as he leaned his face toward you with a fake smile plastered on your face. The feeling of being so helpless made your blood run cold and you froze, unable to understand what was actually going on. You closed your eyes, bracing yourself to headbutt him when you heard a loud crack. Your eyes snapped open and you saw the boy holding his cheek and a fuming Atsumu was standing in front of him. You felt a pair of gentle arms slowly pull you away from the two and you looked up to see Suna had wrapped his arms lightly around you, his gaze flatly looking at the other boy.

“Are you okay?” he murmured. 

You nodded faintly but you were focused on Atsumu’s face. His face - you had never seen any expression even close to that. Fury was radiating from him as he roughly shoved the boy against the locker and raised his arm again.

You wrenched yourself free from Suna’s grip and ran to stand by Atsumu.

“That’s enough Atsumu!” You gripped the arm that he had balled into a fist. “I’m okay.”

“Miya look at me!” you said when he didn’t reply. “Please!”

He finally dragged his eyes away from the boy and you shivered as he focused his glare on you.

“It’s fine,” you repeated softly and he thankfully put his arm down.

“He isn’t worth you getting kicked off the team,” you continued firmly and Atsumu finally let go of the boy whose face had gone white as Osamu showed up. The trio stood angrily in front of him and you realised in that moment they were quite intimidatingly big. 

“Don’t show your face in front of us again or I’ll beat the shit out of you,” Atsumu spit.

“C’mon Atsumu,” Osamu pushed his twin away and roughly pushed him in the direction opposite of the player. 

“Don’t touch me,” he said growling. 

“Atsumu,” you began cautiously as you trailed after him outside the exit doors. “Atsumu is your hand okay?” 

“Just what the fuck were you doing?” 

“Excuse me?” 

“Why were you just standing there? Why the hell were you not fighting back?”

“I was fighting back!” you said, eyes flashing in anger. “I just froze up for a second! Heaven forbid I was fucking scared.” 

He shook his head as if your words were bouncing off of him. “How stupid are you? You’re always doing this - not taking care of yourself and acting all airheaded and zoning out. It’s a goddamn chore to watch out for you!”

“Nobody asked you to watch out for me,” your voice increased to match his. 

“Maybe if you stopped daydreaming like an idiot you’d start playing like an actual decent player instead of just sleeping on the court. Hell maybe your team would be able to stop being shit enough to fucking qualify for nationals for once.” 

“Dude that’s enough,” Osamu looked at him incredulously. 

You took a step back. Atsumu knew better than anyone else how hard on yourself you are, especially about volleyball. You had been overstressed recently as your grades were suffering because you kept staying so late to keep practising and you felt like you were drowning trying to balance everything. 

Your arms came up to wrap themselves around you protectively. 

The anger drained out of his face almost comically fast. “Y/n,” he said, a hint of fear on his face. 

You started to back away and shrugged nonchalantly. 

“No no, you know what you’re right,” you hated how your voice came out shakily. “It’s my fault that someone harassed ME, it’s MY fault our team keeps losing, and it’s MY damn fault that I’m not strong enough to have it together all the time.” 

“Y/n that’s not what I mea-.”

“No, that's exactly what you were saying,” you said, cutting him off. “Fuck you Atsumu.” Tears pricked at your eyes and you blinked them away, refusing to let him see you cry. 

“Y/n? Is everything okay?” 

The group of you all shifted to see your friends cautiously looking at you. “We heard yelling and you never came out so we were worried.”

“Yep,” you said, attempting to sound cheerful. “Everything’s good. Let’s go, I’m finished here.” 

“y/n,” Atsumu said with a hint of desperation in his voice. 

“I’ll see you guys around.” You couldn’t bring yourself to look at any of the boys and simply sped off towards your friends. 

“That was a low blow,” Osamu shook his head.

Atsumu stared after your retreating figure before groaning and banged his fist against the locker. “I’m so fucked.” 

—------------------------------

And that’s the last time you really talked to Atsumu. He made multiple attempts to talk to you in school but always found you surrounded by your friends. They looked at him reproachfully and you were grateful to have such great people supporting you. He tried to confront you a couple of times before and after practice but your captain always made sure to kick him out of the gym and after you would practically sprint home before the boys’ had finished their practice. 

“He’s pretty hostile nowadays,” Osamu sighed from beside you. He’d found you hiding on the rooftop during lunch one day.

“What a surprise.”

“He’s beating himself up for it for sure though.” 

“Miya, are you defending your brother for once,” you tried to joke. 

“I dunno,” he leaned against his arms behind him. “You know how he gets. He’s an ass for sure but he was so worried that day. I’m not sure I blame him entirely though. It’d be infuriating to see anyone in that position. Let alone the girl he -” he paused. “Let alone our friend.” 

There was a silence long enough you felt Osamu glancing at you repeatedly. 

You really weren’t upset with Atsumu. At first, you were admittedly a bit scared of him - you’d never seen that side of him before. BUt you realised that it was probable that the anger was never directed at you. He defended you without a second thought and likely risked a suspension. Atsumu had supported you these past few months and had been a good, albeit kind of annoying, friend. He had his moments - enough so that you had fallen for him. Was it fair that you cut him out of your life?

“I miss him.” you admitted and tucked your knees against your chest. “I don’t really know how to talk to him though. I just keep hearing his words and I’m scared, like what if he loses his temper and says something hurtful again.” 

Osamu nodded. “I can’t promise ‘Tsumu won’t get mad again or say something hurtful and you definitely shouldn’t have to deal with it or make excuses for him. But he cares for you a lot and he doesn’t know how to be concerned since he’s emotionally stupid.” 

“Also,” he finally added. “Ma beat him with a spoon when she found out what happened so the likelihood of him doing it again seems very low.”

You giggled. “Aw Mama Miya putting the fear of god in her boys.”

“Mama Miya is very scary.” Osamu made a face. “She’s probably the only person Atsumu will listen to.” 

Your giggles rang out across the rooftop and Osamu huffed in amusement. As the sounds faded, your eyebrows drew together. You just needed time. You’d get over his words - they were empty after all - but until you could just see him for the boy you liked again, it’d be better to take a break from seeing him. 

—----------------------------------------------------------

A few months passed and Atsumu largely left you alone after a while. You could still feel his eyes on you if he passed by your classroom and you gave quick nods in his direction when you waved at Osamu and Suna. 

And then suddenly, here you found yourself after a game, knowing that he was probably in a shitty mood and asking yourself if you were willing to have him lash out at you again. The men’s volleyball team had gone to nationals and lost at the quarterfinals. You had given him a quick good luck after you stopped by to check on Osamu and Suna before the game but had screamed your lungs out cheering him on during the matches. You were shocked and your heart dropped when they lost after fighting so hard to break the tie. 

You knew he was taking it hard and would be blaming himself for everything.

How is he? You’d texted Osamu.

Not good. We’re leaving him alone.

Yikes is he being hard on you guys?

Nah tbh he’s p down and not saying much. 

The corners of your lips turned downward as you stared at the text. Before you knew it, your feet had led you to the team where they had directed you here.

You took a deep breath and opened the door praying Atsumu was still in there. He was your friend, the guy you had fallen for, and a source of comfort for you when you were having a tough time. It didn’t even matter if he had harsh words - you wanted to be there for him. 

The tall blonde was sitting on the bench, his arms bracing his back, and a towel covering his face. 

“‘Tsumu.” 

No response.

“‘Tsumu.” You called again, standing in front of him. 

“Not a good time, princess.” 

You reached a shaky hand out to place on his shoulder. 

You heard him inhale and a warm hand lifted to cover yours. The other came up to place itself on your hip and his head lolled forward onto your stomach. Your unoccupied hand gently began to rub small circles on his back. 

It oddly felt relaxing in that position and you didn’t feel anxious. It reminded you of those quiet walks home where there was a muted comfort between the two of you. 

“I’m not going to tell you ‘it's just one of those days’ and anybody gets them. While it’s true, you aren’t ‘anybody’. The standard for you is high - you set it yourself after all. But you always pull through.” You gave a little laugh. “You’re a great guy. That’s why all the people in your life stick with you no matter how callous and insensitive you can get.” You rolled back the towel so you could see his face. 

“You too?” His eyes peered intensely into yours. 

“Yep. Me too.” 

“M’sorry,” he said in a low voice. “Please don’t be mad anymore.”

“I’m not,” you said, your face softening but then frowned. “But I’m not sure if I forgive you yet.”

“I’ll take whatever I can get.” He half-heartedly gave you a crooked smile. 

“Dummy,” you shook your head, “I missed you.” 

