#<- he deserves a tag too it counts okay

[le0sulfurous]

Book 7 appreciation post illustration redraws and stuff I love that book (spoilers obviously)

[lieslab]

I love you

꘎♡━━━━━♡꘎ ꘎♡━━━━━♡꘎

Pairing: Og8 X gn reader

Summary: When the public finds out you're dating your boyfriend, the fans have a lot to say.

Genre: Fluff

Word Count: 4.7K

A/N: I have to admit, to whomever requested this, I made this a lot more fluffy and lighthearted than I was originally going to. Some of these are a little more serious than others, but I layered a few jokes in, so I hope it makes you laugh. No matter if you date a k-pop idol or not, some opinions of people are just that; opinions (stupid and irrelevant) Live your best life and do what makes you happy <3

_ _ _

Chan: 

“I could really use some inspiration,” Chan called over his shoulder. “So if you find yourself growing bored or getting cold or-” 

“Not interested,” you mumbled. You took another sip of your drink and continued scrolling through your phone. You didn’t bother to look up when you responded. 

Ever since Dispatch released a photo of you and Chan, the fandom was in shambles. Half of them were defending you and the other half was planning ways to end your life. Chan told you to ignore what people said, but it was about impossible to ignore when your social media accounts were being bombed every few seconds.

Every refresh sent new hate tweets and every time you opened Instagram, you were tagged in more and more photos. You had to turn off your Insta comments because they were flooded with hate. Ever since it happened, you’d been glued to your phone. Every new hate comment was another chip at your heart. 

Chan was sitting at his laptop and working on stringing the vocals of another song together. Most of the song was being arranged by another producer, but he wanted the beginning to sound a certain way. Chains clanked, a certain whistle sounded, and then the bass dropped. 

He’d been working at it for over an hour and he was expecting you to come curl into his lap like you usually did, but as time went on, you stayed behind him on the studio couch. He tried to focus, but it was driving him insane, he just wanted you for five minutes. You were too busy with your nose in your phone to notice. 

He finally shut his laptop, stretched his arms above his head, and he let out a groan. He leaned back and kicked his feet to push him away from the desk. At any time, you’d take notice, rush over, and practically jump on him, but you didn’t. 

He waited five seconds and then ten. Thirty trickled into forty and then he scraped his foot along the floor to face you. “Okay, what’s got you so obsessed that you can’t even look at me? You’ve been on your phone for so long. Did you find someone else to replace me?” 

You finally glanced over at his voice. Your head slightly shook and you hesitated, but clicked your phone off. “I haven’t, but maybe you should find someone else to replace me. The fans are saying that you’re out of my league.” 

“Those that are saying that aren’t my fans. Those are cunts that will-” 

“You can’t call your fans cunts, Chan.” 

“It’s the Aussie way!” 

“It’s the way to get your ass in trouble if management hears you.” 

“And that’s why they’re not here and it’s just us.” He opened his arms and sat back in his chair. “Come here. Come give me the love that I deserve. Let me love you.” 

Your face softened as you stared at him. His hands clinked as he made grabby hands in your direction. “Come on! You know you want me. You want me soooo bad.” 

“You’re a child, I swear.” You let your phone lay, placed your beverage on the coffee table, and headed over to him. 

He giggled, wrapped his arms around your waist, and jerked you onto his lap. You barely had time to understand it before you were straddling his lap. He cooed and squeezed you tightly as he slightly rocked back and forth in the chair. 

“Who’s the cutest of them all? You are. Who’s the prettiest and the best? You are.” 

“You’re talking to me the exact way you talk to Berry.” 

“And that’s why I know that you secretly love it. You always get cuteness aggression when I do that, don’t you?” He reached up and gently squeezed your cheeks in his hands. A baby voice slipped out and his dimpled smile grew. 

You couldn’t help, but burst into laughter as the tip of his nose bumped yours and he gently tickled the sides of your torso.  _ _ _ 

Minho: 

“Are you praying or meditating?” Minho asked as he joined you at the breakfast table. A plate of scrambled eggs and toast was sat down in front of you. “You should finish quickly, preferably before your food gets cold.” 

Your hands were clenched tight and you sat straight up in the wooden chair. Your nostrils flared as you sucked in a deep breath through your nose and let it out through your mouth. Your eyes remained shut as you finally spoke. 

“I’m sending out a message to whatever grand and divine divinity is listening out there.” 

“That’s new for you.” He grabbed a fork and scooped up a pile of yellowed eggs. “So enlighten me, what made you find religion at seven in the morning?” He took the bite and began to chew. 

“May God give me the strength to not tell Minho’s fans to sit on my middle finger and swivel.” 

He stopped chewing and his eyes grew wide. Your own eyes opened and met him. For a brief moment, the two of you held eye contact. It was quickly ruined by Minho’s bubbly laughter turning into a choke. Bits of half-chewed scrambled eggs hit your face and your look of disgust only made him laugh harder. 

He swallowed the remnants, grabbed his napkin, leaned over the table, and wiped the moist bits away. “I’m so sorry, but you shouldn’t have said that while I was chewing. You could have waited until I swallowed.” 

“This is their fault too.” 

“What could they have possibly done to make you so enraged at this early in the morning?” 

“One of your so-called fans went viral on TikTok. Take a guess as to why that was.” Your arms crossed over your chest and you scowled. 

“Why?” 

“Because they lurked on my Instagram and found a post that I posted two years ago. You know how I regularly volunteer at the animal shelter?” He hummed softly. “Well, they found that post and they found the caption where I admitted that I was a dog person!” 

“And?” 

“They’re ripping me to shreds for it! They’re claiming that we’re not compatible because I’m a dog person! Who does that? And they’re all on TikTok like-” Your voice grew high-pitched as you began to mock the comments that you recounted in your head. 

He stared at you and a fond smile appeared on his face. Too engaged in your discourse, you didn’t realize how silly you sounded. You went on and on and on until he stopped you. “Are you done yet?” 

You huffed and threw yourself back in your seat. “Yes. No. Maybe. I don’t know.” 

“Definitely a dog person. If a cat person was in your situation, we just would have posted photos with more cats to piss them off more.” 

“You’re not helping.” 

“I didn’t ever imply I was going to help the situation. That’s called comedy. I might go on Bubble and agree with them. What about that?” 

You glared at him and all he could do was chuckle. Without missing a beat, your middle finger went up. “Sit and swivel.”

“You first, sweetheart.” 

_ _ _ 

Changbin: 

“And you know what they say,” Changbin whispered as his eyes drooped. “A chicken breast a day keeps the muscles swole and slay.” Half asleep, his words turned into utter nonsense. 

Meanwhile, your hands were on your cheeks in the bathroom attached to your bedroom. With the door wide open, you weren’t really paying attention to his words. You were focused on pulling your eyebrows up and pushing your nose down. 

“Changbin?” 

“No, Hyunjin hasn’t bought me my diamond ring yet.” 

“Huh?”

He blinked and jerked upright in bed. His sleepy eyes found you leaning against the bathroom door frame with a frown on your face. “What did you say?” 

“I called your name. Do my facial features look weird to you? Ever since the news broke about us dating, they keep calling me ugly. That’s the one prominent thing they keep commenting on.” 

You glanced back to the bathroom mirror with a deepened frown. “Are my eyebrows the issue?” You stepped back inside, stood to the side, and sighed. A finger brushed down the slope of your nose. “Maybe that’s the issue?” 

“No, Felix, you can’t crawl in my muscles and live inside of them forever.” 

Your eyebrows narrowed as you jerked your head back to the room. Changbin’s head tipped down to his chest and his messy black hair sat in every direction. “What did you say about Felix?” 

He groaned, his head jerked up, and he rubbed his eyes. “What about the fans?” 

“They keep calling me ugly.” 

“WHAT?” He kicked and scrambled, nearly tangling within the blankets trying to get up. The sound of a loud thud sent you running back to the entrance to check on him. 

When you peered around the frame, he was pushing himself off the floor. “No, no, no!” Both of his fingers wagged as he marched in your direction. “I won’t stand for that kind of nonsense! Ugly? Maybe their personalities are ugly and just plain RUDE.” 

“But they keep-” 

“Nuh-uh.” He placed a hand on your hip and spun you around to face the bathroom. “I don’t care what they say. They’re not dating you and that means that their opinions are irrelevant.” 

He bent down and scooped you up. Your arm went behind your head and you allowed him to carry you back to bed. He bent down, pulled down the blankets, and gently laid you down. “The two of us are going to bed because we’re sleepy and you know what?”

“What?” 

“When people are sleepy, the opinions of others start to matter.” He pulled the sheet over you and then a blanket. “We don’t like when that happens, do we?” His head shook. “No we don’t, so we get some sleep.” 

“Are you gentle parenting me, right now?” 

 “Shush.” He patted the top of your forehead fondly and added another blanket. Another blanket was followed by a final blanket and he stood back to take in the scene. 

You were covered up your chin with all the heavy bedding. He nodded, walked towards you, and pressed a soft kiss on your forehead. “And what do we do when we’re sleepy and the opinions of others start to affect us?” 

“We go to sleep, I think.” 

“Do you know why?” 

Your head shook. 

“Because we don’t take criticism from people that we’d never go to for advice. That includes meaningless conversations online from faceless accounts. Sleeping also helps reset the brain, so when we can wake up, we can feel fresh and rejuvenated.” 

“I like that quote.” 

He hummed, walked around the bed, and crawled next to you. A hand shifted beneath your back and he tugged your body against his. “I like that quote too. Now please, go to sleep.” 

“What’d you say earlier about Hyunjin not buying you a ring yet?” 

“Shut up and sleep.” _ _ _ 

Hyunjin: 

“Babe, it’s not that serious.” 

Your heart clenched at the words and you swallowed the hurt in your throat. You stared at the phone in your hand, clicked it off, and gently laid it off to the side. Hyunjin just got home from work and all day, you’d been dealing with the aftermath of your relationship leaking to the public. 

Horrible and terrible things were being said about you. You tried not to let it bother you, but things tended to be taken to heart. A few videos were leaked by fans who stumbled upon you and you and Hyunjin were in an argument over something stupid. The fans caught it on tape and since then, you’d been called a variety of curse words under the sun. 

“Do you think I’m flawed for taking things too seriously?” You asked after a wave of silence broke between you. “Because even your fans agree, just by one video, that I take things too seriously.” 

On the other end of the living room, his face fell. “I didn’t mean it like that. The argument that we were having, they don’t understand that we banter like that all the time. Just because you view life through a different lens, it doesn’t mean it’s a bad thing.” 

He pushed himself from the recliner and headed to your end of the couch. “I’m sorry for acting like it’s nothing. I’ve just learned that most fan discourse is to be ignored. They’re always assuming or seeing things that aren’t really there. It’s an endless void and if you let yourself drown in it, you’ll be miserable.”

“I didn’t consider that you’ve never dealt with issues like this before.” He plopped down beside you and tugged you into his lap. “Whatever they say and whatever stupidity that they come up with, it doesn’t define you. I wouldn’t be with you if I hated you.” 

“Their opinions are irrelevant and a lot of what you’re hearing, it’s anger from their own insecurities. You were meant for me and that’s just how it is. I’m not meant to live a life following the opinions of others and neither are you.” 

“My opinion was the right opinion,” you mumbled. “I just don’t see how they could agree with you over a stupid idea.” 

He playfully scoffed. “Nuh-uh! Mine was the right one.” 

“Who doesn’t like eggplants?” 

He groaned and threw up his hands in disbelief. He shoved you back towards the arm of the couch and threw himself onto his back. “BECAUSE WHY WOULD YOU? Were you born sick?” 

You’d keep fighting him about this topic, not necessarily because you loved eggplants, but because you liked watching his theatrical reactions. 

_ _ _ 

Han: 

“Okay, you’re not talking and it’s really starting to freak me out. What more do you want from me? Honey? You’re not chatting like you usually do.” 

“Yeah, I know.” You shrugged and let yourself relax against the porch swing. The metal frame had a canopy above it and the two of you were enjoying the last tendrils of the setting sun.

Milky pink, soft blue, and a dusting of fireball red swirled around the sky. Han was crisscrossed in his socks while he talked about his day. Usually, you’d be piping in with comments or asking him questions, but today, you just occasionally hummed. 

You focused on the sky and you let your feet gently sway your body back and forth. He continued rambling and rambling and rambling. Usually, the two of you bounced from topic-to-topic, but when you didn’t utter a word after his third story, he frowned. 

“Are you listening to me?” 

“Mmhm.” 

“Then why aren’t you talking? Are you mad at me?” 

Your eyes found his and your head shook. “No, I just thought you might like it better if I was quiet for once. I don’t always need to be saying things and interrupting your conversations. We always change directions and I thought it’d be nice for you to finish a story without you being distracted.” 

“But I love when the conversation diverts elsewhere and we talk about other things before coming back. It’s really fun and I like it.” 

“Do you really or are you just saying that to make me feel better?” 

He pushed himself to sit up and let his legs fall to the ground. “Why would I lie about that?” 

“Your fans think I’m too loud and too much. I guess I got worried that maybe you think that too. I get so happy and excited to talk to you. I don’t mean to be so loud, but I–” 

“Don’t ever apologize for existing loudly. I love knowing you exist and knowing that you want to interact with me. It’s one of my favorite parts of the day, so please never stop.” 

“You mean it?” You whispered softly. 

“With my whole entire heart.” He leaned closer and pressed his lips to yours. Your eyes slipped shut and you let your body relax. When he pulled away, his eyes twinkled beneath the fading rays of sunlight. “Can I do that again?” 

“Do you really have to ask?” 

He grinned and leaned forward to kiss you again. 

_ _ _ 

Felix: 

“Babe! Babe! Babe!” Felix burst into your room beaming. “I did it! I did it! I’m not bronze anymore! I finally got a higher rank!” 

Your eyes widened and you spun around in your gaming chair. On your head, your headphones sat on your ears and your microphone was on. You shot Felix a look of panic and his face fell. “Oh, shit,” he whispered. 

Dating the love of your life was easy, but it was harder when you earned your living by streaming gaming content and Felix was an idol. With such public lives, the two of you weren’t sure how to break the news. Felix wasn’t even sure if his company would allow it, so when he found a significant other, he just never told them. 

Awkwardly, he grimaced and backed out of the room. Your eyes squeezed shut as you internally cursed and spun yourself back to face the ongoing livestream. 

“IS THAT FELIX FROM STRAY KIDS?” 

“If the fans don’t kill you first, jyp will.” 

“Holy FUCK, when did that happen?” 

“And if I said that never happened and the stream glitched?” You laughed nervously and tried to play it off. Your eyes went back to your game and you tried to breathe and not panic, but it wasn’t working. 

It didn’t help that when you glanced over, the chat was being filled with hate. People were fuming about you having a significant other. Others were fans of Stray Kids and they were pissed off that you of all people were dating their favorite idol. 

“So how about we talk about something else? Like how you guys have been doing or literally anything else?” You forced a laugh, but it didn’t help. More and more comments were rolling in. 

When you caught wind of more hatred, you blinked rapidly, trying not to cry. Not to mention, the level you were playing, your character kept dying. Too shaken up by the events, your fingers weren’t as quick as they usually were. 

After about five minutes of torture, the door to your room flung open and caused you to jump. You glanced back over your shoulder to find an angry Felix striding into the room. Before you could stop him, he pulled your chair away from your camera set up. 

“Okay, that’s it, it’s me.” He got on his knees, so he was in the camera frame. “I’d really appreciate it if you wouldn’t be mean to my significant other in the gaming chat. They’ve worked so hard to get to this point and I don’t think it’s fair that you’re making this about me now.”

“Felix, you don’t have to-” 

“Do you know how hard it is to date a gamer when you’re stuck on bronze?” He continued. 

“You should date someone with a real job.” 

Felix read the comment and frowned. Without missing a beat, he responded. “And I think you should get a real life instead of hiding behind a screen with a Skibidi Toilet profile picture.” 

You gently placed a hand on his shoulder, reminding him that he didn’t have to do this. He reached up, gently placed his hand on top of yours, and squeezed you back. He didn’t have to do this, but he wasn’t going to let you deal with the masses alone. 

He thought the Skibidi Toilet meme was stupid, so it felt like knocking down two birds with one stone. 