He laughed, getting up and pulling you into a hug. The two of you stood, smiling idiotically at each other. 

“Is this a bad time to mention that Suna says you have a crush on me.”

“What???” 

You tried to untangle yourself from him but he merely squeezed you tightly in response.

“Take all the time you need. Just let me know when it’s okay to ask you out properly, alright?”

You groaned and buried your face into his chest. 

“Okay? Hello y/n are you there? y/n?”

“Fine, shut up, I'll let you know.” 

Fin.

[sunrisesfromthewest]

First Encounter Part 11 (Final)

Warnings/Summary: Mentions of Hospital | Coma/Medical staff | Pregnancy/Giving Birth/ Fights/Guns | Rafe and Armando 🫢| Reader reunites with Armando with an unexpected bundle of joy😉(Mike and Marcus being proud GRANDPARENTS 😁)

Previous Parts: 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10

This is the last part for this series hope you Enjoy!💕💕💕💕

////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////

“....……I need you to wake up mi amor.... please........Y/N WAKE UP!” Armando shouts.

Frowning you attempt to shift against your bed at the sound of Armandos voice, but something was weighing you down. Opening your eyes felt like the hardest thing in the world but eventually, you were able to slowly force them open, but the only thing you could see was blurry colors. 

Blinking a few times your vision cleared as you move your gaze around the room and to the constant beeping noise making you realize you're in a hospital. At the moment, the room was empty but you could see a whole bunch of balloons and flowers, sitting on a counter. Leaving you even more confused as you look for Armando, but pausing when you feel something shift against your stomach. 

Glancing down you see a black furry cat laying against your stomach, tilting your head you reached a hand down to poke it; causing it to purr as it bumps its head against your hand. 

“M-Midnight?” you croak out voice hoarse from not using it but the cat seemed to perk up from hearing its name. 

Pulling the cat up to lay on your chest, left you concerned when you still feel like you're being weighed down. Using the bed bar to pull yourself up, you glanced at the blanket on you wondering if it’s one of those heavy ones. 

After pushing it off of you, you felt no relief which made you whine, but once your eye landed on your stomach you screamed. Moving as fast as you could to get out of the bed, Midnight jumps off of your chest as you stand on weak wobblily legs. Ivs and monitors harshly rip off of you, and crash on the floor along with your frail body after taking a step. 

Hearing the alarms go off in your room made Marcus and Theresa drop their coffees, dashing straight towards your room, that was now surrounded by medical staff. 

Crying you push at your swollen stomach with fear, as you feel something press back at your hand. Seeing your colleagues try to comfort you only made you more frighten because at the moment you don’t really know why your here and being surrounded by all these people with no Armando only made your heart beat faster with fear. 

“Y/N! Baby it’s okay don’t be scared I got you.” Marcus says pushing through the crowd as he squats down next to your weak form, trying to calm you down so you wouldn’t mess up your recovery process.  

“What happened? Where's Mando? Why am I in a hospital?” you whimpered as Marcus picks you up to place you back on the bed. 

Pausing to look at Theresa who frowns she makes her way over to you, while tucking your hair behind your ear, “Y/N baby we’ll tell you everything after a while but I need you to relax for momma, okay” 

Groaning when your head begins to throb made you place your face in your hands, but feeling another shift inside your stomach had you jumping. 

“Why the fuck I keep feeling something move inside of me...is it an alien?” you shrieked peering at your swollen belly that is covered by the hospital gown. 

Laughing at your delirious state Marcus shakes his head, "Even worse......a Lowrey baby! I kept telling Theresa I wasn’t having those fish dreams for no reason but she didn’t believe me until I finally convinced her to get the doctor to do an ultrasound.” 

Pausing he grabs your hand excitedly while gazing up at you with a smile, "My Baby having A Baby!” 

 Blinking at him a few times your vision begins to fade to black, as you fall back against the bed. “Dammit Marcus! I told you we needed to wait; she just woke up from a 6-month coma!” Theresa says angrily as the medical staff quickly begins to perform procedures. 

The news that your father hit you with after just waking up from a medical induced coma, did not sit with you well, and the next day when you woke up you question your friend who just so happen to be your doctor to talk about it. 

“Y/N I know this pregnancy caught you by surprised trust me it surprised us as well; we weren’t expecting you to be pregnant." He said glancing at your vitals, and medical charts," But when you kept rejecting the medication we were giving you for your recovery and with your father's persistence we decided to do an ultrasound.” 

Stopping he glanced back up at you with concern, “Y/N as a friend and your doctor...... you and that child that your carrying is a miracle......on the way to the hospital I was told that you flat lined in the ambulance and when you were in surgery you died 3 times on the table.” 

Shocked you glanced down at yourself, hesitantly placing a hand on your stomach, and smiling slightly when you feel a kick against your hand.  

“This pregnancy is going to be rough since you're still recovering but I believe that the little of bundle of joy, you have inside you will encourage you to keep fighting.” He said passing you ultrasound pictures from each month before walking out the door to give you privacy. 

//////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////// 

 Upon hearing that your awake everyone made their rounds to visit you starting with your sister, nephew, Reggie and your new niece who you absolutely adored. Then Kelly and Dorn who pulled you into a big group hug, talking about how there excited to be godparents, which made you roll your eyes but smile.  

Also, Dorn who was showing off his healed bullet wound talking about, "This my dope ass battle scar...and new excuse to see my therapist more, to which you're still going to by the way." causing you and Kells to side eye him like he was crazy. 

Next was Rita who brought you an adorable get well soon bear, while telling you about her new man, which made you raise your eyebrow but she assured you he had no dirty on him. After talking with you for a while she was called back to the precinct but before she left, she pulled you into a tight hug saying get well soon and congratulations. 

Hearing a knock at the door woke you up out of your sleep, but when you look up you see Mike and Christine walking in with flowers and big smiles on their faces, "What are y’all doing here?” you yawn while leaning up to give Christine a hug then doing the same with Mike. 

“Girl stops acting surprised you knew the moment I received that call from your daddy he wouldn’t had stop until I came up here.” Mike says moving back to set the flowers on the bedside table and to get a good look at you. 

Chuckling you say I know, while watching their eyes move to your stomach, "Looks like you are going to be a grandparent after all.” you giggled as Mike rolls his eyes. 

“I’m too young to be a grandpa and don’t remind me your Daddy already talking about that I need to trade my car in for something more baby proof.” Mike stated, crossing his arms as he makes a face about giving away his Porsche. 

“And work on your driving skills.” Christine mutters making you laugh harder as Mike turns to her offended. 

” I am an excellent driver thank you very much!” he objected watching as you and Christine glance at each other before laughing. 

“The fuck y’all ‘he he heing’ for ain’t nobody said anything funny." Mike grumbles as he walks away towards the door, when he hears knocking but starts grumbling more once he sees who it was. 

“Fix that negative energy it ain’t good for the baby!" Marcus says walking over to you as Theresa rolls her eyes at her husband behavior, while actually stopping to greet Mike. 

“THERE GOES MY BEAUTIFUL GIRL! How you feeling baby girl!” Marcus exclaims loudly while reaching over to bring you into a tight hug, and then pressing a kiss on your forehead. 

“Now your loud ass is what’s not good for the baby!” Mike protested, walking back to the bed, as Marcus shifted his attention to Mike, making you and your mom share a knowing look before she pulls you into a tight hug. 

Watching as they began to bicker over what’s good for the baby you see Christine leans towards you and your mom while saying imagine when the baby gets here, causing you three to burst out laughing. 

///////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////// 

After doing multiple rounds of therapy, and going through many tests for you and the baby. The Doctor finally decided to discharge you after being in the hospital two more months, making you now 8 months pregnant. But not without 24-hour supervision which made you groan already knowing that everyone was going to be a pain in your ass. 

Flinching slightly at the small pinching sensation in your shoulder, made you sigh as you continue to slip on your dress. Belly now too big for regular clothes, and with you still healing it was just easier to wear dresses. 

Hearing knocks you watch as your parents walk in your room with a nurse following in with a wheelchair, making you shake your head, "That want be needed.” you said slipping into your crocs, and standing up. 

But after taking a couple steps towards your parents, your already out of breath, placing one hand on your stomach and the other on your back had your mom laughing as she takes the wheelchair from the nurse. 

“Baby I already know.” Theresa says helping her daughter sit in the wheelchair, and laughing more when she hears you release a sigh of relief. 

“I’m still not getting used to this whole pregnancy thing.” you sighed watching them gather your get-well gifts and personal belongings. Passing you a few things to hold, Marcus gazes around the room to make sure that was everything before turning towards you.  