_ _ _ 

Seungmin: 

“Are you going to take a break anytime soon? You’ve been busy for the past few hours and I told you that I was going to take you out to dinner.” 

“Could you give me another hour?” You glanced up from your spot on the floor. In your hand, a screwdriver and in the other hand, you were holding a shelf of a smaller book shelf that you were trying to put together. 

“Um…” Seungmin’s head tipped and he frowned. “Yeah, I guess. Did you get a burst of inspiration or something? You’ve been working in this room the entire day. You stripped the carpet, you put in those hardwood sections that I told you I’d help you with. Now,” he gestured to the bookshelf, “you’re building furniture.” 

You shrugged, “I just wanted to get our room prepared. It’s harder to move between an apartment and a house if the rooms aren’t ready, so I thought I’d just spend the day fixing it up.” 

“But…” 

“But?” You echoed. 

He wanted to point out your short attention span and tell you that this certainly wasn’t like you. He wanted to ask if you were okay or mentally unwell, but you looked bored by the conversation. Your eyes continued to wander back to the instruction booklet to make sure you were placing pieces together properly. 

“Never mind, just call me when you’re ready and we’ll go.” 

You watched him spin around and leave. Your attention went right back to the bookcase. Ever since you caught wind of his fans calling you lazy, you were forcing yourself to be more self-disciplined. 

Seungmin did it with such ease. Even when he didn’t want to do things, he pushed himself harder. Maybe that meant staying longer to learn a dance or it meant taking extra vocal lessons. Perhaps, it was just spending extra time in the recording booth to nail vocals. Seungmin seemed to get the whole self-perseverance thing, but you were different.  

Tasks were more difficult for you to get through. Having a short attention span didn’t help and oftentimes, you found yourself getting distracted or doing other things. Motivation was hard to come by for you. You were trying to work on self-discipline, but it was a long process. 

You were dubbed lazy by Seungmin’s fans after Seungmin made a light-hearted joke in the interview. He called you a homebody and joked that you were like a lazy cat, constantly curled up somewhere and not doing much. It never truly minded Seungmin and it was just a joke, but when the fandom heard it, they weren’t happy. 

They didn’t understand how someone with so much go could date someone with such little motivation. It worried them and the lighthearted joke rolled into an entire hate train. Comment after comment was plastered on your feed. 

Since then, you were trying to make yourself seem useful. You ignored the short attention span of yours and forced yourself to keep going. This was day one of what you had internally dubbed your new life. 

A shriek a short while later sent Seungmin rushing back to the room you were in. You were there with a hammer and gripping your thumb while you cursed up a storm. He rushed to your side and gently grabbed your hand. 

“Let me see it. What happened?” He pulled your now red and throbbing thumb away from your other fingers. 

All you could do was hiss in pain. It took a few seconds before you could admit that you accidentally slammed your thumb, with the hammer’s head, while driving a nail into the side of the wood. 

“Can you bend it?” Worried eyes found yours. 

“I don’t even want to attempt to do that. It hurts so bad, I wish I was kidding. I can physically feel it swelling up.” 

“Let’s put the restaurant on a rain check right now and let’s get you to the doctor.” 

He pulled you up by your good hand and led you into the living room. It was there that he helped you slip into your shoes and began tying the strings. You watched him with a frown on your face. 

“This is so stupid,” you mumbled, feeling mortified about everything. “Your fans were right and so were you. I have an awful attention span and maybe all I’m really good for is laying around and being lazy.” 

He glanced up at you with a raised eyebrow. “You haven’t seen that your fans are hitting me with hate, have you? You made that joke last week and now I’ve become a failure in their eyes.” 

“I have a lot to say about that, but I think we need to get you to the emergency room. Do you think the doctor will IV you? Maybe if I take a photo of it and ask for prayers, they’ll think you’re dying and then they’ll feel awful.” 

“That’s incredibly petty.” 

“Yeah, well, nobody gets to bully you besides me.” 

_ _ _ 

Jeongin: 

Jeongin’s arms reached out for you and then you dipped down. You ducked away, spun around, and began to talk about your day. Jeongin’s face puckered in displeasure, but he didn’t fight it. 

“How was your day?” You asked once you were finished. 

The two of you arrived home at the same time, just like usual. Your days were polar opposite, but it always led to different conversations. You were pretty stationary at your job, but Jeongin was constantly on the move. 

“It was okay.” He reached out for your hand, but you tugged it away when you saw him reach for it. “The guys and I screwed around like usual. We started to learn a new dance and I think by the end of tomorrow’s practice, we’ll have it fully down.” 

“That sounds amazing. You guys are really good at learning dances so fast. I don’t think I could ever do something that quickly. It takes me a few days to get the dance moves down.” 

He hummed and reached out again, but once more, you ignored his outstretched hand and you side-stepped it. When you did it again, he finally reached out, grabbed your hips, shoved you forward, and then shifted you. When he was finished, you stared at him with wide eyes. 

His hands remained on your hips and he pinned you against a living room stand. Your throat pulsed as you swallowed a loud gulp. His eyes met yours and they narrowed. 

“What?” You finally uttered as you squirmed beneath his gaze. “What are you looking at me like that for? What did I do?”

“Are you playing dumb right now, or are you being serious?” 

“Huh?” “You won’t let me touch you. I’ve tried to grab you a few times and you keep wiggling away, like you don’t want to be touched. Did I do something wrong yesterday?” He gently squeezed your hips. “I don’t know what I did.” 

“You didn’t do anything wrong. I just…” You trailed off, not sure if you should tell him or not. 

“You just what?” 

“That video that leaked the other day, the fans think I’m too clingy. I don’t want to seem like I’m suffocating you. I know that you’re not so huge on skin-to-skin contact, but I also didn’t realize just how much I do it.” 

“I don’t want you to feel like you have to do something just because I like it. You’re allowed to have boundaries in this relationship and if I’m clinging to you and touching you way too much, then I-”

“Don’t finish that sentence.” 

Your words halted immediately. Under the scrutiny of his stare, it was getting harder to stay still. You sucked in a deep breath and his fingers squeezed your hips once more. 

“I know I’m allowed to have boundaries, but I’ve learned to like your touch. I don’t mind it if you’re constantly touching me. If you’re laying on me, curled around my arm, or just holding hands, I’ve learned that I really like it.” 

“Are you sure?” You whispered. “Because truly, if you don’t like it-” 

“I never admit it because of the guys,” he finally admitted. “If I admit that I don’t mind your skinship, the guys will be all over me. It’s already bad enough that the seven of them still view me as a helpless teenager.” 

A smile cracked at your face. “It just means that they love you, Innie.” 

“And I love them, but I also love being grown and being independent. Now enough of that, where’s my hug? My evening kiss? I’ve had a long day and I’d really like to be touched.” 

“Words of a pervert,” you mumbled beneath your breath. 

“What did you just say?”

“Spoken like a true perv-” 

He cut you off by pulling you towards him and connecting your lips.

| ♡.﹀﹀﹀﹀.♡ | ♡.﹀﹀﹀﹀.♡ | ♡.﹀﹀﹀﹀.♡ |

Taglist: @lia-linny @straykidsstanforeverandever @seungnishi @stellasays45 @emilyywhyy

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Ko-fi

[sanguineterrain]

crushin' | jason todd

Summary: Barbara invites you to dinner with the Bats. She's done so before, and you've always declined, but this time, you agree because the Bat you've had a crush on for ages will be there. Little do you know, the only reason he's staying for dinner is because of you.

Pairing: Jason Todd x gn!reader 

Word count: 2.5k

Warnings/tags: batfam shenanigans, dick is a good meddling brother and deserves a fruit basket, fluff and humor, kissing, crushes, love confessions. just wanted to write something sweet and light :)

the divider

"So you're gonna press this," Barbara says, demonstrating on her own screen.

You follow along, clicking and typing. She nods.

"Good. Then you're gonna do this."

You open the file. A video of what looks to be Bruce drunkenly hula-hooping pops up. Your eyes widen.

"And that's how you keep Bruce in check," Barbara says, patting your shoulder. "Use sparingly. Only when he's getting on your last nerve."

"Wow," you say. "Babs, I... I don't know if I should have this kind of power."

"No, it's cool. I have dirt on everyone in this family, so really, it's my power. You're the only one who gets to see the vault."

You look at her. "You scare me."

She grins. "Thanks! Anyway, you're free to go. They'll be back from the mission soon, so our job is pretty much over."

The computer beeps. She checks the notification and types back. Then she hums.

"Or, you can, y'know, join us for dinner. Alfred keeps wondering when you'll do so."

You press your lips together. "I dunno, Babs... are you sure? I don't want to intrude."

"You're not. Seriously. And you know what I just found out? Jason will be here too."

Well. That does certainly stop your refusal in its tracks. You haven't seen Jason properly since he returned. You feel a pang of guilt at that; true, he's never at the Manor, at least not when you're around. But you could've reached out by now.

Still, being able to see him again properly is a wonderful opportunity. One you can't pass up.

"Okay," you say. "I'll join you all. As long as Alfred's okay with it."

She rolls her eyes, smiles. "Don't be ridiculous. C'mon."

You follow her to the elevator Bruce got installed for her. In the Manor, most of the family are sitting down to dinner. Damian and Cass are on one side of the table. Bruce is at the head. Alfred is still bustling in the kitchen.

You start to pull out the chair next to Cass, but Barbara startles you.

"That's Dick's chair!" She smiles sympathetically. "Sorry. He's particular. Isn't he, guys?"

"Yes," Cass says. "He's comfortable here."

"I've no idea what you're referring to, Gordon," says Damian. He nods at you. "Hello."

You smile. "Hey, Damian. That's fine. I'll sit next to you, Babs." You sit in the middle of three chairs, with Barbara on your right and an empty chair on your left.

"Hi, Cass. Hello, Mr. Wayne."

"Bruce," he reminds you. That's not happening. It feels way too weird to call him Bruce, even though you've known him since Jason was Robin. Just, no.

Cass smiles. "Hello. Glad to have you."

"Where's Tim and Duke?" you ask.

"Thomas is at university," Damian says. "Drake is probably with that idiot clone he calls a boyfriend."

Bruce looks up. "Tim and Connor are dating?"

"Good God," Barbara mumbles.

"Well, yes, Father. They've been dating for quite some time, even shared a room together. Last month, Drake went undercover in Atlantic City and the clone—"

"Old man! Where are you?"

"Jason, just—"

"Shut it, Dickhead."

The grandfather clock swings open, revealing the Cave entrance. Up stomps Jason, followed by Dick. Jason has a smear of purple goo on his forehead, but otherwise is clean. His back is to you.

Jason points an accusing gloved finger at Bruce. "You owe me a new bike, new guns, new gear, new phone, new—"

"Jason, slow down. Why exactly do I owe you new things?" Bruce asks.

"Because Tweedle-Dum here didn't scan the fuckin' spaceship that landed in Syracuse and melted my bike with purple goo!"

"It said it was empty," Dick says tiredly. "How was I supposed to know an abandoned ship would spit goo?"

"Okay, alright, boys, don't fight. Yes, Jason, I'll compensate everything you lost in Syracuse."

"Yeah, you will. And a new fridge." Jason thinks. "And a new TV."

"Master Jason," Alfred begins, walking into the dining room with a dish of roasted potatoes. "You may continue your bargaining with Master Bruce after dinner. Wipe that alien sludge off your face and have a seat."

Jason sighs. "Alf, I appreciate the invite, but you know I don't dine with most of the folks at this table. Gets real fuckin' crowded."

"Master Jason, watch your language," Alfred says sternly. "We have a guest. Behave like the young man I raised you to be."

Jason scoffs. "Who, Barbie? She doesn't—" He turns and stops, staring at you.

You smile, suddenly self-conscious. "Hi."

He swallows, eyes wide. "Hi. Hey."

"Aren't you staying for dinner?" you ask, confused. "Barbara said you were."

"I—" He glances at Barbara, then looks at you. "Uh. Well. I don't really..."

"C'mon, Jay, you guys should catch up!" Dick says brightly, already seated.

Jason's mouth sours as he turns to Dick. You pull out the chair next to you and tap the seat.

"You can sit next to me," you say, looking up at Jason.

He immediately turns back to you, lips parted. "Oh. I—y-yeah. Sure. Thanks."

"Master Jason. The goo," Alfred reminds, raising a brow. "And hang up your jacket."

Jason quickly backs up and bumps into the table corner. He winces.

"Right. I'm gonna... yeah. Be right back."

Jason disappears down the hall. Dick grins wolfishly at Barbara.

"You're amazing," he says.

"I know," she says, shrugging.

Alfred serves the last tray of vegetables, then sits. Jason soon returns, gloves and jacket away and goo-free.

"Did you style your hair, Todd?" Damian asks.

"No. Shut it." Jason scoots in his chair, glaring at his brother. But when you pass him the tray of roast, his expression softens. He smiles at you.

"Thanks," he says, and puts three slices on his plate. "Great roast, Alf."

"You haven't tried it," Alfred says, but looks very pleased.

"Don't need to."

"We're very glad you're here, Jason," Bruce says. "All things considered—"

Jason holds up a hand. "Ah-ah. I'm not here for you, old man. Save the speech for another day."

"And who are you here for, Jason?" Dick asks, propping his chin on his hands.

"None of your beeswax, Dick."

Dick shrugs. Damian begins to talk about an art project in school. You pay the appropriate amount of attention until Jason nudges your arm.

"Hey," he says, nodding at your empty glass. "Didja get something to drink?"

"Oh." Heat creeps up your neck. "Um, no. Sorry. I didn't know where to get the drinks."

"'S okay. Alf doesn't put out drinks anymore 'cause everybody drinks something different. You just help yourself to whatever's in the fridge. I'll get it for ya."

"Jason, you don't have to—"

He holds up a hand, smiling. "C'mon, none of that. You're a guest. Orange Fanta, right?"

You blink. "You remembered."

"Uh." His cheeks go pink. "I mean, yeah. No biggie. I'll be back."

Jason stands. Immediately, the others pounce.

"Are you going to the kitchen?" Dick asks.

"No," Jason says.

"Can you get me another Diet Coke?"

"Todd, if you're going to the kitchen, I would like another lemonade, please," Damian says.

"I just said I'm not going to the—"

"Master Jason, will you please bring this into the kitchen?" Alfred asks, holding up an empty tray.

Jason heaves a sigh. You wince.

"Sorry," you whisper.

He shakes his head and winks. "Nah, 's not you."

Obediently, Jason takes the tray and goes to the kitchen. He returns with a Diet Coke, which he tosses at Dick, who catches it with one hand, and a bottle of lemonade, which he throws to Damian who also catches it with one hand and a scowl. Finally, Jason opens the Orange Fanta for you and gently pours it into your glass, then sets the half-full can next to your plate. He sits down.

"Of course they get special treatment," Dick mumbles into his drink.

The table rattles, and Dick winces, squinting at Jason. The table rattles again, and Jason hisses.

"Boys," Bruce says wearily. "Enough."

"Yeah, Jason," Dick says, sticking his nose up. "Y'know it's my birthday soon. I deserve a brother who doesn't kick me."

"Oh, I'll tell ya what you deserve," Jason begins.

"Are we doing laser tag?" Cass pipes up from the end.

"'Course we are! Everybody's gonna be there." Dick looks pointedly at Jason. "Except my own brother. He refused."

You look at Jason, who's got a nasty glower aimed at Dick.

"You're not coming?" you ask.

Jason's expression melts away when he turns to you. "Uh, I mean—"

"No, he's not," Dick says, pulling the saddest pout you've ever seen. "He said he wanted nothing to do with my stupid birthday."

"Those weren't my exact words."

"They were very close," Damian says.

"Shut—"

"Jason, I can't believe you aren't going to Dick's birthday," Barbara says, shaking her head.

Jason's mouth falls open. "Et tu, Barbie?"

"You should come," you say, touching Jason's arm.

He immediately looks at your hand. You slowly remove it, smiling sheepishly.

"Then we can be a team," you say. "We're playing doubles. I'm horrendously bad at laser tag, but I bet we'd win together. I'd watch your six."

"Leaving them in the lurch, Jason?" Barbara tuts. "So unlike you."

Jason heaves a sigh. "For God—okay. Alright, brother mine. You win."