“I know Y/N/N but look at it on the brightside you’ll be meeting and holding your baby in a month!” your dad beamed, giving you a few things before wheeling you out the room, Theresa walking beside him humming in agreement. 

“Yay!” you mumble sarcastically but in all honest you were really excited to see the baby, especially after deciding to wait until you give birth to figure out the gender. 

As you enter the elevator you begin texting in the sibling group chat laughing at something dumb, they sent “Y/N/N what are you looking at?” Theresa said gazing at your phone, making you place it on your chest muttering nosey. 

“Probably Jr saying some stupid shit...I swear that boy be around your side of the family too much.” Marcus says pushing you out the elevator once you guys reach the entrance to the hospital. Rolling her eyes Theresa moves past him to set the things in the SUV, before smacking the back of his head.  

“I see now where you get that hitting from.” Marcus whined as he rubs the sore spot on his head before locking the wheelchair in place. 

Groaning as you stand up thankfully with the help of your mom, you roll your eyes at your father's comment while using your good arm to slide yourself slowly into the back seat. “Y/N stop rolling your eyes before they get stuck like that!” your mom said closing your door and moving to the passenger seat. 

“Yeah, you better or that baby gonna come out cocked eyed!” Marcus joked, closing the driver door while laughing but immediately stopping as he sees you and Theresa give him the same glare.  

/////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////// 

Upon entering your parents' house, your eyes shifted around the foyer wondering why it was so dark in their home, "Hey did y’all forget to pay the light bill?” you questioned as you search along the wall for the light switch. 

Finding it you flick it on but instantly jump when you hear multiple shouts of surprise from your family and friends standing at the entrance. Shocked you gaze around the room feeling tears fill your eyes as you see the welcome home signs/slash baby shower decor. 

Opening your mouth to speak only made you burst out in tears as you really take in this sweet moment. Seeing this had everyone concerned until your mom spoke up, "She's okay guys...she’s just overwhelmed. Kelly gone ahead and help her to the living room!” 

Taking Kelly hand, you smile at her as you wobbled over to the recliner with her help, "Girl, you should’ve given me a heads up or something!” you sniffed, voice wobbling as you ease onto the recliner, making midnight jump onto the armrest. 

Shaking her head she glances around before saying, "And face the wrath of two Grandzillas I don’t think so we’ve been walking around egg shells around those two!” 

“Grandzillas! They ain’t been that ba-” hearing multiple voices cut you off with disagreements, had you raising your brows in disbelief. 

“It’s been so bad around those two that we can’t even mention baby befo-” as Dorn attempts to explain the drama, they’ve been facing Marcus cuts in. 

“Baby!?! Y’all talking about how it’s going to be a girl!” Marcus exclaims happily but Mike shouts in disagreement, “NOPE! We already talked about this, It’s definitely a boy!” 

Already feeling a headache coming you glance at Kelly and Dorn with understand as you hear the two start arguing. The day continues with you opening gifts and playing some games before you grew tired, making you step away to take a nap as everyone continues to party. 

Hearing Mike call out your name had you stopping in front of your bedroom door, watching him walk towards you with an envelope. “I mean’t to give this to you at the hospital but I felt like it was the wrong time.” he said passing the sealed paper to you. 

Lost you asked him what it was, causing him to give you a sad smile, "Before Armando left, he told me to give this to you.” 

“Armando?... Have you heard anything from him?” you asked already knowing the answer but choosing to see if Mike will say something different. Peering at you he sees the hopeful look in your eyes, making his own shift away from yours, "I haven’t heard anything from him since the mission, we gave him a burner phone but it’s been nothing but radio silence these last 8 months.” 

Frowning you glance at the envelope, smacking it lightly against your hand before sighing, "Thanks for this Mike...I’ve been wondering about him ever since I woke up. Do you have a burner...I want to...” pausing you clear your throat as you feel it tightening up from suppressing your tears. Nodding his head in understand he pulls a phone from his back pocket, "I keep one on me just in case he decides to ever call...If he picks up, please let me know.”  

Taking the phone from him you whisper a thank you and I will, as you stand there a few moments before pulling him into a tight hug. Sobbing into his shoulder Mike holds you as close as he could without putting too much pressure on your belly. 

Moving from the embrace you wipe at your eyes, “T-thanks Unc Mike.” you say giving him a nod before entering your room. 

Wiping tears of his own Mike, decides to make a brief stop to the restroom before returning to the others, not wanting them to see the change in his mood. 

Locking the door, you wobble over to your bed, and sit down while quickly ripping the envelope open. Pulling out the letter your gaze immediately land on the dried blood, making your eyes water as you wipe them to read his letter. 

Dear Y/N, 

If you're reading this Mi Amor that means Mike finally did one important thing for me as my father. I didn’t get the chance to fully explain to you how much I truly do love you, since we only had a limited time together in person. But during that time together you taught me how to love and protect someone other than myself. You showed me that it was okay to allow my emotions to showcase their true feelings without immediately putting up my defenses. Thank you for allowing me back into your heart, and showing me how to forgive and be forgiven; especially after my fuck up in Dorns kitchen. If I haven’t made it back to you yet whenever you read this just know I’m still fighting those odds, and I’ll be with you soon beautiful.  

Also, if Marcus was correct about you being pregnant see it as me giving you someone to comfort you until I return and tell them that there responsible of you until I come back. 

Your ONLY LOVE Mando  

Feeling yourself shake as tears run down your face had you sobbing into your hand as you hug the letter against your chest. Knowing that Armando took his time to write you a short letter; had your pregnant emotions running haywire, you noticed with him it was the little things that always leave your heart aching for more. 

Calming down you peer at the burner phone, immediately opening the contacts to see only one number making you pressing it quickly. Putting the phone on speaker you wait anxiously as it rings, and rub your belly as you feel a kick. 

The phone going straight to voicemail left you sad but you decided to leave a message just in case, "Mando it’s me Y/n... I-I just read your l-letter...a-and I *sobs slightly* I just wanted to say that-t I’ll be waiting for y-you...... Also, my dad was right...there was a bun baking in the oven, and it almost done...*laughs lightly*.  

Thank you for the parting gift by the way......... Mike and my dad are taking good care of me so don’t worry.....Mikes been worried about you tho..... I'll stop here before I start crying again, these pregnancy hormones are a bitch.... *sobs*.... if you get this, I’ll be giving birth sometime next month at the hospital I work at, I don’t know the gender yet so hopefully we can find out together...... I Love you, stay s-safe!” you said tone wavering as you send the voice message and end the call. 

Glancing down you watch as the phone begin to shake from your trembling hands, causing it to fall to the floor. Everything becomes a blur as you move to lay down while placing a protective hand on your stomach, which in return made the baby shift. 

“Don’t worry mommas alright.... just thinking about daddy.” you whisper as you feel the baby push against your belly, making you rub against the spot as you close your eyes. /////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////// 

Marcus holds open the door as you wobble your big 9-month self into the convenient store with determination. “Y/N/N why didn’t you stay in the car with Mike, I could’ve gotten your snacks you need to rest before the maternity shoot!" he says walking in himself while grabbing two ginger ales and skittles, before falling you towards the register. 

“You ate my candy last time before you even reached the car, then gone have the nerve to say you were tasting it for the baby!" You stated knowing for a fact that he’s been using your pregnancy craving as an excuse to eat junk food again.  

Asking the cashier for the candy behind him you hear your dad gasp loudly, “Y/N I know that’s not Tropical Fruit Bubbleicious!” 

“I’m sorry it’s the only candy I’ve been craving the last few weeks and skittles ain’t been cutting it lately.” you explained immediately opening the candy and letting out a satisfied moan when its sweet flavors hit your tongue. 

Smacking on the candy you hear your dad excitedly asks if you want a big pickle, turning you both stare at each other before grinning hard, "Make it two!” you blurted out while watching him set 4 onto the counter but not questioning it since you know he practically eat the same snacks you do. 

Standing at the register as you two continue your big back activities, y’all failed to noticed the man pulling out his gun behind y'all, "I heard them boys taste good with fruit roll-ups wrapped around them!”  

He added as he throws the candy on the counter with the rest of the snacks but as he reached a hand back for his wallet a gun enters his peripheral vision. 

“Open the fucking register! Now!” the man snapped at the cashier making them freeze in place along with you and your dad. 

“Why y’all ass always getting robbed! Y'all aint got no security yet!” Marcus commented as he glances at the cashier who just shrugs muttering, he don’t get paid enough for this. 

Dropping the candy from your hand, you lean against the counter while feeling a brief moment of pain before something wet run down your legs, “Oh shit!” 