You beam. "So you'll come?"

"'Long as you and I are a team," Jason says, a little shy.

You bump his shoulder with yours. "Of course."

Dick looks at you. "You should join us for dinner every night."

You laugh bashfully. "Thanks, Dick."

Dinner goes on. Bruce excuses himself early, as do Cass and Damian. Soon, it's the four of you plus Alfred cleaning up after dinner. You and Jason are loading the dishwasher when Jason hisses. He pulls out his hand, revealing a thin red cut on his palm.

"Are you okay?" you ask, hovering worriedly.

"Yeah, 'm fine. I'll take the tray—"

"Jason, no," Dick says, herding him away from the dishwasher. "You have to get that wrapped immediately."

"What are you—dude, it's a tiny cut—"

"Yeah, but there was food on there, and you have no idea what can get into the wound and make you sick," Barbara says seriously. "You need to get it cleaned right now."

Jason rolls his eyes. "Fine, whatever. There's a first aid kit in the closet."

"There isn't!" Dick says, shooing Jason toward you. "Alfred hasn't restocked it. You have to go to the Cave. You should both go."

"Yes, great idea," Barbara says, looking at you. "You have medical experience, don't you?"

"I mean, a little, but—"

"More than us!" Dick says, shoving you both towards the hallway.

"I don't think so..."

"You take care of Jaybird here, he needs that hand," Dick says cheerily, opening the Cave entrance. "Go on, go."

"Christ on a bike," Jason mumbles, and heads down the stairs.

You follow, confused and concerned. The entrance slides closed. Jason goes to the medbay, muttering under his breath as he digs through one of the drawers with one hand. You join him, searching the top drawer for the antiseptic spray.

"Is the cut really bad?" you ask, trying to get a better look.

"No. My brother's just an idiot. Nothin' new."

You pull out the spray, some gauze, and a bandaid. Jason nods in thanks and goes to take it.

"I can do it," you say. "I do have medical experience, after all."

He snorts. "Fine by me."

You both sit on the edge of a cot. You turn to Jason and pull his hand into your lap. He inhales sharply. You stop.

"Is this okay?" you ask.

"Y-yeah. Fine. Sorry. I don't get touched a lot." Jason's mouth screws up. "Ugh. That sounded weird."

You laugh. "It's fine, I know what you meant."

He scratches the back of his neck while you clean his hand. He has big hands. Bigger than you remember. They're deeply scarred and calloused. You rub your thumbs over the pads of his fingers without thinking.

"You got soft hands," Jason says quietly.

"Heh. Thanks. The computer life."

He hums. "I didn't know you were working with Babs."

The guilt swims back full force.

"I know. I'm sorry. I should've reached out, Jason. I-I basically ignored you. Not on purpose! I just... I guess I wasn't sure where we stood and I thought maybe you'd be mad I was working for Batman after everything and I was afraid that we wouldn't—"

"Hey, whoa. 'M not mad." Jason finds your gaze. You frown. "I'm serious. I don't mind that you're working for Bruce. I mean, hell, I do too, on occasion. Mostly I just bitch at him."

You giggle. He smiles. You're still holding his hand. You don't really want to let go. Jason doesn't seem to want to pull away either.

"Well, even so, I'm sorry for not reaching out. I did miss you, Jason. And I'm glad you're back."

He clears his throat, ducking his head. "Huh. Well, I missed you too. And y'got nothin' to apologize for. I could've asked about you."

"Well—"

"Uh-uh, no, I'm the king of self-deprication. Y'can't take that from me," Jason says, eyes dancing with mirth.

You sigh dramatically. "Fine, fine. Can we say that we both could've reached out?"

"That's agreeable. And, uh, while we're clearing the air, I'm so terribly sorry 'bout my dumbass brother."

You tilt your head. "What do you mean?"

"Ah, huh. Hm. Well, funny thing. I kinda had a, um, crush on you, before. And Dick has it in his head that I... that I have a chance now. So... yeah."

"Before?" you ask.

You don't know why you're disappointed. It's not like you knew. Except maybe if you had, you wouldn't have missed out. Maybe you wouldn't have lost so much time.

Jason glances at you. "What... why are you sayin' it like that?"

"Like what?"

"Like you wish... that I..." He shakes his head. "Forget it."

"Jason," you say, barely a whisper.

He looks at you. His eyes flick to your lips, just for a millisecond. "Yeah?"

"Can I kiss you?"

A beat. Your heart falls.

"Yeah." Jason nods. "Yeah, kiss me."

You heart soars.

You hold Jason's face, still holding his hand. He gingerly touches your neck with his uninjured hand, strokes behind your ear with his thumb. Every nerve alights. You're kissing Jason Todd. The boy you've loved since you were thirteen.

"They did it! They're kissing!"

Jason growls against your mouth. You know it's not aimed at you, but it makes lightning shoot down your spine. Wow.

"'M gonna kill 'im," Jason mumbles.

You smile and pull back, just an inch. "It's nearly his birthday. At least wait till next week."

"Hm." Jason kisses the corner of your mouth. You like him so much. "Fine. Y'know you can convince me of pretty much anything? Wield that power carefully."

You wrap your arms around his neck. Jason braces you with a hand on the small of your back.

"I'm very flattered, but I think you're confused, Jay." A kiss to his jaw. "It's you who has a hold on me."

[pedrospatch]

splash

Jackson! Joel Miller x Female Reader

snapshots masterlist

summary: You come home from your first day back out on patrol and find Joel giving your daughter a bath.

warnings/tags: 18+ ONLY, MINORS DNI. JACKSON ERA. GIRLDAD!JOEL. established relationship. this specific work does not mention reader’s age (other works in this series may mention she is younger than Joel), no physical description of reader, Rosemary comes with a slight physical description (she has Joel’s hair color/hair type and eye color, no mentions of her skin tone). brief mention of Sarah, brief mention of Joel being a single father pre outbreak, Joel and Ellie are fine because i said so and it’s what he deserves, okay? general fluff and a lot of cuteness, brief smutty themes, but nothing explicit. minimal editing.

word count: 2.3k

a/n: short little thing, but this feels like the cutest thing i have written in a while. if you enjoy it, please consider reblogging or leaving a comment <33

Joel sighs to himself as he scrapes the remnants of Rosemary’s lunch into the bin of food scraps beside the kitchen counter—the neighbor’s chickens were in for a real treat tomorrow morning when he dropped them off on his way to patrol. He had just about coaxed his two and a half year old daughter into eating the crust of her jam sandwich when Ellie walked into the kitchen with a soccer ball tucked under her arm, a trade he was fairly certain she’d made more for the toddler’s sake than her own.

She was sixteen now, spent more time with her friends than she did with her family lately, but her soft spot for the little girl always, always brought her back home.

“Hey kid, look what I’ve got,” Ellie had grinned, holding the ball out for the child to see. “What do you say we go out back and kick this thing around? Sound like fun?”

He frowned, the creases between his brows deepening.

“Ellie, can’t you see I’m in the middle of feedin’ her—”

But it had been too late.

Rosie’s dark brown eyes widened, and she squealed in delight. “Down! Down!” she had exclaimed, whacking her teeny hands down on top of her wooden high chair on either side of her plate. “Daddy! Down, want down!”

Joel decided to put his foot down.

Well, he had tried to put his foot down, anyway.

“Not ‘til you’ve finished every last bite, babygirl. Y’gotta finish your sandwich and eat all your carrots, alright?”

“M’all done,” she’d insisted, placing both hands on her belly. Although Joel would have preferred she clean her plate, you had taught him to honor her fullness cues.

“We have to listen to Rosemary,” you’d told him. “If she says she’s full, then she’s full. The last thing we want to do is force her to keep eating when she’s not hungry, Joel. Her relationship with food starts with us, after all.”

“You’re startin’ to sound like that goddamn child rearin’ book,” he had teased you, earning himself a stern glare.

He liked to give you a hard time about it, but the truth of the matter was, that parenting book you found in the library turned out to be pretty helpful for both of you—while this wasn’t Joel’s first rodeo, the last time he had been around a child this young was over three decades ago. With Sarah, he’d flown through her childhood by the seat of his pants, went through a lot more trial and error scenarios than he liked to admit.

Often, Joel found himself feeling guilty. He tried to give some credit to the clueless young man in his twenties, the one who had been left to raise his baby girl all on his own when her mom couldn’t take it anymore after one year. Things turned out alright, but whenever he sees you with Rosemary, takes in the way you pour your entire heart into being a good mother to yours and his daughter, he can’t help but reminisce on his first life, on all those moments he felt so hopeless—all of those moments when he didn’t know what to do, and had no one to turn to for help. No one to lean on.

Oh how he wished Sarah could have known what it was like to have both of her parents at her side.

Like Rosie does.

Sighing, Joel places her plate in the sink, along with his own. He turns and glances at the clock on the wall—it’s half past noon, and he knows your early morning patrol group should be arriving back to the town’s main gates any minute now. Sure, caring for Rosemary had served as a decent distraction, but every so often, his anxieties would creep up on him. He worried about you being out there on the other side of the wall. And if you being out there wasn’t bad enough, you were out there without him.

“I’m back on the patrol roster next week,” you informed him one evening while the two of you were cleaning the kitchen after supper. You winced when he dropped the plate in his hands into the sink, the loud clanking noise bouncing off the walls. You wasted no time in pleading your case. “It’s been almost three years, Joel. I have to get back to pulling my weight around here. As much as I’d love to, I can’t stay home forever, and you know that as well as I do.”

Slowly, he’d spun around to face you, the muscle in his jaw ticking—he wasn’t happy. “Find another job,” he bit through his teeth. “Somethin’ in town. Somethin’ safe.”

“Joel—”

“You’re a mother now!” he hissed, angrily.

“And you’re a father,” you’d countered without missing a beat. Knowing Joel’s reaction was only coming from a place of concern, you walked up to him and placed a hand on his heaving chest, right over his racing heart in an effort to calm him. “Look, I’m just capable of getting myself home safely as you are, alright? And if it makes you feel any better, I’ll be partnered with Tommy. He’ll have my back.”

He’d found very little consolation in that.

Joel sighs again and reaches for the faucet.

“Uh, Joel?” Ellie’s voice comes from behind him.

“What?” He turns around, his jaw dropping open when he sees her standing there, carefully holding Rosemary out towards him by her underarms. She’s covered from head to toe in mud. “What the hell did you do to her?”

“You know how it was raining for like three days?” Ellie shoots him a sheepish smile. “The ball went into a mud puddle, and well, she sorta went in after it.”

“Jesus Christ, she’s filthy!” Exasperated, Joel narrows his eyes at her. “Why weren’t you watchin’ her?”

“I was, but she was too fast! Kid’s a little speed demon, man. Aren’t ya, Rosie?”

Rosie giggles and kicks her dangling feet, mud dripping off her tiny, leather oxford shoes and onto the floor with an audible splatter.

“She’s gonna be home from patrol any minute now,” he says, shaking his head. “If she sees Rosie like this, she’ll have my ass, and yours.” Carefully, he takes Rosemary from Ellie’s hands, holding her out and away from him. He jerks his chin towards the dirty floor. “Clean up this mess while I take her upstairs and give her a bath. We might just be able to get away with this.”

She gives him a thumbs up. “You got it, old man.”

“C’mon, Rosie Posie. Let’s get you all washed up before mama gets home and puts all three of us in a timeout.”

She gives him a wide, toothy smile. “Okay, daddy.”

Groaning, you shove through the front door.

You had underestimated how difficult it would be to get back in the saddle of a horse after almost three years of not being in one.

It would take some getting used to—again.

“Fuck,” you hiss, closing the door and leaning against it for support. Your knees. Your thighs. Your lower back.

There isn’t a single part of you that isn’t aching.

After taking a minute to collect yourself, you push away from the door and toe off your old, brown leather boots, leaving them there near the entryway. You call out, “I’m home!”

“Oh hey!” From seemingly out of nowhere, Ellie comes speeding down the hallway, skidding to a stop in front of you with her backpack slung over her shoulder. “Just the person I wanted to see! Mind if I head over to Dina’s for a while?”

“How long is a while, El?”

“She invited me to stay for dinner.”

You raise a knowing eyebrow at her, a smirk tugging at the corners of your mouth. “Again?”

Flushing, Ellie nods. “Yeah.”

“Did you ask Joel for permission?”

“Aw come on, man! Do I really have to ask Joel?” She huffs and rolls her eyes. “I can hear him bitching at me already.” Dropping her voice several octaves, she starts to mimic him, accent and all. “Y’been spending every fuckin’ night over there. Don’t you forget you’ve got a family, kiddo.”

Amused, you chuckle and lightly nudge her shoulder. “I have to take his side on this one, Ellie. It would be nice for the four of us to have dinner together. You know, like we used to before Dina came into the picture?” 

“I’ll stay home for dinner for the rest of the week,” Ellie swears, clasping her hands together. “Please?”

Sighing in defeat, you step aside. ���Alright, go ahead. I’ll hold you to your word though, alright?”

“Thank you!” she grins as she breezes past you and out the door, slamming it shut behind her.

Shrugging out of your jacket, you hang it up in the hall closet and then head upstairs. “Joel? Are you up here?” There’s no answer. You pass by Rosemary’s room first and peek inside only to find it empty. Furrowing a brow, you head a bit further down the hallway into yours and Joel’s bedroom. That’s when you hear his voice coming from the en suite bathroom.

There, you find him kneeling on the tile floor beside the tub, his back to you as he gives your daughter her bath. Hours ahead of her normal schedule, you realize.

Casually leaning against the doorframe, you cross your arms over your chest, and quietly watch them, your lips already curling into a smile.

“What’s this?” Joel asks her, holding up a yellow rubber duck. It’s almost comical how small it looks in the palm of his large hand.

“Duckie!” Rosemary answers, enthusiastically.

He nods. “S’right, honey. It’s a duckie. And what sound does a duckie make?”

Craning your neck, you catch a glimpse of her sweet little face as she stares at him, her expression a mingle of equal parts curiosity and confusion.

“C’mon now, babygirl,” Joel prompts her, handing her the toy. “Mama taught you this already, remember?”

She looks at the rubber duck and thinks, thinks, thinks. 

After a minute, Rosie gasps and shouts, “Quack!”

“S’right! Good job, Rosie,” he praises. Leaning over the edge of the tub, he presses a kiss into her damp, dark brown curls. “That’s my girl. You’re so smart.”

“Quack!” Giggling, Rosie lifts her chubby arms over her head, bringing them down into the water with all of her might, splashing Joel. She does it over and over again, soaking his face and the front of his denim shirt as she chants, “Quack, quack, quack!”

“Alright, alright, alright!” Joel laughs, shaking his head. He lifts an arm, wiping at his face with the sleeve of his shirt. “S’enough, my little duck. Daddy already had his shower today.”

Grinning, you saunter up behind him, and with a bit of protest from your back, you bend over to kiss the top of his head. You say in jest, “Without me?”

“Mama!” Rosie cries happily, reaching for you.

“Hi baby, I missed you!” Leaning down further, you kiss her cheek, the soothing, calming scent of her lavender soap invading your senses. Drawing yourself back up to full height, you glance down at Joel with suspicion. “Is there any particular reason you’re giving her a bath so early today?”

You can tell he’s contemplating lying to you. That is, until your eyes flicker over to her muddy clothes, which lie in a heap next to the hamper.

He’d forgotten to get rid of the evidence.

“Joel? What happened to my child?”

“We, uh, we had a little problem earlier this afternoon,” Joel explains, his ears burning red. “She was out in the backyard playin' with Ellie and she got into one of the mud puddles.”

“Rosemary Miller!” you playfully scold her. Placing your hands on your hips, you ask,“Is that true, young lady? Did you get into a mud puddle?”

Rosie beams. “Yeah!”

Rolling your eyes, you laugh and shake your head. “You silly girl.”

“Thought you’d be mad, darlin’,” Joel admits, peering up at you in relief.

“Joel, all that I ask when I leave her alone with you and Ellie is that I come home and she’s still in one piece,” you tease him.

Dipping his hand into the water, Joel splashes you, and of course, Rosemary decides to follow his lead and she does the same, bursting into another fit of giggles.

“Get her, Rosie, get her!” he encourages her. 

“Hey!” You jump backwards, almost tripping over your own feet. “Cut it out! You’re getting water everywhere!”

About an hour later, once both Rosie and the bathroom floor are dry, Joel puts her down for her long overdue afternoon nap. He heads back into the bedroom where you’re digging in a drawer for a pair of clean leggings and a sweatshirt. He comes up behind you, his arms snaking around your waist as he nuzzles his nose into your neck. He inhales deeply. 

“Ew, Joel, stop it! I’m all filthy,” you say, wiggling to get away from him. 

Joel holds you tighter. “Mm, I love it when you’re filthy, baby,” he smirks. “C’mon. She’s out for at least an hour. We’ve got some time to ourselves.”

“I’m so sore,” you whine. “From riding a horse all day.”

His lips find the shell of your ear and he whispers, “Too sore to ride me, darlin’?”

Biting back a tiny whimper, your head falls back onto his shoulder as wet heat pools between your thighs. He lightly nips at your pulse point, his teeth scraping your tender, delicate flesh.

“Jesus,” you breathe when he presses into you. You feel him against the small of your back—he’s already hard. “Can you at least let me bathe first?”

Joel hums. “I’ve got a better idea, baby.” Spinning you around, he reaches for the buttons of your shirt. “How’s about we save some water and shower together?”

“Thought you already had a shower today,” you remind him of what he’d said earlier.

He pushes your shirt off your shoulders and licks his lips. “I’m sure as hell up for another one.”

divider credit to @/saradika 🩵

[hannieehaee]

TRAINING SEASON (teaser)

18+ / mdi

summary: unfortunately for vernon, all his friends were gym bros, leading to constant harassment for him to join the lifestyle. after weeks of twelve men constantly bugging at him to accompany them, all it takes is one girl for vernon to finally give in.

content: strangers2friends2lovers!vernon, fitness!reader, vernon's kind of a loser here, reader is friends with the other 12, vernon's not into fitness, downbad!vernon, reader is implied to be into fitness but her body's not really described in any specific way, afab reader, smut, semi-public sex, handjob, kind of sub!vernon, dry humping, penetrative sex, etc.

(^ no actual content warnings in the teaser)

wc: 667 (teaser); 9.3k (full fic)

RELEASE DATE: january 7th

or you can check it out on my patreon today by subscribing!

a/n: okay i know the sneak peak is pretty tame and doesnt even include reader but i promise she's in there and that it gets better

masterlist

"C'mon, Nonnie. Come with us. Just this once."

"You don't even have to work out, we just want-"

"No, if I have to work out, he has to work out. You guys have been dragging me with you to engage in your masochist tendencies for weeks. He deserves the same treatment."

Vernon simply groaned at all the noise, uncaring of what Seungkwan, Mingyu and Jeonghan were saying, respectively. Instead, he opted to cover his face with a pillow, attempting to muffle all the noise his friends were making so early in the morning.

Then suddenly, the comfort of his blanket left him, followed by his pillow being pulled from his hold and used to deliver a swift smack against his head before being whisked away and landing on the opposite side of the room.

One more, he groaned, but this time louder. His eyes opened to find the culprit standing above him, squinting due to the sudden surge of sunlight into his vision at having opened his eyes.

"Dude, stop being a lazy piece of shit and come with us," nagged Joshua.

God, how many of them were in his apartment? It was supposed to be just him and Seungkwan who lived here, where did the rest come from?

"What time is it?" he finally grumbled out, sitting up. It's not like he had any options anyway.

"It's 9:16 in the morning," informed him Wonwoo from outside his bedroom. God, was he here too?

"Why are all of you in my apartment? Seungkwan, we agreed that-"

"We all have keys, you idiot. Now get up. We're going to the gym," this time it was Chan.

"Do all twelve of you go to the same gym at the same time? God, they must hate you."

Vernon finally sat up against his headboard, head counting a total of five of his friends currently in his room, assuming the rest to be either in his kitchen or living room.

God damn you, Boo Seungkwan.

"We're pretty well liked, actually."

A few of the members nodded along to Mingyu's rebuttal.

Yeah, that made sense. Twelve muscly and more than objectively attractive men were likely magnets for clientele over at the gym.

All the more reason to not join them.

All his friends were fitness addicts (sans Jeonghan, maybe). Simply gym bros who had developed what Vernon liked to call an unhealthy habit to exercise — despite how ironic that statement sounded. Vernon, on the other hand, had never been one to put too much emphasis on fitness. He liked his build as it was; some slightly toned muscle and a slim frame. He never really saw any need to bulk up like most of his friends, so he never gained an interest for it.

Yet his friends had tried to convince him to join them, time and time again.

Jeonghan had been the one other friend they had to convince to join them. Other than Vernon, Jeonghan was the only other member of their large friend group who had a proclivity against the gym. But his love for spending time with his friends had won him over, making him tag along just for the mere purpose of not feeling FOMO.

Now, Vernon did not have that issue. He didn't mind missing out on hang outs. He was a pretty lowkey, chill guy. Staying at home unless it was vital for him to leave, now that was more up his alley.

Except now he had twelve men nagging at him to get up, put on some basketball shorts and a flimsy tank top and join them at their gym. It had been a few weeks of this insistence, leading to this moment — all his friends breaking into his and Seungkwan's apartment in order to drag him out.

And the sad thing was that it worked. Apparently it took twenty-three consecutive days of bugging at Vernon to convince him of doing something he didn't want to do for him to budge. He hoped this didn't become some sort of pattern.

...

you can check it out today on my patreon by subscribing!

reply if you'd like to be tagged upon its release on tumblr!

[piastri-fvx]

Fool for you. Lando Norris.

Pairing: Lando Norris x model!reader, smau

Summary: When y/n and Lando are on vacation together and Lando is acting like the down bad boyfriend he is.

Word Count: 970+

Face claim: sabrina carpenter & girls from pinterest!!

Disclaimer/s: None, just a tiny bit of teasing/bickering and obviously Lando being down bad!!

A/N: Third storyyy, here we goooo!! Hope u enjoy <333 let me know if you have requests or you want to be on my permanent tag list!!!

♡ Masterlist ♡

------------------------------------------------------

@yourusername

liked by landonorris, pietra.pilao, logansargeant, oscarpiastri and 3.492.691 others

yourusername f1 summer break incomingggg

| view all comments...

user1 obsessed with the lando boyfriend content

-> user2 you're so real for that

oscarpiastri i can hear lando giggling in the room next to the one i'm in liked by creator

-> user3 probably kicking his feet

-> user4 lando's like a teenage girl with a crush 😭🙏

-> user5 no but like he basically is

user6 lando norizz in one... two... three..

landonorris my beautiful beautiful girlfriend 😍😍😍 liked by creator

-> yourusername 💕

-> landonorris i miss youuuuu

-> yourusername i'm sitting next to you??

-> landonorris yes but there's like a few centimeters between us 😣

-> maxfewtrell simp

-> georgerussell63 simp

-> alex_albon simp

-> estebanocon simp

-> yukitsunoda0511 simp

-> pietra.pilao model for a reason 🥰 liked by creator

-> yourusername miss you so much, my love!!

-> pietra.pilao you and lando need to come to london soon and visit max and i liked by creator

-> yourusername definitely!!

-> landonorris nooooo 🙁

-> maxfewtrell we don't get a say in this?

-> user6 no, let the girls be girls, lmao

user7 okay but she is literally stunning 😍

-> landonorris she issss 🥰 liked by creator

logansargeant yoooooo liked by creator

-> yourusername oh... hi 🦅🦅🦅🦅🦅🔥🔥🔥🇺🇸🇺🇸🇺🇸🇺🇸🇺🇸

-> user8 my girl saw an american and thought eagle 😭

user9 pretty girllll

@landonorris

liked by maxfewtrell, yourusername, mclaren, nicolassturniolo, taylorswift and 4.385.591 others

landonorris summer vacation with the prettiest girl in the world (she wanted to keep the kittens) 🥰

| view all comments...

user1 i love him for posting the chaotic pics

user2 i'm not sure if i wanna be lando or y/n

-> user3 real. they're both so lucky

-> user4 most attractive couple fr fr

user15 i don't want the relationship if it's not like lando and y/n

taylorswift deserved resttt ❤️ liked by creator

-> yourusername and your songs are on repeat 💋

-> user5 lando and y/n are giving so high school/ sparks fly

-> user6 omg true

user7 true love doesn't exist if they don't get married one day liked by creator

-> landonorris 🤭

-> user8 IS THIS SUBTLE FORESHADOWING, LANDO NORRIS?????

-> user9 is this an announcement by him??

user10 my type

yourusername cutieeeee ❤️ liked by creator

-> user11 they're adorable

-> landonorris @yourusername no youuuu

-> user12 he's probably kicking his feet rn

oscarpiastri i'm currently sitting next to lando, i can confirm that he's blushing liked by creator

-> landonorris yep

-> user13 and he's so proud of it too 😭❤️

-> user14 i don't want him if he's not like lando

maxverstappen1 are you a cat dad now?

-> landonorris yes, we kept the kittens 😣

-> user16 the way lando literally can't say no to y/n

-> user17 being a cat dad made him gain infinite aura tbh

@yourusername

liked by landonorris, leenascobell, charles_leclerc, flavy.barla and 2.389.174 others

yourusername blessed 🧡

| view all comments...

leenascobell love you so much y/n liked by creator

-> yourusername love youuuuu

-> user1 the scobell family and y/n being friends jdndbuxkdndkdk

-> user2 kill me now

mclaren orange dress? *wink* papaya? *wink wink* liked by creator

-> yourusername my favorite team 🧡🤭

-> user15 the mclaren admin is a proud parents 😭❤️

flavy.barla love of my life ❤️ liked by creator

-> yourusername real, love of my life 💋

-> flavy.barla my girllll liked by creator

-> landonorris back off, y/n's mine 🙄

-> estebanocon mate, we don't even exist to them

-> user3 real, so stop trying

-> user4 the wives and their boyfriends

landonorris did someone say wife? liked by creator

-> user5 what if we did?

-> user8 lando...

user14 that's not even a face card, that's a while face economy 😍

user6 oh, y/n, the woman you are

-> user7 oh, lando, the man your are

user8 lando, my man, you better wife her up soon

-> user9 fr, put a ring on it

-> user10 he better not fumble🙏

user11 bro's actually trying to soft launch him proposing to his girlfriend rn 😭

user12 they are so wattpad coded

-> user13 no but like actually 🙏

@landonorris

liked by yourusername, flavy.barla, alexandrastmleux, flonorris1, lilymhe and 5.395.726 others

landonorris ladies and gentleman, my future Mrs. Norris ❤️

tagged: @yourusername

| view all comments...

flonorris1 so incredibly happy for you guys!! and very happy to have y/n as my new sister 🤭 liked by creator

-> yourusername huge bonus to marrying lando 🥰

-> landonorris you're lucky i love you, y/n 🙄

-> yourusername i love you, even if you're a muppet sometimes 🧡 liked by creator

-> user1 mom and dad 😍

user2 she really is THAT woman

-> user3 FR SHE IS SO PRETTY

user4 i don't know if i want to be y/n or be with y/n

-> user5 the struggle is real yall

-> user6 yeah 😭😭😭

user7 can lando fight???

-> landonorris yes. 😒

-> user8 surely he can't fight all of us?

-> user9 maybe not but i think he'll try

flavy.barla congrats!! liked by creator

-> yourusername thank you, my loveee ❤️

-> landonorris thanks, flavy

iamrebeccad Yaaaaayyy so special 🥰♥️ liked by creator

-> user10 awwww ❤️❤️❤️

carmenmmundt that's wonderful!!! congratulations ❤️ liked by creator

-> yourusername thank you!!

-> user11 hi, carmen!!

user12 all of the wags being in the comments, awww 😭❤️

alexandrasaintmleux Sooooo happy for you both ❤️❤️🥰🥰🥰🥰 liked by creator

-> user13 alex and y/n supremacy 🙏

-> yourusername @alexandrasaintmleux thank you so much, darling!!!

-> user14 the best bridesmaid??

user15 CONGRATSSSSS ❤️❤️❤️

mclaren CONGRATSSS!!! the Norris's are team papaya 🧡🤭 liked by creator

-> user16 real 🥰

-> landonorris always ☺️

-> yourusername papaya on top!! liked by creator

------------------------------------------------------

A/N: yayyyyyy!! this took me so long because i was really busy today, but anywayssss!! hope u enjoyed <333

[kiwriteswords]

not a smut fic! (unless you want, but i was thinking more emphasis on the emotional rather than the physical) but maybe like

request for hotch x reader who has had past bad sex experiences in relationships? like maybe it hurt or her previous partner didn't care about her pleasure/comfort? so when she finally has her first time with hotch, she's out of her depth because she's used to being the 'giving' partner but getting nothing in return whereas now she's being treated well and she feels almost guilty because she feels like he's focusing too much on her (even if thats not true).

Untangling the Past

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x Female Reader||Word Count: 3k

Tags/Warnings: intimate scenes, fade-to-black smut, sexual themes, reader with past intimacy issues, soft!Hotch

Sypnosis: Aaron Hotchner never imagined how deeply you would reshape his world, how your quiet strength and guarded heart would challenge his understanding of love. As he unravels the layers of your past, mending the wounds left by neglect, he offers you the safety of his steady care. Together, you navigate a delicate dance of trust and tenderness, building something unbreakable, one vulnerable moment at a time.

Aaron Hotchner had never considered himself particularly adept at navigating the intricacies of new relationships. He was a man of structure and logic—a sharp mind honed to profile criminals and anticipate the unpredictable. But when it came to you, his structured world softened.

The first time he realized you were different wasn’t in the heat of a high-stakes case or during one of the late-night debriefs that bled into the early morning. It was in the quiet moments—a shared coffee break, an unguarded laugh. It was in the way you looked at him, equal parts guarded and curious.

When you started seeing each other, Aaron approached it with a mix of careful deliberation and unshakable determination. He knew the risks of two people in the BAU becoming involved, but he also knew that what he felt for you wasn’t something he could easily set aside. You, with your quick wit and quiet strength, had carved a space in his life that he hadn’t realized he needed filled.

The first time you were intimate, Aaron noticed your hesitation immediately. He wasn’t profiling you, not consciously, but years of observation had made him attuned to subtle shifts in body language and tone. You were nervous, but it was more than that. When he kissed you, your hands clung to him as if you were afraid to ask for more. When he touched you, there was a tension in your body that told him this wasn’t just first-time nerves.

"Are you okay?" he asked softly, pulling back just enough to meet your eyes. His hand rested lightly on your hip, his thumb brushing small, soothing circles against your skin.

You nodded quickly, your voice a little too bright as you said, "Yeah, I’m fine."

He didn’t press, not yet. Instead, he kissed you again, slower this time, giving you space to respond. Aaron was a patient man. He’d waited years to let himself feel this way again, and he could wait as long as you needed.

But as the night went on, he couldn’t ignore the way you seemed, almost uncertain about the attention he gave you. You’d shiver under his touch, your breath catching in ways that sent heat pooling in his chest, but there was also a restraint, as though you didn’t quite know what to do with the care he offered so freely.

When he finally asked again, his voice was steady and low. "Talk to me. If something doesn’t feel right, I need to know."

You hesitated, your gaze flicking away before finding him again. "It’s not that. It’s just… I’m not used to this."

"This?" he prompted gently.

"Being treated like… like I’m the one who matters," you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper. "My past relationships weren’t… great. Sex wasn’t always…great. Scary even."

Aaron felt a flash of anger at the thought of anyone treating you with anything less than the respect and care you deserved, but he quickly pushed it aside. This moment wasn’t about them; it was about you. "I’m sorry you went through that," he said, his thumb brushing along your jaw. "But this is about us. And I want you to feel safe and comfortable. If that means taking things slower or stopping altogether, just say the word."

You shook your head. "It’s not that I don’t want this. I do. It’s just… hard to wrap my head around."

"Then let me help you," Aaron said, his voice unwavering. "You’re allowed to want this, to enjoy this. You don’t have to earn it or prove anything to me."

Your eyes glistened with unshed tears, and Aaron’s heart ached at the vulnerability you were showing him. He kissed your forehead, letting the moment stretch until you exhaled a shaky breath.