Eyes widening in realization Marcus move over to support your weight while gazing back up at the thief,” Dammit boy you done caused her to go into labor......Fuck Mike finna be pissed!” 

Before the man can even question your father's statement he hears the entrance bell ring, making him move his attention and aim at the door. 

Stepping in talking loudly, Mike immediately pauses face becoming frustrated at the sight before him, "I told y’all five minutes now we late for the surp-, Marcus what’s all that shit on the register! Thought y’all ass said ginger ale only!” 

“Is that really what your focused on right now Mike! The damn snacks!” Marcus exclaims as he hears you taking in deep breaths. 

Watching as the two men began to bicker had the thief shift his gun between them anxiously but hearing your scream dragged his attention back to you. 

“SHUT THE HELL UP AND GET ME TO THE FUCKING HOSPITAL!” you yelled gripping the counter tighter, as you start feeling contractions. 

Quickly pulling out his gun Mike shoots the thief in the leg, while telling the cashier to call 911, making them yell aren’t y’all the police.   

Putting his gun back in his holster and kicking the gun away from the screaming thief, Mike wraps an arm around your waist while him and Marcus help you back to the car but hearing you say stop makes them freeze, "GRAB THE SNACKS THEY NOT GONNA LET ME EAT WHEN I GET IN THERE!” 

“Your right!” Marcus exclaim quickly throwing a 20 on the counter while scooping the treats up with his arms. 

Rolling his eyes, Mike keeps a tight arm around your waist while walking towards the entrance, "This baby finna pop out and y’all worried about food!” 

//////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////// 

Upon entering the hospital, you see everyone and the photographer who was supposed to take your maternity pictures chilling in the waiting room. Confused your about to question Mike but another contraction had you clutching your stomach in pain, grabbing the attention of a few nurses who immediately takes you to a room. 

Afte changing into a birthing gown and receiving epidural, you lay against the delivery bed; while angrily chewing on your cup of ice, Mike had snitched on you and your father making your mother take away all the snacks. 

“I understand taking his away but why mines!” you snapped shaking your cup hard while you wait for an explanation. “Yeah, why can’t we eat in peace Theresa; you know we’re stress eaters!” Marcus adds. 

Pointing an accusing finger at Marcus, she ignores him while directing her attention towards you, “Y/N/N all that junk food ain’t good so I brought you some okra water instead!” Theresa replied, pouring you a cup and placing it in your hands while taking your ice away. 

Gagging at the slimey texture, you shake your head frantically as you force the cup back in her hands, "I ain’t drinking that shit!” 

Shifting away from them you began mumbling to yourself, quietly cursing everyone out, but feeling a strong contraction hit you, had you grasping the railing.  

“Are you oka-” before anyone can get the words out you cut them off. 

“I’M FINE! JUST LEAVE ME ALONE!” you growled, feeling yourself sweat while the pain wears off but the uncomfortable pressure remains. 

Hearing a camera click had you snapping your head in the direction of the sound, making the photographer flinch as she freezes at your fearsome gaze. 

Not wanting to risk any chances of not getting his deposit back, Mike steps in quickly before you could do or say something stupid, during your angry labor pain episode, "We got a surprise for you!” 

Removing your pain-stricken eyes off the frighten photographer you briefly glance at Mike, shifting your tense frame to face away from them and towards the white walls as you mutter, "It better be my damn snacks!” 

Ignoring the sound of the room door opening and closing; you hear approaching footsteps. Keeping your eyes forward, your mind runs a mile a minute, as your cravings for food grow stronger. 

“You called for a snack, princess.” a familiar accented voice says. Freezing you feel your eyes began to water up as you keep your gaze ahead to scared to look back. 

“I waited months to see your pretty face again sweetheart.......please turn around for me.” you hear them beg as you feel a big warm hand caress your swollen hips. 

Shaking your head you close your eyes, feeling a dip in the bed as the hand travels towards your protruding belly. 

“I received your voicemail baby.......after hearing your scream torment my mind for 8 torturous months I was finally able to hear your angelic voice again.” they say making you bite your lip as you feel tears rundown your face. 

Rough but soft warm hands embrace yours as they shift your tense form, towards them, “Please let me see those beautiful eyes, mi amor.” 

Blinking away the cloudy tears, your gaze fall onto Armandos smiling bearded face, as he moves a hand up to wipe your tears away, “There's my pretty girl.” 

Launching forward you bring him into a tight hug, sobbing into his neck as he tightens his hold on you, while letting out quiet sniffs.  

“I got you baby.... I got you.” he comforted, pressing hard kisses against your head, while slipping a hand between the back of your open gown to rub soothing circles onto your warm brown skin. 

Pulling back, you stare up at him taking in his changed appearance as you watch him do the same with you, "I-we missed you.” you whispered watching his moist eyes shift down towards your belly with a smile. 

Placing a hand on your stomach he rubs his thumb against it, moving his teared fill eyes up to yours before pulling you into a passionate kiss. 

Setting a hand into his fluffy out grown hair you press your lips against his harder, as he swipes his tongue over yours before separating your lips causing a wet popping noise to be made. 

Seeing a single tear fall from his eye made you press a soft kiss on his cheek as he sucks in a breath from your comforting touch, "I missed y’all too.... more than you’ll ever know.” 

Moving his hand towards your face he pushes your thick hair behind you ears before placing it on your flushed brown cheeks, "Always said these words in my native tongue during our time together but never to your face......I fell in love with you the moment I made eye contact with those tear-filled eyes,2 years and 9 months ago......and now as I’m able to stare into those same moist eyes all over again......I want you to know that I truly love you Y/N.” 

Swiping away the tears that fall he watches you smile brightly at him before saying love you too, Mando. Letting out a content hum, he briefly gazes around the room, noticing everyone left to give you two a private moment. 

Bringing his attention back to you, he noticed the frown on your face as you shift your hips, "What's wrong mi amor!” 

“It’s time!” you said feeling a strong pushing sensation come from between your legs, causing you to squeeze Armando’s hand tightly. Before you could tell him to get the other’s you feel heavy weight fall on top of you making you snap out of your painful moment to gaze down at him. 

“Armando?” you questioned going to give his shoulder a pinch, only to stop once you realized what happened......this fool done passed out. 

///////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////// 

Once Armando was woken up by the help of Mike and slipped into a sanitary cover up, you endured 6 agonizing hours of labor filled with screams and I can’t do it’s with Armando’s assertive tone whispering into your ear you can, while supporting your pushing form. 

One last hard push brings your beautiful 8 pound crying boy into the world......huh, no wonder you were craving Tropical Fruit Bubbleicious. 

Hearing your friends/family congratulate you while the doctor places your crying son against your exhausted form, had you bawling as you hold your baby against your beating heart. Kissing your forehead, Armando presses his hand lightly against his son's tiny back as tears of his on trails down his olive tan cheeks, while thanking you. 

After cutting the umbilical cord, he follows the nurse out the room as she leaves with the infant, he'll be damned if he let his eyes leave his son for even a millisecond, fugitive or not he doesn’t give a fuck about who sees him. He seen to many things growing up involving the cartel harming the innocent for no reason, even babies as small as his son. 

Following behind Armando, everyone walks out the room except Theresa and Marcus, who decides to stay behind to check up on their baby, while holding  your hand as the nurses clean you up. "You did good Y/N/N.” you hear your father say as he pressed a kiss on top of your head before leaving Theresa with you to go check on the baby. 

A few hours later and with the help of Marcus, Armando sits in the recliner by the bed as he holds his son against his bare chest. Whispering a few things in Spanish he leans his head down to press a soft kiss, onto his son chubby cheeks making the infant squinch his face before relaxing. 

Hearing everyone let out a noise of admiration he turns his gaze towards Mike, who stands beside him with a proud expression. 

“Damn that Lowrey DNA really is a bitch; our genes didn’t even try." Marcus says peering at the baby as well, making Armando laugh but quieting down when he feels the infant move before relaxing. 

“Do you wanna hold him?” Armando asks his father after seeing his eyes shift between him and the infant.  

“I don’t know....” Mike commented, fear keeping him standing in the same spot. Seeing this Marcus supports his friend by moving him forward, while making him sit down beside Armando. 

Carefully placing the child into Marcus hands, Armando watches him stare down at the baby lovingly, while instructing Mike to fold his arms against his chest. 

With the help of Theresa, Marcus places the child into Mikes awaiting arms, making the man suck in a breath while keeping his unsure eyes on the sleeping baby. 