"Okay," you murmured. "But you’ll have to be patient with me."

Aaron smiled softly. "Patience is something I’m good at."

As the days turned into weeks, Aaron made it his quiet mission to help you unlearn the harmful lessons your past relationships had taught you. He paid attention, learning the ways your body responded to his touch, the subtle shifts in your breathing that signaled when you were truly at ease. He noticed the way you hesitated to ask for what you wanted, so he started asking instead, his voice always steady and unassuming.

"Does this feel good?" he’d ask, his lips brushing against your ear.

When you nodded, he’d press further, "Tell me what you need."

At first, you were hesitant; your answers were clipped and uncertain. But over time, you began to trust that his questions weren’t loaded, that he truly wanted to know. And when you finally started voicing your desires, the shy, breathy way you asked made Aaron’s chest swell with a mixture of pride and tenderness.

One night, as you lay tangled together, your head resting on his chest, you spoke up unexpectedly. "You make it hard not to feel guilty."

Aaron’s brow furrowed, his fingers pausing their gentle strokes along your back. "Guilty?"

"For taking so much," you said quietly. "I’m not used to someone… caring this much."

He shifted, tilting your chin so you’d look at him. "You’re not taking anything, and you have nothing to feel guilty about. You give more than you realize."

When you didn’t look convinced, he added, "I’m not just here to give to you; I’m here because I want to share something with you. And that means letting me take care of you when you need it."

Your eyes searched his, and Aaron held your gaze, hoping you could see the sincerity in his words. After a moment, you nodded, your expression softening. "I’ll try to remember that."

Aaron kissed you then, slow and deliberate, a silent promise that he’d be here for as long as you needed him. In that moment, he realized that intimacy wasn’t just about physical closeness; it was about building something stronger, something that could withstand the weight of past hurts and insecurities. And with you, he was ready to build it—one step, one moment, one breath at a time.

Over the next few weeks, Aaron continued to watch and learn, careful not to push but always ready to meet you where you were. One night, after an especially long day at work, you’d curled into his side on the couch. His hand rested on your knee, tracing lazy circles over the fabric of your leggings. You were quiet, your fingers absently playing with the edge of his shirt.

“You’re always so… thoughtful,” you murmured, your voice barely audible over the soft hum of the television.

Aaron glanced down at you, his brow furrowing slightly. “Shouldn’t I be?”

You hesitated, biting your lip as you avoided his gaze. “It’s just… new for me. I don’t know how to… reciprocate.”

He reached for your hand, lacing his fingers with yours. “You don’t have to do anything differently. Pleasing you, making you feel cared for—that’s what makes me happy. Seeing you relax, knowing you feel safe with me, that’s everything I could want.”

Your eyes darted to his, a flicker of disbelief mingling with the gratitude he saw there. “But it feels like I’m taking too much. Like I’m being selfish.”

Aaron shook his head gently. “You’re not being selfish. You’re learning to accept what you’ve always deserved. And if it makes you feel better, you’ve already given me more than you know.”

You tilted your head slightly, a small frown tugging at your lips. “How?”

He leaned down, pressing a kiss to your forehead before speaking. “By letting me in. By trusting me. That’s more than enough.”

The way your expression softened told Aaron you were starting to believe him, even if it would take time for you to fully embrace it. He’d wait as long as you needed because seeing you begin to let go of the walls you’d built was a privilege he didn’t take lightly.

“I’ll try,” you said finally, your voice steady but quiet. “But it’s going to take time.”

Aaron smiled, his thumb brushing over your knuckles. “I’ve got all the time in the world.”

The next time you were together, Aaron could tell something was on your mind. He noticed it in the way your hands lingered on his chest, the way your gaze flickered to his before darting away. You wanted something, but you wouldn’t ask for it. The realization hit him with a pang of sadness—whatever your past had been; it had taught you that your wants didn’t matter, or worse, that they would be met with rejection.

He reached up, brushing his thumb along your cheek to catch your attention. “Hey,” he said softly, his voice steady and calming. “You’re holding something back. What is it?”

Your lips parted, but no words came at first. You looked down, your hands fidgeting, and then let out a small, shaky breath. “It’s stupid,” you murmured. “I don’t even know how to bring it up.”

“It’s not stupid,” Aaron said firmly, his thumb now tracing slow, reassuring circles on the back of your hand. “Whatever it is, I want to hear it. You don’t have to filter anything with me.”

You hesitated, biting your bottom lip. “I’m… scared you won’t like it,” you said finally, your voice barely above a whisper. “Or that you’ll think it’s… weird. Or judge me for asking.”

The vulnerability in your voice hit Aaron like a punch to the gut. He let the words sink in, his chest tightening at the thought of anyone making you feel ashamed for voicing your needs. Leaning in, he pressed a kiss to your forehead before speaking, his voice low and sincere. “There are very few things I can think of that I wouldn’t want to do—if it’s with you.”

You looked up at him, your eyes widening slightly, and Aaron saw the flicker of disbelief in your expression. He smiled softly, his gaze steady and unwavering. “I mean that. Whatever you’re worried about, whatever you want to try, I’ll listen. You can trust me to meet you there, no matter what it is.”

Your lips quirked into the faintest smile, though uncertainty still lingered in your eyes. “You make it sound so simple.”

“It is,” he said gently. “Because I care about you. Making you happy, seeing you comfortable—that’s what matters to me. Not some arbitrary line or rule. Just us.”

Your voice wavered when you finally replied. “I’ve never had that before. Someone who just… wants me to feel good.”

Aaron’s hand slid to cup your cheek, tilting your face so you couldn’t look away. “Then let me be that for you,” he said, his tone quiet but firm. “There’s no rush, no pressure. If you’re not ready to share, that’s okay. But when you are, I’ll be here. And I promise, there’s nothing you could say that would make me think less of you.”

The raw sincerity in his voice seemed to ease the tension in your shoulders. You took a shaky breath and nodded, your fingers squeezing his hand. “Okay,” you whispered. “I’ll try.”

Aaron kissed you softly, his touch lingering as he pulled back just enough to meet your eyes. “That’s all I ask,” he said. “We’ll take this one step at a time.”

____________

Aaron wasn’t sure what he expected, but the way you seemed to glow after sharing and having it met was enough to make him forget any preconceptions. The two of you were still tangled in each other, the room quiet except for your soft breathing. You looked peaceful, content, your head resting on his chest as his fingers drew idle patterns along your back. He’d seen you like this only a handful of times—truly at ease—and it struck him how rare and precious these moments were.

“Thank you for telling me,” he said softly, breaking the comfortable silence. His voice was calm, but there was an undertone of something deeper. “You seemed… happy.”

You laughed quietly against his chest, your breath warm against his skin. “I am,” you admitted, your tone carrying a note of surprise, as if even you weren’t used to the idea. “I’m glad I said something.”

Aaron smiled faintly, his hand pausing for a moment before resuming its gentle movements. “I’m glad you did too,” he said, his voice thoughtful. “I’m always trying to figure you out, but sometimes, you’re an enigma.”

You shifted slightly, looking up at him with an expression caught somewhere between curiosity and caution. “An enigma?”

“Not in a bad way,” he clarified quickly. “You’re just… hard to read sometimes. I usually pride myself on understanding people, but with you, I feel like I’m always learning.”

You were quiet for a moment, your fingers tracing a faint line along his ribs. “That’s not a bad thing, is it?” you asked, your voice soft but steady.

“Not at all,” Aaron said, his tone resolute. “I like learning about you. But I want to understand why you hold back so much. Not just with this, but in general.”

You stiffened slightly, and Aaron immediately regretted pushing. He shifted, tilting your chin up so he could meet your eyes. “I don’t mean to pry,” he said gently. “If you’re not ready to talk about it, that’s okay.”

“No, it’s not that,” you said quickly, your voice trembling slightly. “I just… I don’t know how to explain it.”

Aaron waited patiently, his gaze steady and unjudging. He could see the wheels turning in your head, the way your fingers gripped the edge of the sheet as if grounding yourself. Finally, you exhaled, a long and shaky breath.

“My past relationships weren’t exactly… kind,” you began, your voice barely above a whisper. “Sex was always about them. What they wanted, what they liked. It didn’t matter if it hurt or if I wasn’t comfortable. It was just… something to get through.”

Aaron’s chest tightened as he listened, a mix of anger and sadness washing over him. He didn’t interrupt, letting you speak at your own pace.

“I think I just stopped expecting it to be anything else,” you admitted, your voice cracking slightly. “And when it wasn’t… good, I blamed myself. Like maybe I wasn’t good enough, or I wasn’t doing something right. It just… made me feel so exposed, and not in a good way.”

Aaron’s hand stilled on your back, his grip firm but gentle as he pulled you closer. “I’m sorry,” he said softly, his voice thick with emotion. “You didn’t deserve that.”

You shrugged lightly, your gaze fixed on the pattern of the sheets. “I guess I just got used to it.”

He tilted your chin up again, his dark eyes boring into yours. “That’s not something you should have to get used to,” he said firmly. “You deserve to be cared for, to feel safe. And if there’s anything I can do to help you feel that way, you just have to tell me.”

You nodded slowly, your lips pressing into a faint, shaky smile. “You already are,” you whispered. “I wouldn’t have shared anything if I didn’t feel safe with you.”

Aaron’s heart swelled at your words, but he could still see the weight of your past lingering in your expression. “You don’t have to carry all of that by yourself anymore,” he said softly. “I’m here, for all of it. For you.”

You let out a shaky breath, your fingers curling into his chest as you rested your head back against him. “It’s just going to take time,” you murmured.

“I have all the time in the world,” he replied, his voice steady and reassuring. “And as long as you let me, I’ll keep showing you that it doesn’t have to be like it was before.”

You didn’t say anything, but the way you clung to him spoke volumes. Aaron held you close, his hand resuming its gentle path along your back, silently vowing to keep learning, to keep showing you that intimacy could be a place of comfort and joy, not pain and fear. And in that quiet moment, he felt something shift—a sense of trust growing between you, fragile but unbreakable.

Tag List:

@zaddyhotch

@estragos

@todorokishoe24

@looking1016

@khxna

@rousethemouse

@averyhotchner

@reidfile

@bernelflo

@lover-of-books-and-tea

@frickin-bats

@sleepysongbirdsings

@justyourusualash

@person-005

[burreauxwrites]

OVERLOAD - (joe burrow x reader)

description: you went out with joe to hangout with his friends, but you get a bit overwhelmed (blurb).

word count: 1.1k … or 1.2k, idk.

warnings: fluff, joe x reader, reader experiences sensory overload, reader could be neurodivergent though it’s not explicitly confirmed, sharing a shower.

you had no idea why you even agreed to this.

joe wanted to hang out with some friends, and you felt bad about not tagging along. you almost didn’t, but you didn’t want to be a party pooper and leave him hanging.

as soon as you step into the restaurant, it was almost instantaneous sensory overload. the lights were bright, almost blinding; on top of that, your dress was itchy and digging into your skin in the worst way possible. the most awful part of all? there was a lot of noise. a lot. some people had families with children who were being…well, children. others were having obnoxious, drunken conversations.

you wanted nothing more than to go home. but alas, you stood along with joe, simply smiling and nodding as he talked with his friends.

but joe knew you all too well.

he could tell you were feeling a little agitated and overwhelmed. you fidgeted with your dress and small pieces of jewelry. you slowly but surely began scooting closer to him, and you almost appeared zoned out, like you were trying to ignore the ten million things occurring at once.

he leaned down, whispering to you, “are you okay, baby?” he asked, his voice soft and attentive.

you were tempted to lie; just nod and grin. but you didn’t. instead, you gave a small shrug, your hands shaking ever so slightly. “i-i don’t know,” you murmured, your voice soft and shaky, “just…overwhelmed.”

before you knew it, joe stood up straight, nodding and resting his hand onto your waist gently. he speaks to his friends, telling them that the both of you will be heading out a bit early. it was a sweet gesture, really. after all, most people in your life would tell you to suck it up and deal with it.

as you two got in the car, you sat quietly, tears in your eyes. you felt embarrassed, awful. you essentially ruined what was supposed to be a good moment with joe and his friends.

“i’m sorry…” you apologized, your voice meek.

joe shook his head, gently resting his hand on your thigh. “no, baby,” he assured you, looking at you fondly, “you’re fine. don’t ever apologize for feeling overwhelmed.”

you nodded, letting him gently wipe away your tears. before he pulled off to head back home, he plugged in his phone, letting you play whatever music you want.

he listened to more hiphop than anything, but in this moment, he wanted you to feel comfortable and happy. if that meant you listening to your favorite genre of music, then so be it. as you hummed to your favorite songs, his hand provided comforting strokes to your thigh.

as soon as you guys made it home, you sat down, preparing to remove your heels; however, joe stopped you.

“nuh-uh, babe. let me,” he said, his hands moving to the straps and buckles, working to undo them.

your gaze softened, watching him. “joey, hun…” you chuckled, watching him kneel down to take off your heels, “i can do this myself, yknow? i’m not a princess.”

“well,” joe chimed in, taking off one of your heels, “you’re a princess to me. and you deserve the best princess treatment.”

with little problems, joe slipped off your other heel, helping you up. he ushers you to the bathroom, patting your head. “feel free to use your body wash and stuff.”

“joe, babe, i don’t think you want to smell like cherry blossoms-”

“y/n.” joe interrupted your rambling, folding his arms.

with a small smile, you throw your hands up, turning to take a shower. joe steps in behind you, gently adjusting the water for the both of you.

his hands were gentle and comforting as he rubbed the soap into your skin, massaging in small circles. he made sure to not to move too abruptly or harshly. the same applied for when he washed your hair, except his touch was actually more light than usual.

after your guys’ shared shower, he carefully dried the both of you off and gave you one of his shirts to wear. once the both of you were comfortable and dry, you lay down.

“you wanna watch tv?” joe questioned, preparing to reach for the remote.

instead, you shook your head, opting for some cuddles in silence instead. and that was okay with him too. besides, he thought it would be something you needed after tonight. his hand sweetly ran through your locks in a soothing motion as he stared at you fondly. you looked peaceful, enjoying his warmth and presence.

he leaned in and kissed your forehead, his voice tender. “you still feel bad, don’t you…?”

you sighed. that was true. you know it’s not your fault; whenever you experience sensory overload, it’s a lot for you to handle. and you truly wanted to have a good time. you wanted joe to have a good time.

“yeah…” you nodded, your voice trailing off in guilt. “it’s just…a big burden at times. been overwhelmed over the smallest changes or things.”

“it’s not a burden, baby,” joe assured you, his hand resting on your cheek as his thumb felt your smooth skin, “your comfort and safety mean the world to me. if you aren’t comfortable, then i’m not comfortable.”

“you don’t think it’s weird that i have to blast music twenty four seven?”

“no. if that’s what helps you tune everything else in the world out, then that’s cool.” joe shrugged, smiling at you.

“hm. what about when i constantly fidget or make sounds?”

joe gave you another laugh, shaking his head. “princess, i don’t care about the little things that you do,” he affirmed, pressing a kiss onto your temple, “you don’t need to mask or hide your little quirks. it’s fine.”

“…you mean you won’t think of me any differently?” you asked, looking up at him as he spoke.

joe shook his head once more. “babe. i ramble to you about my little niche interests all the time. and you don’t think of me differently, do you?”

“i mean. i think it makes you a bit of a nerd…” you admitted sheepishly.

“wow…”

“in a good way! not like that!” you clarified, giggling and slapping his shoulder as he shook his head. he also laughed, clearly not taking your words to heart.

after a moment of silence, joe spoke, his tone serious yet warm and comforting. “seriously though,” he said, “i love you for you. every single thing about you is worth cherishing,” he murmured, twirling a strand of your hair around his finger, “and so help me god, if you think otherwise, i’ll write a list about all the things that i love about you.”

with a laugh, you nestle your head against joe’s shoulder. “fine, fine!” you surrendered, looking up at him.

“good. and if you ever feel overwhelmed, don’t be afraid to let me know.”

“okay…thank you, joey.” you hummed, leaning in and kissing his cheek softly. “i love you.”

“and i love you too. more than anything.”

as someone who is neurodivergent (audhd) and loves joe, this was very comforting to write 🥺

[carisc4pshaw]

Spencer’s Double Shift

Dad!Spencer finishes a case only to find out he can’t go home to his wife (reader) and daughter as they have another case in New York. (fluff)

word count: 2.5k

tags: dad!spencer, mom/fem!reader, parents, parenting, New York, behavioural analysis unit, date night, early birthday dinner, halloween mention, fbi, plane ride, first plane ride, subtle sex mention, fluff, marriage, married with kid, work, fear of flying, comforting.

no warnings

notes: I don’t really like the title of this but oh well, this is the first time I’ve written with the reader so its not amazing sorry. Hope you enjoy!

——————————————————🩷—————————————————

Spencer had been away for three days working on a difficult case but there wasn’t a day he hadn’t called you before starting and ending his day. He told you he had been calling because he missed you but you know it’s really because he missed your perfect daughter.

You and Spencer had the most gorgeous daughter, Delilah Reid, she’s four years old and a total daddy’s girl, she asks you multiple times a day if she can call when Spencer is away working on a case and when you explain to her why she can’t call it makes her cry but she stops when you remind her that her daddy saves lots of people. He is her hero.

Spencer had texted you a few hours ago to let you know he was now boarding the plane to come home as well as telling you he missed both you and Delilah and couldn’t wait to kiss you so when you saw his call coming through on your phone you weren’t surprised.

“Hi Spence,” You said into the phone as you went around the house putting Delilah’s toys away, “Good flight?”

“Hi baby, yeah good flight but I have some bad news,” Spencer replied running his hand through his fluffy curls.

“You have to stay late and do reports?” You groaned into the phone.

“Worse, Hotch got another call on the flight, bad case in New York, we leave in 2 hours. I’m so sorry.”

“It’s okay honey, it’s not your fault,” You were glad you weren’t FaceTiming right now because the massive frown on your face would make him feel worse and he didn’t deserve that.

“Can I be the worst husband ever right now and ask a favour of you?” Spencer asked.

“You’re hardly the worst husband. Shoot.”

“Could you bring me some clean clothes to swap over in my overnight bag and please bring Delilah I miss her so much I feel like I’m missing everything.”

“I can do that of course, I want to see you I miss you. You aren’t missing much with Delilah except a very messy playroom and a few princess stories at night.”

“Not the princess stories they are my favourite.”

You laugh, “Alright Spence, I’ll bring one for you to read to her before you leave.”

“Deal. Don’t be too long I miss you,” You can practically see Spencer’s pout just by hearing his tone.

“You need to let me hang up then.”

“Fine, be quick, I love you and be safe,” he blew a kiss into the phone making your heart flutter.

“I love you too, extra safe I promise,” You said before hanging up and getting his things together for him.

You knocked on the door of your daughter’s bedroom lightly to see if she was still napping, after getting no sleepy response from her you opened the door quietly climbing into the bed beside her as much as you could with the little space.

“Baby,” You stroke one of the brunette strands of her hair from her face.

“Mommy? Is Daddy home?” She mumbled sleepily to you.

“No baby, we are going to visit Daddy at work. Do you want to pick a book for him to read to you?” You played with the ends of her wavy hair.

“Really? I love Daddy’s work! Yeah, I pick a book,” she says trying to scramble out the duvet.

“Daddy’s got more people to help though baby so we can’t stay too long, just until he has to leave.”

Delilah pouts, “But mommy I miss Daddy he’s been away like a million days.”

You laugh, “I know baby, he’s sorry and so am I but we can do some fun things.”

“He’ll be back for Halloween?”

“Yes he will be back before Halloween sweetie,” You kissed her head, “Get ready and we will leave.”

“Can I stay in my fluffy pyjamas? Please,” Delilah dragged out the ‘e’ at the end of please.

“If you want to,” You smiled at your daughter picking her up to help her off the bed so she could pick a book to take.

——————

You helped Delilah get out of the car and passed her the princess book before swinging Spencer’s bag onto your shoulder and carrying Delilah at the same time.

You signed in at reception, Spencer had called to tell them you were dropping by, usually, they don’t let people come in without an employee badge but you had become friends with the receptionist after the many times you had dropped by to see Spencer in the times you were dating and while you had been married.

Once you were in the elevator you put Delilah down, she couldn’t get lost going from the elevator to the bullpen since they were opposite each other and she had been there enough times to know the way.

When the doors opened you spotted Spencer waiting on the other side of the open glass door. He knew his daughter would run out once she saw him and that’s exactly what she did. The small girl let go of your hand and ran towards her Dad the book still in her hand.

“Daddy!” She squeaked, you walking not far behind watching them as they collided in a hug.

“Hi Princess,” Spencer picked her up and spun her around. Hotch, Emily and JJ were watching from across the room smiling. Emily could see how much happier Spencer was as soon as he was talking to you or back with both you and your daughter.

“You should let him bring them to New York with us and maybe give him a day off while we are there,” Emily whispered to Hotch.

“I’ll speak to him about it,” Hotch spoke while nodding.

“I missed you, Daddy, don’t go, why do you keep leaving me and Mommy?” Delilah pouted with tears in her eyes.

Spencer held Delilah’s hair out of her face placing kisses over her face, “I’m sorry baby, I don’t want to leave you.”

You sighed seeing the tears almost spilling from Delilah’s eyes, “Honey I told you Daddy saves people.”

“But what if I need him,” Delilah started crying both your and Spencer’s hearts breaking as well as the others watching.

“Reid,” Hotch called Spencer signalling for him to come over.

Spencer tried to pass Delilah over to you but the girl cried harder refusing to let go of him.

“You can all come,” Hotch said walking up the stairs towards the office.

Once you entered with your husband and daughter who had stopped crying Hotch smiled, “Emily made a point to me that you haven’t been at your best recently being apart from your wife and daughter and proposed I talk to you about bringing them to New York with us, that way we can call you when we need but you can also do some exploring and be with your family,” Hotch said.

“Really? That would be great!” Spencer said.

“That really would be, thank you, Aaron,” You said.

“We will pick you up in an hour on the way to the jet.”

“The only thing is Delilah has never flown before, I don’t want her to get upset and distract you from your case,” You added.

“She’s no bother.”

“I’m a big girl I will be fine I going to eat a big pizza,” Delilah squealed, “Let me go Daddy I need to tell Auntie Emily and Auntie JJ,” she gasped, “Can we visit Nana and Auntie Elle and her girlfriend and her kitten too!”

“Slow down baby, we need to go home and get ready before we can do anything,” You crouched down to pull Delilah into a hug.

“Kay Kay, me and Daddy make plans on the plane!”

You all laughed before Spencer ruffled her hair with his hand, “Okay little princess.”

The three of you went back to your house to get ready, you already felt a little stressed about how little time you had to pack. Packing usually took you at least a day to make sure you had a list of everything you needed and you weren’t leaving anything behind.

Spencer stood behind you rubbing your shoulders, “I can tell you’re stressed.”

“Sorry, I just don’t know what to pack. What’s the weather going to be like? What are we going to do there? Fancy or casual dinners? I guess casual because Lilah is with us,” You rambled.

“We won’t be there more than four days, the weather is the right temperature for jeans and t-shirts, pack a jumper for the mornings, maybe take a coat in case it rains one day but nothing too thick,” he helps you out.

“Thank you, Baby,” You grab his face leaving a gentle peck on his lips before returning to your suitcase to finish your packing while Spencer went to help Delilah.

——————

You sat opposite Delilah and Spencer sat beside her on the private jet. The small brunette had her small hands on either side of the window watching the takeoff and the city becoming several long fluffy clouds.

“It’s pretty!” Delilah gasped.

“Yeah, it is isn’t it?” You replied.

“Daddy, do you want to see too?” Delilah asked him.

“I’ve seen it lots of times, you enjoy it,” He ran his hand over her hair before moving to sit next to you.

“Hi,” You move a little closer to him in the seat.

“Hi,” He takes your hand and laces your fingers together.

You rest your head on his shoulder your eyes fluttering closed for a second as he rubbed his thumb on the back of his hand.

“Are you okay?” He asked. You were sometimes a nervous flyer but you didn’t want to show it right now especially in front of your daughter for her first flight.

“I’m doing fine, this plane shakes less than a commercial aircraft,” You glanced up at him smiling.

“I didn’t get to give you a proper hello earlier,” Spencer leaned his head down connecting his lips with yours in a quick kiss that unfortunately didn’t go unnoticed by the young brunette girl.

“EW!” She shouted rather loudly, “You guys can’t kiss!”

“Why not? We love each other,” Spencer tells Delilah, “And you need to be a bit quieter baby. They are working,” He points to his team.

“It’s gross to kiss,” Delilah stuck her tongue out.

Spencer gave your lips one last quick peck before grinning at Delilah who was sitting with her arms folded and pouting.

Around halfway through the flight, the plane hit a small rough patch of turbulence making you panic slightly and Delilah started crying. Spencer wanted to comfort the both of you but you knew it was more important for him to look after your child and besides you always remembered the fact Spencer had told you about planes that they’re more likely to crash as you were taking off or as you are landing which made you feel a little bit better not by much but it was something.

You watched as Spencer moved Delilah onto his lap and rubbed her back trying to calm her down. When her breaths became more controlled he wiped the tears from her cheeks and placed a kiss on her nose whispering, ‘You’re okay baby I’ll always keep you safe,’ to her.

Seeing how he was with her always made your heart warm and melt in your chest, there really could be no better father for any child except maybe one that wasn’t in the FBI but you would never want anyone else as your husband or as Delilah’s father.

You left your seat to go to grab a coffee, Emily and JJ were standing by the coffee machine talking and quite obviously flirting. You were closer to JJ than you were to Emily but not for any reason other than JJ’s son Micheal and Delilah went to the same daycare.

“Hi,” You said squeezing around them to get a mug from the cupboard.

“Hi,” They replied at the same time before quickly turning their heads and smiling brightly at each other to acknowledge what they had just done.

You laughed, “Excuse me,” You directed at Emily who was standing by the coffee machine.

She moved to the side, “Is Delilah okay? We heard her crying, was it the turbulence?”

“Yeah she’s fine, she was just a little scared because she’s never experienced it before,” You answered with a small smile, “Spence calmed her down.”

“We saw, he’s an amazing dad. He was so good with Henry when he was younger too I’m so happy he has a kid of his own now,” JJ smiled.

Your smile grew hearing JJ say that. “He is an amazing dad,” You looked over at your husband, “He’s great. Spencer’s birthday is coming up and I really wanted to take him to dinner while we are in New York, Could you possibly watch Delilah tonight? It won’t be late because I know you will both have to be up early to start the case.”

“Oh yes! We’d love to look after her, she was so cute last time trying to read us her princess book,” Emily said.

“I might have to prep a few bits for the case but Em will be fine on her own with her she’s really good with the boys at home,” JJ said.

“Okay, thank you guys so much,” You took your coffee and returned to your seat.

——————

It was already 4:30 pm when the plane landed in New York and the hotel you were staying in was about 15 minutes away. Delilah had fallen asleep just before you went into the SUV, you were hoping she’d sleep until you got to the hotel so she’d be less irritable when you told her you and Spencer were going out for dinner.

You rested your head on Spencer’s shoulder, “I have a surprise for you.”

“What is it?” Spencer raised his eyebrow in curiosity.

“I’m taking you out to dinner,” You ran your hand up and down his arm.

“Thank you, How come?” He had a big smile on his face.

“Early birthday dinner, Em and JJ are going to watch Delilah while we are out.”

“Do you think they can watch her a little longer after dinner too?” Spencer whispered into your ear.

Your cheeks clouded with blush and a little laugh left your mouth, “Stop that Spence.”

“I didn’t say anything wrong,” He said with a smug smile and a little smirk.

——————

You and Spencer walked into Carmine’s Italian restaurant hand in hand.

Once you were sat down at the table waiting for your food, he reached across the table and started drawing circles with his finger on top of your hand.

“Thank you for this,” He tucked your hair behind your ear with his other hand.

“Thank you for being you, you’re such a good Dad and husband Spence I don’t tell you enough. Happy early birthday,” You leaned across the table to kiss him.

“You tell me more than enough love but I don’t think I tell you enough that you’re an amazing Mom and wife I don’t what either of us would do without you.”

Once your food arrived you ate and made small talk together until going back to the hotel to collect your beautiful daughter from JJ and Emily.

[kaciidubs]

Walking in on Roommate! Chan | Pt. 2

❣ Summary: A lot can change in a month, but was it truly a change, or simply a realization? ❣  ❣ Word Count: 7.41k ❣ Warnings: Non!Idol AU, Roommate! Chris, fluff, smut, slice of life, slight humor, friends to lovers, slight! dom Chris, Dom/Sub dynamics, smut with feelings, sir/daddy kink ❣  ❣ Female! Reader [No use of Y/N] | You/Your pronouns ❣  ❣ Additional Tags: Chan is referred to as Chris, Channie, Baby, Sir, and Daddy, Reader is referred to as Baby, Good/Pretty Girl, and Princess, lightly edited ❣ Stray Kids Masterlist ❣ General Masterlist ❣ Pt. 1

It had been a month since the incident, and though you thought things had gone unchanged between you and Chris, your reality couldn't have been more wrong.

You seemed to linger more on every interaction with him, your brain working double time to process things he'd say or do as of they had a deeper meaning behind them - which they didn't.

He always left you little notes whenever he'd go out with Changbin for an early gym session, so why were you smiling at the hastily written messages and cutely drawn dragon-worm signature?

He always texted you on your break at work to remind you of any plans he made, so why did your heart flutter every time his contact popped up?

He always made sure your favorite snacks were in the pantry, and if you were running out he'd stock them up before you had the chance to add them on your grocery list, so why did you swoon every time your favorite bag of chips was sat on the kitchen counter?

There was no way your world flipped itself upside down over one incident, absolutely no way...

Unless.

"I'm screwed." You groaned woefully, dropping your head to the table in front of you.

Jeongin laughed, taking a piece of meat from your plate, "I told you to stop laughing at that guy's terrible jokes, now look at you!"

"What?"

"Jongsoo, the coworker you kept saying was trying to flirt with you but couldn't catch a hint?" Felix mused, tilting his head slightly, "Isn't that what we're here to talk about? 'Level three red alert', and all?"

"What? No, no," sitting up, you leveled him with a soft stare, "if this was about him, I would've picked a bar - he doesn't deserve the glory of being talked about over barbecue."

"Okay, so why are we here?" Minho huffed as he flipped a strip of beef on the tabletop grill, "Actually, better question, why am I here? Last I checked I never signed up to this whole 'red alert' code talk."

"Hyung, the last time we shared tea that you didn't know about, you ignored me and Felix for a week for 'leaving you out'." Jeongin spoke pointedly, recalling the way he practically cursed them out for 'disrespecting your elders'.

The former groaned, rolling his eyes, "Why didn't you just say you needed to shit talk someone?! Why are we speaking in code?"

"Because one of our friends has a big mouth, the other one forgets a secret is a secret the second you finish talking to him, another one likes sharing gossip online through subs and secret callout posts, one couldn't even buy a fuck to give about any gossip, and the final one... he's not allowed, he knows too much as it is already." You listed simply before taking a sip of your drink, "The group we have right now is formed out of the strongest tea holders, understand?"

"Anyways," Felix snapped you back into business, "what's happening? Why are you screwed?"

Steeling your nerves, you mentally prepared yourself for the word that were about to come out of your mouth.

"I might have a crush on someone..."

"I knew it." Minho announced smugly, taking another piece of perfectly cooked beef from the grill top.

"What?! There's no way you knew anything about this, Hyung!" Jeongin argued, sitting up in his seat next to you, "You don't even like people! How are you suddenly an insider?"

"Look at her!" He pointed the tongs in your direction, to which you tilted your head in confusion, "The past few days she's been watching her phone like a hawk whenever we all go out, she's been way too happy, and she spaces out more than usual-"

"Okay, that part could just be because of Lix's pot brownies!"

"Hey, hey, hey - ex-nay on the pot brownies-ay, okay? The whole world doesn't need to know - I only do it cause people ask me to!" The blond gritted out, pointing his fork in the direction of the youngest as a threat.

"Yeah, sure, next you're gonna say you only model for Hyunjin because he 'asks you to'."