“I want him to have a last name that holds a good meaning behind it.... not bad.” Armando mutters, watching his father eyes water while gazing down softly at his new grandson in his arms. 

Releasing a breath of surprise Mike look towards Armando with a hesitant smile, "You sure.” Giving him a firm nod, he watches Mike smile brighten as he pulls him into a side hug, still being mindful of the baby in his arms. 

Moving away from the embrace he allows his father to have a moment with his grandbaby, while walking over to your resting form. Leaning forward he presses a sweet kiss against your forehead, keeping his eyes on your sleeping face before turning away at the sound of a knock.  

“The fuck are you doing here!” Dorn growls, tall muscular form blocking the view of the person away from everyone else.“Calm down beanstalk, I didn’t come to start any mess, I just wanted to speak with Y/N.” the person replied with annoyance. 

Frowning he walks away from your resting figure and towards the door, "Who is it?” he asked Dorn making the blonde hair man shift his attention to him with worry, while raising up his hands with caution. 

Hearing the voice call for you had him tilting his head to the side but frowning when he sees who it is. Before anyone could stop him Armando shoves Dorn to the side launching at Rafe, who wasn’t expecting the attack. 

Ignoring the calls of his name, he scowls at the man throwing quick punches while keeping a tight grip on his collar, “Maldito bastardo, ¿cómo te atreves a aparecer aquí?(You damn bastard, how dare you show up here?)” 

Before he could throw another punch, he feels multiple hands dragging him away from the man, body filled with pure fury, Armando attempts to pull away from the hands dragging him back. 

” Why the fuck is he here? I thought his ass was locked up!?!” Rafe snarled, slouching against the wall while wiping away the blood from his bleeding nose, before walking towards the room pissed. 

Pulling him back into the hospital room, Mike keeps Armando away from the door as the squad quickly drags Rafe towards the small waiting room and away from Armando furious eyes. 

Shooting awake you watch alarmed by the sudden commotion, franticly searching the room for your baby and before you could start panicking Christine walks over to give you your startled baby. 

 Hearing the cries of his son made him move away from Mike, quickly walking over to you with stressed eyes, "Mando, what's going on?” you questioned as Armando runs his hand through his hair, while shifting his conflicted gaze between yours and the baby who cries has settled down. 

Grabbing his hand you stare at his bruising knuckles concerned, "Don't worry about that, princess.” he states pressing a kiss on your hand before looking up at your concerned expression. 

Sighing he rubs at his frustrated face before muttering a name that leaves you shocked, "Rafe!?!......Why is he here?” you say rocking the cooing baby on your chest. 

“Didn’t give him a chance to speak.” Armando whispered keeping his eyes on the infant, and missing the way you stare at him with admiration.  

“If it wasn’t for little man and the fact that I just gave birth, you definitely would’ve gotten some." you say smirking when you see Armando raise his eyebrows at your words. 

Moving forward he gives you a kiss on the lips before pulling back with a smirk of his on, “I’ll just take your kisses for now.” 

Glancing back at the door, his jaw flexed as his grip on the bed rail tightens, making you place your hand on top of his, "Baby, look at me….what did you want to name him? 

Returning his gaze back to yours, his angry features relaxed at your words, mind now focused on thinking of a name.Rubbing his knuckles with your thumb you wait for his response, peering down at the infant who is snuggled against your chest. 

“My mother's name was Isabela……. what do you think about Isaiah?" Armando answered peering at you while waiting for your reply. 

Nodding in agreement, you give him a reassuring smile, "I like it Mando…. little Isaiah.” 

“Isaiah Matias Lowrey” he decided moving forward to pick him up, but hearing approaching footsteps made him turn back to look at the door. Seeing everyone and Rafe had him ready to swing but you grab his wrist making him peer back to see your worried face. 

“Before I was rudely interrupted with a punch," Rafe paused to glare at Armando who returned his gaze with the same intensity, "I wanted to say congratulations....and to bring a peace offering.” 

Scoffing at his words, Armando moves to hit him again but your voice and tight grip stops him, "I appreciate the kind gesture Rafe but it’s not needed; the peace offering your claiming to bring me has already been filled so please leave.” 

With a nod of his head, he pulls out a ring box, setting it on the counter before looking at your surprised gaze, "Like I said didn’t come here to start mess.... just thought you could pawn this to put towards the baby.” 

And with that he walks away leaving you shocked and Armando agitated as he walks forward grabbing the box and throwing it in the trash. 

“Aye boy, I know you mad as hell right now but that’s money you throwing away!" Marcus exclaimed from the door, making Armando curse angrily in Spanish while walking back to you. 

Picking up the baby, he moves to sit back in the recliner, muttering how his family don’t accept things from low life trash. 

////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////// 

With Armando still on the run he would visit every other month while keeping a low profile but that didn’t affect his growing relationship with you and his son.You always made sure to call and Facetime him keeping him updated on moments he misses while away.

When you both start to feel lonely you would stay on the phone talking with each other until you fall asleep or stay up looking through the portfolio with pictures of your reaction of Armando’s return and the birth of Isaiah.

Also, ever since Isaiah was born his weak bond with Mike has grown stronger making him grow to love the man he needed growing up.  

Even though he really didn’t have a choice since every time he came Marcus would force him to have a heart to heart with his father, muttering it helps heal the scars. 

Although he was very appreciative of Marcus for his relationship with his father, he was more grateful of him for bringing you into his life again. During his visits Armando enjoyed being a father to his son and a loving partner towards you......hopefully who he could call his fiancé, when he comes back to stay for good.

Before he would leave you and Isaiah, Armando always spends your last day together tangled in the sheets with you...... or at least attempting to when your 2-year-old wasn’t terrorizing your favorite Godparents and Midnight. 

Both groaning before laughing when you hear your phone ringing, had you two getting dressed to head towards the parking garage in your new apartment building; to meet Kelly and Dorn who had bags under their eyes while Dorn holds an energetic Isaiah who’s cheesing while saying dada which had you rolling your eyes in fake jealousy. 

Before he would leave Armando always spent some time talking with Isaiah while sitting on his bike causing you to take one of your favorite photos till this day. 

////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////

Author’s Note🎙️:I enjoyed writing this series so much,I’ll be going back over all the parts to actually revise and edit them😭.Until I decide to start writing again peace and love💖💖💖💖.

Also,leave some comments below if you think I should write some one-shot of the ammo squad✍️✍️✍️

[iluvapplesxh]

⧽⧽ Behind The Scenes III. ⧼⧼

❀ pair: billie eilish x fem!reader

✯ summary: After bringing you to safety in her new home, Billie makes the recklessly stupid decision to go out to a small shopping trip by herself in the companies of her bodyguards, but that turns like the best and the worst decision of her life.

✰ warnings: injury, hospital, paparazzi, shooting, guns, choking, death, swearing, mentions of blood, fluff at the end, !ENGLISH IS NOT MY FIRST LANGUAGE!

✯ part I, part II

✒ a/n: apologies for the late post! I just somehow couldn't get myself to write this, but I did it! (6k+ words)

It was so agonizing. The pain all over your body. It hurt all over and your head pounded especially loud, your ears picking up on the faint sounds of a beeping of some kind, maybe some words. Was someone talking? What the fuck is happening?

You slowly and, in all honesty, annoyedly peeled open your closed eyelids, thankful to whatever God that the room in which you were in had its blinds pulled in because otherwise you probably would have gone blind to top all things. 

You blinked a couple of times, taking deep breaths and looking around before all the memories came flooding into your head like a train crashing into another. Your heart beat faster and suddenly you were wide awake, sitting up which you regretted in that moment when a sharp pain shot through your side and your hand flew to cover the main source of the pain, a low but almost silent groan mixed with a grunt leaving your lips.

The realization of how dry both your mouth and throat have been almost made you choke on your breath, and you screwed your eyes shut when a small cough rocked your body, your hand pressing harder onto your side. 

“Hey, hey, be careful” 

The sudden rush of words came from the door which you’ve located in the left corner of the room and your head swiftly turned to look at the direction of the white entrance of what you recognized could be a hospital room and your confusion, panic filled eyes met with soft blue ones. Before you could say anything, she took hurried steps towards the uncomfortable bed you were now sitting on, arms stretched out and her hands soon were holding onto you, one of them gently pulling yours away from your bandaged side.

In her other hand was a bottle of water and your heart fluttered a little before alarms of scoldings and denial rang through your head, and you focused back on her creased eyebrows then her blue seas. 

Billie breathed in softly and held up the bottle to you, which you wordlessly took and uncapped before taking big gulps which earned you a dirty look from the woman next to you, but you ignored it and took a few more big sips before screwing the cap on the plastic bottle once more. 