"You little-"

"Hey!" The eldest of the boys snapped the tongs three times, effectively quieting them, "Shut up! We're here to get information, not talk about Felix's entrepreneur business, got it?" He pointed the utensil toward you yet again, "Talk. Now."

"Well- Uh... I don't know, it's not like I wanted it to happen, I was completely fine as friends with this person but then..." Shrugging your shoulders, you felt the events of the past month play back in your head, "I guess things just changed one day? Like, suddenly I could see them in this new light and now every time he does something so stupidly normal I find myself wanting to kiss him until I can't breathe."

"Ugh, that's both disgusting and cute - why did we have to talk about this over barbecue?" Jeongin whined before stuffing his face with a lettuce wrap. "Whosh th' lucky guy?"

"You really think I'm gonna reveal-"

"I swear to god, please don't say it's your coworker," Felix pouted, looking at you with pleading eyes, "you can do so much better than him - you don't have to do the charity work, I promise you."

"Lee Felix-"

"I know your heart's in the right place, but you don't have to cater to him, please."

"Would you please-"

"40 bucks says it's Chan." Minho hummed through a bite of his bulgogi.

The youngest nearly choked on his drink, swallowing a hefty gulp before coughing, "That's such a bad take! Chan Hyung? The man with negative rizz? The man who stays up long enough to say good night and good morning?"

"You say that like it's impossible!" The freckled blond argued, "It happens all the time in sitcoms!"

"Lix, please, I'd rather you not compare my life to a sitcom, I have enough happening for two seasons and a reunion episode as it is." You groaned, dropping your head in your hands with a sigh, "Can we just move on from the confession and talk about the movie night? I don't think my brain can handle the topic of my non-existent love life much longer."

Through a silent agreement, Minho ordered another round of food and the four of you continued onto much lighter - yet somehow more argument filled, conversation.

The coveted movie night was a monthly event that originally started with you and your friends, using the time Chris would be working late to have a movie marathon loaded with snacks, drinks, and cozy pajamas. It wasn't until Changbin caught word of the activity that the small gathering turned into a merged group affair; it was even enough to convince Chris to take time off to join in on the fun.

In the whirlwind of work and the existential crisis of realizing your crush, you'd completely forgotten that the event would be taking place tonight.

Funny, how fast time flies when your world is in shambles.

"Alright, that's all the blankets and pillows from the closet." Chris huffed, stepping back with his hands on his hips as he admired his handiwork; the large couch draped with various blankets and piled high with pillows that were sure to be rearranged in less than a minute of everyone's arrival.

You snuck a glance from your spot in the kitchen, a soft smile growing from his look of personal accomplishment. "Looks great, hopefully we won't have Han and Hyunjin fighting over who gets what pillow again."

He snorted out a laugh, heading over to you, "You think so? Those two could fight over who gets the last chip with an unopened bag right next to them - it's happened before!" Leaning his hip against the island, his eyes glanced over the various snacks covering the surface, "D'you need me to help with anything?"

"Um- Yeah, actually, can you get me the bowls from the cabinet? We can open the chips now, it's almost time for everyone to show up." You turned to look at the stove's clock; 7:33 PM, a little less than half an hour until your shared apartment would be filled with a sea of people.

Chris hummed, pushing himself away from the countertop, and you found your eyes drawn to his frame; a black tank top - sleeveless by his own doing - showing off the subtle build of his biceps, and a matching pair of black shorts you'd seen time and time again.

It was his staple look, simple, perfectly cozy for the impending activities, yet somehow you still felt your heartbeat racing the longer you stared.

Yes, you knew he was attractive, your friends gawked about it for weeks since you first moved in with him, but when was he this attractive?

"The big bowls, yeah?"

Snapping yourself out of your stupor, you nodded, even with his back still turned to you. "Mhm, those are perfect!"

You were in, deep.

You turned your attention back to preparing the chips, opening a bag and sneaking one of the plain potato chips when you felt a hand at the small of your back - the stack of bowls sliding onto the counter a second later.

"Here you go."

This was normal, it was normal for him and his affinity for physical touch, but you still felt a rush of electricity shoot up your spine from his touch - your body freezing as you registered just how close he was behind you.

"Ah- Thanks, Channie!"

Normal. So very, very normal.

"You need anything else?"

Lifting your gaze from the snacks in front of you, your eyes immediately found his; warm and kind, a shade of brown you caught yourself daydreaming of time and time again - distracting enough for you not to realize the mere inches between your faces.

He smelled like mahogany and lavender, a faint musk of the cologne he always wore tinted with your laundry detergent he claimed made his clothes feel softer.

"I, um..." His stare was hypnotizing, sending every productive thought in your brain out the window, "I-"

The sound of the doorbell snapped you out of your reverie, but you could've sworn you saw a hint of sadness in his eyes as he stepped back.

"That might be Han, he said he'd be coming a bit earlier."

"Yeah, no, that's fine - can you finish opening these when you get back? I'm gonna go get changed."

Chris hummed out a short "Yeah" before heading toward the front door, leaving you to collect yourself amongst the colorful serving bowls.

This was going to be a long night.

It wasn't long before everyone showed up; comfort clothes on and ready for the night's movie queue and rounds of snacks.

The seating arrangements remained in their usual layout with the mix of your friends between the couch or the floor, while you somehow always found yourself tucked between Chris and and the corner of the couch - arguably, the best part of any couch in your opinion.

This time, however, the arrangement was met with knowing side eye glances from your half of the friend group, a few of your girls sharing barely hidden smirks and whispers.

Before you could throw a pillow as a warning sign, a blanket of polyester blocked your vision and filled your nose with an all too familiar scent.

"Here," Chris hummed softly, rounding the edge of the couch to take his place next to you, "in case you get cold."

"Aw, you thought of me?" You teased, nudging his shoulder with yours as you unfolded his blanket and draped it across your legs.

"I always think of you."

His words made you freeze, your heart stuck in a limbo of floating to your throat or falling to the pit of your stomach while he carried on with the rest of the group.

I always think of you.

Always.

The revelation had the gears in your head working double time, the events of the past month playing like a movie in your mind - akin to the one currently starting on the TV in front of you.

He always thought of you, his caring nature shown in so many ways besides the ones you grew used to while living under the same roof; if you were running late coming home, you'd always have a text making sure you were safe - or, when you had important dates in your schedule, he'd be the one to remind you when they were a few days away.

Chris always did little things to show that you were on his mind, he always made it clear that you were important to him, that he cared about you as much as he did his friends.

But maybe... Maybe there was more behind it.

Your fingers glided along the blanket covering your lap, the fabric soft and welcoming like the hug of a close friend.

I always think of you.

It was like the three movies passed in the span of seconds, some of your shared friends tapping out after the second film, while the stragglers and self proclaimed cleanup crew stuck around to take in a cheesy family comedy of a man taking his family on a wild vacation.

"Min, you don't have to do that, you know," you chastized the black haired man as he washed the empty chip bowls, "I would've gotten to it in the morning!"

He scoffed out a chuckle, throwing you a knowing side eye, "Yeah, says the person who told me how much she hates the dishes with a passion stronger than Han's coffee addiction."

Deciding to protect your pride - knowing full and well he was completely correct - you wandered back into the living room where Felix and Jisung were folding one of the blankets, while Jeongin rearranged the pillows and Changbin gathered any missed trash lying around.

Felix shot you a sleepy smile, nodding his head toward the stack of folded blankets, "D'you want us to put these back in the closet?"

"No, you guys have done more than enough, seriously! I'll put them away, don't worry."

"What about this one?" Jisung held up the navy blanket you were using, Chris' navy blanket. "Want it folded? Are you still using it?"

"It's actually Chris's, I'll give it back to him."

Said man slipped away to his bedroom in the middle of the third movie, mentioning something about double checking some files for work before wishing you all a good night.

Humming in acceptance, the remaining boys gathered their belongings and headed toward the door, giving each of them a hug and making them swear to text when they each made it home safely.

Minho gave you a soft smile, though a certain glint in his eyes raised warning sign in your head, "Have a good night." He hummed with an air of mischief, slipping through the door before you had even a second to question him.

Frowning at the wood, you clicked the lock into place before gathering everything you needed to close off the living room for the night; tucking the navy blanket under your arm while balancing the other blankets in your hand. You stuffed them back into their bin in the hallway closet with ease, sliding the door shut and making your way toward your last stop of the night.

The sound of your knuckles against the door echoed through the empty hall, "Channie, you up?"

"Yeah, you can come in!"

Turning the knob, you were bathed in a soft purple light from his LED's, walking into the cozy atmosphere to see him laying on his bed with his phone in hand, "Hi."

He smiled, dropping his phone to the side as he sat up, "Hey, you - is everyone gone?"

"Yep, they helped clean up as usual, I'm just here to return this," you held up the blanket, stopping just short of the side of his bed, "thanks for letting me borrow it."

"You know, you can keep using it if you want, it's not like I won't know where it is."

Rolling your eyes, you held it out to him, "Chris, you and I both know I don't need anymore blankets in my room."

"What if you get cold?" He grinned, challenging you with glittering eyes.

"Then I'll use one of my blankets!" You laughed at his cheekiness, tossing the blanket in his direction just for him to catch it before it covered his face.

The room filled with your combined giggles, warmth settling over you as you watched him unceremoniously ball the blanket up and toss it toward his computer chair.

Just as you were about to announce your leave, your mind seemed to have a mission of its own the minute you opened your mouth.

"Can I ask you something?"

"Of course, always - what's up?"

Always - god, was he trying to drive you crazy on purpose?

You needed clarity, something to confirm that you were seeing things that weren't truly there - making a purpose out of words that were simply meant from one roommate to another, one best friend to another.

"So... About what you said in the living room, when you said you always think of me..." You dropped your gaze from his, your fingers suddenly becoming the most interesting thing to you, "Did... Did you mean it?"

"Of course I meant it, you're one of my best friends - I think about you all the time!" The smile he gave you was genuine, warm, filled with so much truth that it made your heart skip a beat.

Steeling your nerves, you looked up at him with a firm stare, "All the time?"

"Yes...? I mean, I think about other people and things too, but for the most part you've always been there... Why are you asking-"

"Did you think about me last month?"

His smile faltered, eyebrows furrowing as he searched your face for a hint of an answer. "What are you talking about?"

"Chris, did you think about me last month - when I walked into your room and I saw you-" Taking a sharp breath, you calming yourself before looking at him with pleading eyes, "Did you think of me?"

The silence was thick, the sound of your own heart filling your ears - you were certain it would beat right out of your chest and run out of the room to save you from this conversation.

"Would..." He cleared his throat, dropping his head as he picked at the sheets underneath him, "Would it be weird if I said yes?"

Your stomach flipped, your knees threatening to buckle and send you straight to the floor but you stood strong. "Would it be weird if I said I wanted you to?"

His head snapped back up and he stared at you with a look crossed between shock and awe, "Are you serious?"

"Honestly, I haven't been able to stop thinking about you." The confession took you by storm, though you couldn't find it in yourself to stop talking, "And it's not just from that night - well, some of it is, but since then it's like... enhanced? Like, every little thing you do just lingers and sometimes I think I'm just going crazy because it's not like you've done anything new - it's just you, yet my heart feels like it'll explode after every text you send, or whenever we're in the same room, and I-"

The sound of your name from his lips stopped your panicked ramble, though the look he gave you did little to calm your racing heart.

"Come here."

Offering his hand, you cautiously accepted it and let him guide you onto his bed, straddling his lap at his instance while trying not to completely evaporate from the close proximity.

"Honestly, this isn't how I thought I'd end up confessing, but I guess there's a lot about us that isn't traditional," he chuckled to himself, his hands naturally finding their home on your hips, just below the waistband of your pajama shorts. "First, I want you to know that I think about you no matter what - you're always somewhere in my mind and at first I thought it was because you're my roommate, someone I care about just like everyone else in my life. But, recently things have been changing and I..." Taking a deep breath, his eyes found yours, a firm, yet comforting gaze holding you captive in those brown irises, "I have feelings for you- I like you, more than just a roommate or a best friend, and I didn't want to ruin things between us if you didn't feel the same w-"

You cut him off with your lips against his, swallowing the rest of his sentence with a small hum of delight - soft with a hint of cherry chapstick.

He melted almost immediately, tugging you closer as a hand slid up your back to keep you pressed against his body - almost as if he allowed anymore space between you, you'd somehow disappear into his dreams.

When you went to pull away, he followed like a desperate puppy and you had to fight the urge to laugh at him, placing your hand on his chest to keep him from coming any closer. "Just so you know, that kiss means I definitely feel the same way."

Chris huffed out a giggle, narrowing his eyes playfully, "No, really? I would've never guessed!"

"Well, I know for a fact you also feel the same way." The lilt in your voice was teasing, making a show of rolling your hips against the mass that was quickly making itself known between your legs.

Biting his lip, he leveled you with a firm gaze, daring, "Don't start something you can't finish, baby."

The pet name made your heart flutter, and you tilted your head up in defiance, "What makes you think I don't wanna finish it, hm?" Grinding your hips yet again, you were able to work out a low groan from those wonderfully kissable lips, "I can finish it, Channie, just show me how."

Before you knew it, he had you wrapped up in another mind melting kiss that had you letting out a shivering moan against his mouth as you tried matching his ferocity.

"You," he panted, nipping your bottom lip, "are gonna be the death of me, you little minx."

He kissed his way down your jaw and neck, sucking and nipping at the sensitive spots he miraculously had no trouble in finding, leaving you wondering how much he truly knew about you to discover this information.

However, all of your critical thinking skills flew out the window when he sucked at a spot just underneath your jaw, turning you into a whining mess that only craved him and him alone.

Tilting your head to the side to grant him more room, you simultaneously tugged at his shirt - almost offended that he decided tonight of all nights to wear one in the privacy of his own room.

"Off, Chris."

He pulled himself away from the paradise that was your skin, gazing at you with simmering eyes, "Say please?"

Pouting, you pulled at the offending cotton once more, "Chris-"

His hands immediately found your wrists, tugging them gently behind your back as he tilted his head, fixing you with a tsk of disapproval. "Use your manners, princess, you know how this goes."

Your body temperature spiked, flashes of him saying the same fated words as a tease just to get you to beg for him before he inevitably gave you what you wanted, playing back like a film reel.

You know how this goes.

Swallowing down the demand threatening to bubble up, you relaxed in his hold and softened your undoubtedly needy gaze, "Please, Chris? Can you take your shirt off, for me?"

The smirk that stretched his lips had your stomach doing flips, the mere glimpse of the cocky energy he had inside of him making your mouth water and your pussy flutter with need.

"That's my girl."

He let go of your wrists to hike the hem of his shirt into his hands, before tugging it up and off with the coveted crossed-arm maneuver that he never failed to use as his prized flirting trick - and, god, was it a good trick.

Despite having seen him shirtless countless times, seeing him shirtless up close had your brain melting.

"Remind me to thank Changbin for keeping you in check with his gym routine."

"As much as I appreciate the compliment, could we maybe not talk about our other friends while I have you in my lap?"

Barely holding back your laughter, you nodded and slipped your own pajama shirt off in one go as a peace offering, tossing it to the floor where his currently laid. "Yes, sir - won't happen again." When he went rigid underneath you, you arched an eyebrow, "Oh? We have a sir kink, do we?"

Before you could tease him any further, he surged forward and caught your lips in a feverish kiss, passion fueled and determined as his warm hands found the new, uncharted territory of your back.

"You're playing with fire, princess." His tone was firm, laced with warning as he nipped at your plump bottom lip, "You really think you can handle it?"

The tantalizing threat of a challenge had your heart skipping a beat; you'd seen him get into one of these moods before, asking an open ended question that he already know the answer to, and playing that game now held too many promising rewards in the end.

Preparing yourself for the next words coming out of your mouth, you gave him an innocent smile, "I know I can handle it, sir."

That was the straw that broke the camel's back, graciously earning you the split second of weightlessness before you were pinned on your back with every sense of yours surrounded by Chris; the feeling of his soft, cool sheets against your back, the smell of him ingrained into the cotton threading, and the heart stopping sight of him hovering above you bathed in that soft purple glow.

"Tell me you want this." His eyes locked onto your own, brown irises filled with caution and hope, "If you want me to stop, I'll stop, and we can pretend we never let it get this far, I promise."