“Thanks” You muttered out finally and a tender smile grew on Billie’s lips before her front teeth dipped into the lower part.

“How are you feeling?” The crease between her brows returned while her head tilted to the side the slightest bit, her hand never leaving yours which made your heart rate pick up again. And the action doesn’t go unnoticed by the heart monitor next to your bed, the beeping growing speedier and your cheeks heat when you see Billie’s eyes leave yours to confusedly glance towards the device before meeting yours again.

“Uh…-” You began after the small awkward silence. “I’m okay-...I think” 

Your words weren’t calming at all, but Billie decided to just nod subtly before taking a deep breath, her hand reluctantly letting go of yours as she took a step back and folded her arms over her chest.

“The doc said they’ll do a checkup when you wake and if everything’s okay, we can go home” She stated and her eyes stuck gazing into yours, making you lose yourself in them a little, almost missing her words before your head bobbed up and down, nodding. 

There was another long moment of silence, and your head quickly filled with questions about a lot of things. How long has it been? Did they find him yet? Did she see him? Why is she here? Where is he?

“Why’re you here?” The question left your mouth quietly, like you were afraid that the question would break the peace of the moment.

Billie sighed and dropped her arms to her sides, shifting on her feet. “I mean, you were attacked in my house…” Her gaze fell from yours almost as if she was nervous or embarrassed. “And-...kind of nobody came when I called. We-...well Finneas came by yesterday. He dropped off some clothes for me and food” 

When she began rambling your eyes narrowed in confusion before a small exhalation of a choked breath left your mouth and you nodded. “Right” You muttered under your breath, your tongue running along the inside of your cheek. “Thanks. For being here” 

Billie’s eyes lifted again and softened more when she saw your expression. She took a small step forward again. “Yeah, of course. Why wouldn’t I be here?” She asked, because she knew that even if she wouldn’t have been there that night, she would have raced to you the moment she heard something.

Your gazes met again and there was a knowing look in your eyes to which a small, almost inaudible scoff left Billie before her head shook and there were a few seconds of stillness. “We’ll talk about everything when this shit is over, okay?” Her words almost sounded like a promise, but you knew better than to believe your own mind right now. Maybe if we talk at least, we’d stay friends

Although you knew that proposition was just hanging on by a small tinge of hope, you wanted to believe that it was true. Because if it wasn’t, it meant you would probably have to live your life without her in it and looking into that future, it didn’t seem right.

When you nodded your head, the door of the small room opened again and the doctor which you assumed Billie was talking about walked in with a soft, kind smile on his bearded face.

“Great to see you’re awake, miss” He said with a gentle look in his eyes when he approached the two of you. “My name is Dr. Hart” He extended his right hand, and you slowly did the same, giving his gruff hand a firm shake before pulling back.

– 

After Dr. Hart successfully finished up your check up, and signed the sign out papers, you were free to go. You sat in the wheelchair, now in your normal clothes which Billie had admitted to getting for you after borrowing your apartment keys a couple days prior when you were still unconscious, she was behind the chair, pushing it in silence as your eyes darted around the unfamiliar surroundings of the hospital hallways.

Finally, when the two of you made it out and arrived at Billie’s car which she had close to the entrance of the building, you just about got out of the wheelchair when the blinding flashes and lights of cameras almost took away the light of your world as seemingly hundreds of press employees and paparazzies surrounded the black SUV and, of course, you and Billie.  

“Fucking hell” You hear Billie mutter then the warm feeling of her arms wrapping around you made your breath hitch. “Come on, get in.” Her breath tickled your ear as she leaned close to your ear, then one of her arms left your body and opened the back door of the car, gently pushing against your back. 

The now muffled screamed questions of the reporters made your head pound once more as you watched Billie quickly being ushered into the car next to you by one of her bodyguards before he also hopped into the car in the passenger seat. 

You could see through the dark tinted windows how the security guards from the hospital had begun to push against the crowd, trying to make way for the SUV to leave.

You exhaled softly and leaned back against the seat you were in, one of your shaky hands reaching up to grasp onto the strap of the belt, pulling on it before grasping the latch plate and shifting in your seat, bringing it down beside you and fastening it inside the buckle with a soft breath of a grunt and when the soft clicking sound reached your ears, you leaned back in your seat again.

“You okay?” 

Your head turned to the side, eyes locking with Billie’s. “Yeah-...” You say, a little breathlessly. ���I didn’t expect…all of this” You said and your eyes left hers, instead gazing at the slowly fading crowd, meaning the security guards were succeeding.

“Hm” Billie pursed her lips as her eyes followed your line of sight. “I should have thought about this before just bringing you out. I’m sorry.” Her words made your head turn back to her again, brows knitted together.

“What?” Disbelief tinted your question, and your head tilted a little to the left. “No, you couldn’t have known-...”

“Of course, I could have. I’ve been doing this a long time” Billie swallowed harshly and buckled her own belt when she saw the bright, orange light of the streetlamp next to the Hospital’s sign by the road, meaning the way’s been cleared. 

Your teeth bit down on your tongue, feeling like there was no argument with that and you took a deep breath, hearing your heartbeat in your ears at the sudden silence in the car.

–

You didn’t really pay any attention to where the SUV was heading, instead having chosen to stare at the gray carpet by your feet. So, when the car came to a halt and your eyes finally lifted, settling on the metal gates being lit up by vehicle’s headlights, your head filled with confusion.

“Uh, where are we?” You spoke finally, turning to Billie who was sitting in silence until now.

“Oh, right.” Despite the very uncomfortable situation, a small -almost cocky- smirk grew on her face and she slid lower on her seat, hands hanging loosely between her spread legs. “My house.” 

The crease on your forehead grew and you blinked. “Uh, no…this is not your house.” You shook your head, looking ahead again as the gates opened and the car began moving again. “And also, I thought you were taking me home? To- to my house? So, you wouldn’t be in danger” Anger and worry laced your voice, and your eyes glanced back at Billie.

Billie took a sharp breath and ran her tongue along the left side of her cheek. “First of all, I never said I’d leave you alone. Not now.” She muttered; expression hard before it softened again. “And also, I bought a new-...safer house right after you were treated. For my own safety and for your own since you will be staying here until that…-” Her eyes darkened and her jaw clenched. “Asshole is behind bars.”

Your head shook in disbelief. “Billie, you don’t understand!” Your voice grew somewhat desperate and frustrated. “Being with me is not safe for you!” 

Billie swallowed hard and her tongue darted out, moistening her drying lips before she spoke. “No, you don’t understand!” She said harshly, her gaze averting from yours for a moment when the car stopped on the end of the driveway and the bodyguards got out. “I won’t ever leave you like this, okay? No matter what the fuck happened or didn’t happen-...” Her eyes softened. “I just want you to be safe…”

Your own face eased and there was a minute of stillness, just the two of you gazing into each other’s eyes. You didn’t need words to talk. You never did with her. The both of you knew each other like the back of one’s hand.

Then, a simple nod from you and she was out of the car, turning back around to hold out a hand for you to take. Your heart almost melted at the small gesture and a lump formed in your throat, gaze stuck on the extended tattooed hand before you teared it away and unbuckled your belt, sliding towards the opened door and taking the soft hand. 

Billie slowly helped you out of the car and -much to both of your dismays- her hand left yours, pushing the opened door closed. Then she stood next to you and the two of you began walking towards the front doors.

When you reached them, Billie pushed them open with a soft grunt. Then she turned to the side, her eyes looking into yours before darting to the inside of the house then they met yours again. You took the signal and stepped forward, the unfamiliar warmth of the new place engulfing your body.

You heard the doors shut behind you before Billie was standing next to you again. “So, there are 2 guest bedrooms.” She paused, biting down on the flesh of her bottom lip. “I think…”

A small smile spread on your lips at her unsure knowledge about her new home and your eyes took in the sight of her side profile, tracing the sharp contour of her jawline before darting to her nose then her cheek and then your staring and Billie’s thinking was broken by a deep but not unkind voice from behind the both of you in the hallway.

“Hey, guys!” 

The both of you turned around, Billie’s face lighting up into a grin while yours turned into one of slight confusion when your eyes laid on Finneas walking towards the two of you, a gray button up hanging on his upper body and a checkered pair of pants clinging to his waistline. 

“I’m surprised you made it out of there.” He spoke again when he reached the both of you. And due to the puzzled looks from you and Billie, he elaborated; “It was all over the news.” 

A small ‘oh’ fell form Billie’s lips next to you while you only nodded, suddenly feeling very awkward in Finneas’ presence considering the two of you haven't spoken or seen each other since that day after the breakup at the airport. 

The thought made your throat tighten up and you cleared it, sadly gaining Finneas’ attention. He looked back at his sister for a moment who shook her head and Finneas sighed softly before shooting you a small smile.

“Is Claudia here, too?” Billie asked, glancing down the lit-up hallway.

“Yeah, in one of the guest rooms” Finneas replied, nodding his head. “Mom and dad will be here soon, too.” He continued.

Billie nodded and your brows furrowed, finally daring to speak up. “Uh, no offense, but why?” 

Both of the siblings turned to you, and it was Billie who answered your question after a small second of silence. “I just figured it would be best. I mean, the guy figured out where I lived. I couldn’t take any chances” 

You noticed how she tried to play her worry for her family off, but you saw right through it and the smile returned to your face, nodding. “Alright” 

–

After the small conversation by the entrance of this much bigger house compared to what Billie had previously, you were led to one of the other guest rooms -which you learned there were three of- and were very reluctantly left alone by Billie in it.

It was when you were finally alone that the worrisome thoughts came back into your mind. The uneasiness in your chest made you sit down on the twin bed in the middle of the room, and you could have sworn your side started to hurt more at the thoughts -or maybe the painkillers were just wearing off-.  

You knew that you really shouldn’t be as worried as before, this house was big and safe. He didn’t even know it existed. But then again, he did somehow find out where Billie lived previously, and that you were there. 

The images of what had happened flashed quickly before your eyes and your breath caught in your throat before you swallowed thickly and got up, deciding to take a hot shower.

After getting the towel which was folded on the bed and some of the clothes also laid out on it -no doubt Billie’s which made your heart race for a different reason than fear-, you walked into the bathroom attached to the room and rid yourself of the clothes Billie brought for you to the hospital. When your gaze found its way on the mirror above the sink, your eyes burned holes into your bandaged side and a sigh escaped your mouth at the tingling pain you felt with every twist of your torso.

After successfully and painfully tearing off the bandages as gently as you could, you didn’t dare give a second glance at the wound on your side, you just stepped into the shower and began washing your body.

When you were done, you got out, dried yourself up and put on the underwear and shorts you were given. Then you walked out of the bathroom with the T-shirt in one of your hands, the small medical kit which was placed on the counter next to the sink in the other. 

You tossed the T-shirt on the bed and stood next to it, opening up the box of medical supplies and taking out the needed things. Then you sat down on the plush mattress and one of your arms circled under your bare breasts, pulling them out of view of your wound and you groaned softly when your body twisted to the side, the skin around the gash stinging sharply. 

Your free hand held the soft cloth with the disinfectant on it above it, hesitantly bringing it down with a deep breath. The sting was not as bad as your head had previously told you it was going to be, and you exhaled loudly, pressing the cloth firmer against your side before pulling it back then pressing it there again.

The peaceful silence of the guest room was broken by a knocking on the door and your body tensed, causing your grip on the cloth to tighten and press hard against your side. A hiss left your mouth and your eyes screwed shut.

“It’s Billie.” A soft, seemingly angelic voice called from the other side of the door. “Can I come in?”

Your body relaxed at the sound and your eyes opened, taking in her words. You looked down at your half-naked body, the cloth now hovering over your wound and your thinking stopped for a moment. Was it clear that you couldn’t do this alone? Absolutely. Were you going to let Billie of all people help you with it? Absolutely not. 

 You weren’t ready for her to see you like this, so vulnerable and…wounded. Looking like a kicked puppy. It was humiliating. 

Well, as it turned out you were pondering for too long, and Billie grew quite worried by your silence. She quickly pushed the door open and when her eyes found your figure sitting on the bed with your back turned to her, her breathing calmed just for a moment before her eyes took you in and it hitched.

Your head whipped around quickly, and your heart jumped into your throat at the look on her face and you turned back just as fast. 

Billie’s eyes left your form and fell onto the bed you’re sitting on, looking over the medical supplies and her mind filled with worry rather than the acknowledgment of your state and she walked closer to you.

“Can I…-” She spoke softly, her eyes strained onto the wound on your side. “Can I help?” 

Heat bloomed in your chest and your arm tightened around your body as you looked up at her before sighing softly and nodding. Your hand which was hovering over your side extended and Billie slowly took the wet disinfectant drenched cloth and took a seat on your right.

The somewhat awkward tension in the room was palpable and it sent a hot shiver down your spine, or maybe it was the fact that Billie was leaning close to you, her hand dapping the cloth against your side while you felt her breath on your skin, that caused it.

A minute later, one of her hands rested against your hip bone, probably accidentally since you didn't notice any change in her focused expression, and the other was mindfully wrapping the bandage around your torso.

You could feel the heat in the air grow by the seconds that Billie was spending focused on taking care of you. Just like she had done so many times before and then after you would smile and kiss her as a ‘thank you’ before the two of you cuddled up in each other’s embraces on her bed or the couch. But not this time, no, when she straightened up with one last touch on your bandaged side, a respectful distance was created between you two again while she packed up the supplies and you wordlessly pulled the T-shirt over your head, letting it hang loosely on your body. 

Billie soon shifted further away from you on the bed to put the box on the bedside table and your teeth nibbled on the flesh of the inside of your cheek, your feelings all over the place.

You swallowed hard and took a deep breath, deciding to be the first to speak up. “Thanks” The words were muttered and quiet, but Billie caught them, and she turned back to you, pressing her lips into a thin line as she nodded.

“You’re welcome”

You looked away from her and a long exhale left you. You placed your hands on your knees. “Why-...uh why did you come?” 

Billie was silent for a moment, trying to read your body language before she folded her arms. “I was just going to check on you.” She said simply. “Oh, and also my mum made some dinner, if you’re hungry” 

You took in her words, and nausea swirled in your gut at the mention of eating right now. You felt like you had no appetite whatsoever. Your head was still far in the gutter of what had happened. 

Back at the hospital you had caught a glimpse of a television in one of the rooms, the news was on, and it was flooded with your name, some even mentioning Billie’s.

“I’m not.” You said lastly, not looking at her and instead carrying on staring at the pulled in curtains.

Billie smacked her lips, her jaw clenching as her eyes didn’t leave you until she stood up. “Alright.” She said with a sigh. “We’ll be downstairs for a little while longer, if you need anything.” 

When she saw you nod your head, she took a couple steps towards the door, her hand pulling it open by the handle and she cast one last lingering worried glance towards you before she stepped out and the door shut behind her.

-

It was a couple hours later, which was around 9PM, that you emerged from the guest room. You hesitantly took the large flight of stairs downstairs, following the sound of voices to the living room of the house. 

When you arrived at the entrance, your eyes scanned over the room. You saw Finneas and Claudia sitting close to each other in the loveseat while Maggie and Patrick were sitting on the sofa, all having a seemingly pleasant conversation. But your heart beat faster when you looked around the whole room and you didn’t find the comforting presence of the one person who you felt like actually wanted you here.

And unfortunately, when you turned back around to make your way back upstairs, Maggie’s voice stopped you with a call of your name and your breath hitched. Your jaw clenched and you turned back towards them, seeing all of their eyes on you, Maggie had a soft expression on her face, Patrick was looking at you with a kind smile and both Finneas and Claudia were looking at you a little skeptical but not unkindly.

“Would you like to sit with us, sweetie?” Maggie spoke up again and your eyes locked with hers. 

“Oh-...uh, no thanks, Ms. Braid.” You spoke quietly and pressed your hands together behind your back.

Maggie smiled at you softly and nodded. There was a pause in the air before she parted her lips to speak again. “Billie went out for some stuff for you” 

Her words made you freeze, and you felt dizzy all of a sudden. “Alone?” Your voice trembled slightly.

Patrick butted in; “Don’t worry, hon, bodyguards are with her. “ The smile never left his face, but it did little to ease the thumping against your sternum. 

“Yeah, but-...” You took a ragged breath and placed a palm against your chest. Maggie, taking sign of your panic, swiftly stood up and walked over to you, wrapping her arms around you.

“It’s okay, sweetheart. She’ll be okay” Her hands rubbed your arms comfortingly. “There was nothing to argue about when she said she wanted to go out for more supplies.”

You shook your head. This was your fault again. 

–

Meanwhile, Billie sat in the same SUV which took the two of you home a couple hours before. Two of her best bodyguards sat in the front seats and one next to her in the backseat. She had a plastic bag of supplies in her lap, both hands placed on top of it as her eyes followed along the road through the tinted window.

A minute later, the car came to a stop by a gas station and Billie’s eyebrows knitted together in confusion. She looked at the man next to her and he offered a small smile. 

“We stopped for gas, Ms. O’Connell”

Billie breathed out a puff of air, the small knot which began forming in her gut previously untying as she nodded. “I’m going to use the restroom” She told him, unbuckling her belt and placing the plastic bag down on the car’s floor.

“Would you like me to come with you, Ms.?” The bodyguard asked, slight worry in his tone and Billie smiled at him before she shook her head.

“No, it’s okay. I’ll be quick” 

With that, she stepped out of the car and shut the door after her. She rounded the SUV and sent a small wave at the other two guards outside it, one of them filling the car with gas while the other stood watch. She walked into the dimly lit station and looked around in slight confusion at the lack of the cashier by the counter before shrugging and striding across the small store. She walked to the back door which led to the restroom and pushed it open, making way to the women’s bathroom.

When she was inside, she looked around. Silence was all that greeted her, and she took in a deep breath before walking into an empty stall and locking it.

When she sat down on the toilet seat, she exhaled loudly and relaxed a little. But her body tensed once more when the entrance door of the bathroom opened again, and footsteps followed the sound soon after. Loud thuds of boots against the marble floors and soon the door slammed shut, making Billie flinch a little. She held her breath as the person took slow steps in front of the stalls and her heartbeat in her ears when she saw the shadow of the boots stop right before the door of the stall she was in. Then the person turned and walked into the stall next to hers and Billie let out the breath she was holding.

Billie stood up, flushed and hastily tugged up the baggy jeans she was wearing, making quick work of buckling her belt before she unlocked the stall and stepped out. She took anxious glances around the premise before stepping towards the sinks and opening one of the taps. She held hands out and wetted them under the stream of water before one of them reached up to the dispenser of the liquid soap. She held her wet palm under the soap pump and her thumb moved to press down on it. After a couple of tries an annoyed huff left her lips when nothing came from the dispenser, and she muttered under her breath.

“Of course,”

Her frustrated muttering froze when the stall door next to the one she was in opened and the sounds of boots nearing made her pulse quicken.

Her movements froze as well, and she just stood there while the person took place next to her. 

“Hm, crappy bathrooms in this city, huh?” 

The voice made her throat tighten in fear. It was a gruff, deep male voice. In the women’s restroom. And she swallowed hard before nodding her head. When she heard a derisive chuckle from the man, she shakily stopped the running water and looked up. The man had dark hair, a messy, thick beard, and a mustache. He was wearing a brown jacket and a white shirt, and he had a few wrinkles around his eyes and forehead. The man appeared to be in his 30s or 40s. 

“Uh, sir, this is the women’s restroom” Billie finally spoke up, trying to keep the shakiness out of her voice as the man basically towered over her. 

“Oh, I know” The man said, his voice having a slight edge to it. Then a smirk appeared on his face, and he ran a hand down his beard. “I think you know who I am” He said lowly and Billie’s expression hardened, taking a step back.

“Oh? Are you scared now?” Another dark chuckle came from his mouth as he took a step toward Billie. 

“What the fuck do you want from me, dude?” She asked, her voice laced with anger and her teeth grit together.

The man’s smirk spread into a grin; his eyes dark. “I don’t like how close you are to what’s mine…” He began and tilted his head to the side, his grin falling. “And since plan A didn’t go as planned…” Billie continued to glare at the man. “Time for plan B” When the words left his mouth, he pushed forward and threw Billie against the dirtied wall of the restroom.

Air was knocked out of her lungs as her back collided with the wall and the man stepped close to her. Just as she was about to gather her breath, a large rough hand wrapped tightly around her throat and her own hands frantically came up to wrap around his wrist.

She struggled against his grip, pushing with all her strength when she suddenly froze to the sound of a loud click and something cool against the side of her head. Billie’s eyes widened and she looked at the man in panic, her lungs desperately searching for air while her heart thumped loudly against her ribcage.

Her sight became blurry, and she could see the man’s mouth moving but she couldn’t hear anything, blood rushing in her ears. When she felt the gun press against the side of her head harder a cry left her lips and she screwed her eyes shut.

She heard the man’s distorted chuckle one last time before a loud bang echoing through the restroom cut it off. Her ears began ringing loudly and then suddenly the pressure of the big hand around her throat flattered and her eyes opened. She looked down and saw the man on the ground, blood pooling underneath him as he coughed.

She felt dizzy and her throat hurt as she looked to the side and saw one of her bodyguards standing by the door, gun gripped tightly in his hands, his own gaze stuck on the man on the floor who was now chuckling quietly, the blood gathering in his throat making them sound choked.

Billie stayed pressed against the wall until the bodyguard came over and gently wrapped an arm around her shoulders, turning her away as they walked out of the restroom, leading her out of the gas station store to see the blinding lights of police cars paint the whole station red and blue, and somehow there were even some press around with cameras on their shoulders and microphones in hands, screaming while being held back by police.

Some of the officers rushed past them into the store while Billie was led to an ambulance.

– 

Panic was all over your body as your body stood frozen in the middle of the living room. All of your gazes were on the television in front of you and tears sprung to your eyes at the headline;

‘Popstar, Billie Eilish, attacked by her ex-girlfriend’s stalker at local gas station’

Your body moved on its own, mind hazy as you quickly rushed out of the room and to the front doors, trembling hands reaching into the bowl of car keys on the dresser next to them. You didn’t give a fuck about what car it was you took the keys for, you just took one and ran out the doors, pushing the button on the remote key, your head turning all around the place hastily when a pair of headlights on a random car in the driveway lit up and you quickly made your way over to it.

You all but ripped the door open and jumped into the driver’s seat, starting the engine and driving to the already open gates as fast as you can and speeding down the streets.

You didn’t even know which gas station it happened at. You just hoped that you were right about driving towards the closest one to Billie’s house. Your mind was a mess as you repeatedly blinked back your tears. Your chest hurt and you felt sick to your stomach the whole drive.

When you finally saw the red and blue lights flashing near you, you drove even faster and stopped just as fast behind a police car, the abrupt stop making your body jolt forward but you didn't care, you just pushed the door open quickly and jumped out of the car. You didn’t even bother shutting the door, you just ran through the crowd of reporters and such, pushing through them without a fucking care if they fell over ot not. 

When you reached the edge of the crowd, a police officer stood in front of you but you just pushed against his chest, making hims tumble back as you ran to the site, hearing some shouts and callings for you but you didn’t stop until your eyes finally found her, sitting on the back on the ambulance with an unreadable expression on her face as the paramedic explained something to her.

You raced towards her and when you were finally in front of her, she looked up and your gazes met. Her eyes were red and fearful as they looked into yours and your heart shattered into a million different pieces at the sight. Your chest now hurt for two different reasons and you felt slightly dizzy but that didn’t stop you from dropping to your knees. Billie caught your arms, making you fall into her. 

Your arms wrapped around her, clinging to her desperately as your tears finally fell. Her hold on you tightened and she shifted in her seat, brushing off the small blanket which was around her back and pulling you into her. Her own eyes burned with tears but she shut them as she pressed her cheek against the top of your head.

“It’s okay. I’m okay” Billie whispered softly while sobs rocked your body. “He’s gone. He’s gone” Her reassuring words made you cry harder, relief flooding your entire body.

The two of you held each other for a little longer before you stood again, and she followed you. Her hands lifted to cup your cheeks, her thumbs wiping the tears on your skin.

Then her hands fell and your own lifted, one of them placed on her right shoulder and the index finger of the other tremblingly hovering over the red mark around her throat. Billie took a deep breath and gasped your hand, bringing up to her lips and pressing it against them. 

Your eyes met again and she pulled your hand away, letting it fall on her other shoulder before she leaned in. Not leaving room for overthinking, or any thoughts or words at all. She didn’t care right now. It was over.

When you felt her soft lips press against your trembling ones you breathed in sharply through your nose, body tensing up. But then her hands held onto your waist and you relaxed, kissing her back. 

The kiss was filled with emotion, longing and hundreds of apologies. Your chest filled with warmth and your arms wrapped loosely around her neck, tugging her closer.

It felt right. It felt like nothing ever happened or maybe even if it did this one kiss sealed the happy ending of it. You felt at home again. In her arms. And she felt the same. She felt safe and calm, finally having you in her arms again. And there was no fucking way she’ll let you go ever again.

✒ a/n: I so, so hate how this turned out btw. but am I gonna post it anyway? fuck yeah! the endings are always so shit i'm gonna kms.

REQUESTS OPEN!

➣ tags: @be3flow3r