"I want this- God, I need this, I need you, Chris - keep going, please."

With your consent given, his fingers danced up your thighs and over the cotton shorts you wore - a matching set to the shirt that was long forgotten - before dipping past the elastic waistband to drag them back down the expanse of your thighs.

They were unceremoniously tossed to the ground with the ever growing pile of clothes, and when he turned to give your panties the same, eventual treatment, his jaw nearly dislocated from the rate it dropped at; a bright blush turning his ears and neck red.

"Holy shit- I-I mean, fuck- Please... Please tell me you planned this"

You were now laid in his bed fully nude, which meant you weren't wearing panties for as long as the movie night went on, and that thought alone had his dick painfully straining against his own shorts.

Shaking your head, you timidly knocked your knees together, bristling at the exposure of cold air against your pussy, "I, um... I really wish I could say I planned it, but I didn't." Blinking up at the ceiling, a sheepish laugh shook your shoulders, "It's more comfortable sleeping without them, you know?"

Of course, you knew he knew from a few fated encounters with him early in the mornings, courtesy of wandering eyes and a not-so-small situation he tried keeping tucked away - it seemed that between the two of you, underwear was a foreign concept in the privacy of your shared apartment.

Chris groaned, a low, aching sound that begged for mercy to be taken on him, "You're absolutely going to be the death of me, there's no way you're real right now - this has to be a dream." Resting his hands on your knees, he silently waited for your hum of permission before pulling them apart, following the angle of your thighs down to catch his first glimpse of your pussy. "Fuck, if this is a dream, please don't wake me up."

"Chris."

Your insistent whine didn't fall on deaf ears as he wasted no time in scooting down his bed and ducking his head between your legs; plump lips peppering wet kisses along your soft skin, from the inside of your knee down to the highest point of your inner thigh, before skipping entirely over your cunt to repeat the process to your other leg.

Each caress of his lips sent chills up your spine, sparks of electricity shooting through your nerves and powering the growing desire within the pit of your stomach. Thankfully, you wouldn't have to suffer much longer as his second trip down ended with the warm sensation of his tongue swiping through your lower lips with a careful curiosity.

A sound crossed between a sigh and a moan floated through him before his hands squeezed the flesh of your thighs and he all but dove his head toward your pussy; lapping messily at the arousal dripping from you while aiming to explore your fluttering walls.

"Oh, shit-" Hands flying to his hair, you gripped at the roots as shock tinted pleasure shot through you, "Oh my god, Chris- Oh, god!"

The only sounds coming from him were muffled moans and lewd slurps, the only instances of his mouth leaving your pussy being him shifting his head up to focus his devilish tongue along your clit, and him pulling away for mere seconds of air before getting back to work.

He was eating you out like a man starved, and all you could do was lay there and take it with wanton moans and whines of his name.

"Chris, baby," you panted breathlessly, fingers tugging at his roots in hopes of gaining his attention, "baby, w-wait-" Pulling a bit harder, you were met with a groan of pleasure, sending your back into a small arch as the vibrations flowed through you.

With a small gasp of air, he pulled away just enough for you to catch the shine of your arousal coating the tip of his nose and lips, pupils blown with a fog of desire that made your mouth run dry.

"What's wrong? Did I hurt you? D'you wanna stop?"

"No, no, you're amazing - if we stopped now I might actually die," giving him a reassuring smile, you brushed a few strands of hair away from his forehead, "but as wonderful as your tongue is, I'd rather come on your dick first."

"Fuck." Pressing a kiss to your inner thigh, he sat up with a groan, "We're going to have to do something about that mouth of yours."

Blinking up at him with faux innocent eyes, you tilted your head, "I'm just telling the truth, sir."

He smirked at the pout set on your lips, leaning over you to nip gently at the flesh, "That's fine, I just wonder what else it can do." Sweeping you into a feather light kiss, he murmured softly, "You'll show me later, though, won't you, princess?"

Your pussy fluttered, clenching around nothing as you nodded without hesitation - only focused on getting those pretty lips, tinted with the taste of your arousal, back on your own.

"Good girl."

Chris pulled back, laughing at your whine of disdain while his hands got to work sliding down his black shorts with ease, shifting to get them fully off and added as the final item to the pile on the floor.

In the midst of all of his moving, you were able to catch a glimpse of just exactly what he was packing and your jaw dropped - the accidental peek you'd seen a month ago barely comparing to the full on staring contest you were having now.

He was big, bigger than most you'd had before in almost every way, and you nearly began to consider if it would even fit; your gaze trailing up the slight curve it held, mouth watering at a prominent vein running along the side.

"I'll go slow."

Your gaze snapped back up to meet his own, the previously cocky aura he held now warm and comforting, and your - admittedly needless - worries subsided.

"And I meant what I said earlier," reaching over to his nightstand, he pulled open a small drawer to take out a small, obvious box, "if you want me to stop, just say so."

Leaning up on your elbows, you watched as he pulled out a foil packet, "Do you know about safewords?"

"Yeah," bringing his full attention back to you, he tilted his head, "d'you have one?"

"Pear, for a hard stop, or the light system if it's easier for you to work with."

Scoffing out a laugh, he shook his head, "Whichever works for you, baby - I'll remember."

As you laid yourself back onto his bed, he made work of ripping open the condom packet, taking out the rubber and sliding it on with careful, yet experienced ease.

"Y'know, I never thought someone could look hot while putting on a condom, but I don't mind being proven wrong." When he ducked his head in embarrassment, a familiar sheepish blush beginning to turn his ears red, you giggled at your small achievement.

"It's our first time together, I didn't want to just assume that... you know." Growing past his shyness, Chris settled himself between your legs once more, one hand holding the back of your knee while the other wrapped around the base of his cock - a shiver of brief relief running down his spine. "Ready?"

Taking a deep breath, you nodded, "Ready."

Dropping his gaze, he leaned forward to press the covered head of his dick against your glistening entrance, biting his lip at the warmth emanating through before pushing onward - working the tip past your walls slowly.

The increasing stretch had a low moan escaping you, each inch introducing a new wave of pain tinted pleasure that shot from the top of your head to your toes. "Fuck, Chris."

He wasn't faring any better on his end, the lack of attention given to his dick since you first sat in his lap had him beyond sensitive and holding fast to his promise like a lifeline - go slow, go slow.

"Relax for me, baby," he gritted out, shivering as your walls clenched around the half of his length he managed to sink in, "just a little more, okay? Just need you to let me in."

"'M trying - you're so big." You couldn't find yourself to care about the desperate whine that took your voice, not when you were being deliciously filled with more to come.

Abandoning his hold on your thigh, he licked the pad of his thumb before bringing it to your clit, rubbing gentle circles in hopes of helping you relax further - and it worked. He was able to slowly sheath the rest of his dick inside of you, breathing a sigh of relief, while you shivered underneath him, canting your hips against the consistent flicks of his thumb against your sensitive nub.

"M-Move- Oh god, please move, Channie."

"Are you sure you're ready for that? I can wait-"

"Channie," looking up at him, you tried your best to give him a firm stare through the mind fogging lust, "I need you to fuck me; the color's green, it's so green, I promise - please, just fuck me already!"

He took his thumb off of your clit in favor of holding onto your hip instead, hovering over your body and keeping himself balanced with his left hand.

Licking his lips, his eyes searched your face for any signs of doubt, but he was simply met with desire and need. "Okay, only because you said please."

A smile lit up your face, and just as you went to give him a teasing reply, your body jolted forward and a surprised moan shot past your lips instead.

Another sharp thrust rocked your body and your hands scrambled to find purchase on his broad shoulders, latching onto him to take every quick, deep thrust he delivered before he fell into a regular pace of thorough strokes that had you seeing stars.

Chris watched every subtle shift in your expression after each thrust, drinking in the cute pinch of your eyebrows and pout of your lips while the sounds of your moans created a symphony in his head.

"Beautiful," he murmured, shifting his knees to allow him to drive deeper into your dripping cunt, "my pretty girl, taking me like you're fucking made for me."

The shift in his hips led you to lift your own, and the resulting graze of his cock against your g-spot had a near pornographic moan leaving you - neighbors be damned.

Swiping his tongue across his bottom lip, he made a mental note to keep that angle as long as he could. "There it is - Fuck, look at you."

Your nails scratched down his shoulder blades, earning a sharp hiss of pain from the man above you, yet he continued on without hesitation.

"I wish I told you sooner," stifling a grunt, he switched up the pace with slow, shallow rolls of his hips, "could've had this pussy wrapped around me every fucking night."

A helpless whine vibrated through you, but the following moan was something neither you or him was prepared for.

"Daddy!"

There was a brief pause, not even lasting a full minute though it was glaringly obvious to you - even in your blissed out haze. Blinking up at him with worried eyes, you were ready to apologize for the mortifying slip up until you realized he wasn't looking down at you in disgust - but, rather, unrestrained lust.

"Daddy, hm? Is that what my pretty baby wants?" Sliding his hand down your thigh, he maneuvered to hook your leg in the crook of his arm and bring it up higher, evidently opening you up more. "I don't mind, it's fitting - you don't need sir right now anyways, isn't that right, princess? So," rutting his hips into yours, a cocky smirk curved his lips, "keep being a good girl and tell daddy just how good he's making you feel."

You could've died right then and there and considered it a fulfilling life; pinned underneath your best friend, your roommate, fucked within an inch of your sanity while he murmurs the dirtiest sentences you ever imagined from those glorious lips of his.

"O-Oh, god- P-Please, daddy-"

"Please, what, baby? I love hearing you beg, but you have to tell me what you want."

He knew what you wanted, he could feel it with each pulse of your cunt, the way your leg tensed in his hold while your body writhed underneath him - you were close, and he wanted to see just how far he could push you.

"I-I want- Fuck-" You squeezed the flexed muscle of his bicep, while your free hand fisted the pillowcase underneath your head, trying your best to gather the brain cells to make a comprehensible sentence through his unrelenting pace. "I wanna come- wanna come for you," blinking up at him with glossy eyes, you submitted instantly, "please, daddy, can I?"

Chris' pace faltered for the smallest of seconds, his heart swelling and his dick aching for the release he'd been fighting back since he entered your warm pussy - there was no use in stalling for more time, not when you needed him as much as he needed you.

"Hold it for just a little longer, princess." When you gave a displeased whine, he leaned down to kiss the pout off of your face, "It won't be long, I promise - ten seconds, you can count with me, yeah?"

Nodding desperately, you snuck another kiss from him before waiting for his next instruction, trying your best to suppress your lingering orgasm.

"Good girl - now, can you use your fingers to play with your clit for me? You can keep holding onto me, just use your free hand."

You followed his directions diligently, quickly licking your index finger before managing to work your arm between your bodies and finding your puffy clit with ease; the lightest touch sending a shock of pleasure through your system.

"'S too much, I-I can't-"

He shushed you, "You can, I know you can, just count with me, okay? Focus on me, baby - starting from ten."

Swallowing back a whine, you took a shivering breath, "T-Ten."

"Good, keep counting."

As your slow, broken countdown continued, he took the time to adjust his position one final time; sitting up straight and using his left hand to gather your leg in the same position as your right, holding you spread open and fully subject to his will.

"Seven... S-Six- Oh my god-" Your eyes rolled, your body feeling like fire was liking at each of your limbs as you rubbed quick circles around your clit.

"Don't stop counting, princess," Chris grunted, licking his lips as sweat beaded along his forehead, "come on, five."

A short sob broke past your lips, eyebrows pinching together, "I c-can't- I can't, daddy!"

"Four." He continued on, angling your legs slightly higher and focusing on the almost hypnotizing wet slapping sound of your pussy all but drenching his cock and the sheets underneath. "Three - almost there, baby, keep holding it for me."

You made a noise, not caring what it sounded like as long as it was known that you were still hanging in there, if only by a thread.

"T-Two - my perfect girl, doing so well for daddy, s-so fucking proud of you," he gritted out, breaths coming in bated pants as he exchanged the speed of this thrusts for more power, watching your back arch off of the bed in the process. "One - come, come for me, baby."

Your body followed through before your mind had the chance to comprehend his words, white-hot pleasure flooding through your veins as you came with a cry of his name - at least, you hoped the sound that came out resembled his name.

Chris groaned, doing his best to fuck you through your orgasm until he came with a shivering gasp, almost pained, high pitched whines falling from his lips with each wave; his dick quickly being surrounded by the warmth of his cum filling the latex.

Hours could've passed before you were able to come back to your senses, blinking your eyes open and dazedly looking at the man above you.

Even after sending you to the moon and back, he looked as breathtaking as ever; chest heaving and head tossed back, large hands now caressing your thighs as your feet met the mattress once more.

"Fuck." He laughed breathlessly, lifting his head to look at you with glittering eyes, "You okay? That- I didn't go too far, did I?"

Oh, he was going to be the death of you.

Shooting him a tired smile, you shook your head, "I'm more than okay - that was amazing, daddy."

You didn't miss the way his dick twitched inside of you from your words, his hands squeezing you softly.

"Princess, as much as I love hearing you say that, I might end up fucking you through the mattress if you keep it up."

Biting your lip, you not-so-subtly glanced at the open box on his nightstand before looking at him with daring eyes, "If I call you my boyfriend, can you fuck me into the next morning?"

He paused as if heavily pondering your words, then slowly pulled out of your sensitive walls with a grunt, "If you let me call you my girlfriend and let me take you on a date, you can call me both and I'll fuck you until you can't walk."

A bright smile found its way to your face and you nodded happily, "Deal, boyfriend."

With a grin as bright as the sun, he made quick work of taking off the used condom before tying it and tossing it in the small trash near his nightstand; returning to hover over you with warm eyes, "Deal, girlfriend."

Safe to say, he upheld his end of the deal with flying colors, and you planned the date as soon as you regained the ability to walk a day later.

✧. ┊Tagged lovelies: @goblinracha, @having-an-internal-crisis-rn, @midnightfrog625, @anyhow-everything, @bangchanbabygirlx, @sweetracha, @j-onedrabbles, @happilydeepestwonderland, @nightimescapes, @caitlyn98s, @ch4nn13luv, @ihrtlix, @sometimesleeknows, @jeonjungkookenthusiast1997, @instabull, @maximumkillshot, @y-ur--i, @acker-night, @dreamescapeswriting, @specialstay, @broken-glowsticks, @s00buwu, @dancerachaslut, @junglyric, @tinyelfperson, @jj-stay, @katsukis1wife, @inlovewithmusician, @keen-li, @armystay89, @main-character0, @vampcharxter, @ddyskz, @prettymiye0n, @bbgnyx, @ivyisnotokay

✧. ┊Tagged lovelies for Pt. 2 [If you want to be added to my official tag list please fill out the form below]: @turtledove824, @boi-bi-ahaha, @skzworlddomination44, @brojustfknkillm3

✧. ┊If your username is in bold italics that means tumblr won't let me tag you. If you’d like to be added to the taglist, fill out this form!

[madschiavelique]

accidentally overstimulating miguel while you’re riding him so he literally has to lift you up off him and he’s like “okay, yeah, that’s enough”

yESSSSS AAAA (i know this is not a request per se but i felt like writing a lil smth about it)

summary : overstimulating miguel while riding him to the point where he has to lift you off him... so he fingers you and gives you oral instead

content warnings : SMUT (18+) minors dni, pnv sex, oral sex (reader receiving), fingering (reader receiving), reader riding migul, overstimulation, no use of Y/N, fem!reader word count : 839

tag list : @fandom-ash

Miguel couldn't wait, it had been too long since you and him had fucked. The reasons were varied: you were on a mission and he wasn't, he was on a mission and you weren't, you were both on a mission and had to take care of business, or you had to take care of reports and other interdimensional problems.

So when you had a little more free time and he welcomed you into his home, he couldn't hold on any longer. He'd double-locked the door, and as soon as he'd done that, he'd guided you in the bedroom, pulled down your bottom, practically ripped off your panties and thrust himself inside you.

And now you'd been in there for over an hour. You were on top of Miguel, riding him, undulating your body perfectly on top of him as he just had an orgasm.

He'd gripped your buttocks tightly, taking your skin entirely between his fingers as he'd pressed his pelvis as close to yours as possible to go deep inside you.

At last, he'd let his head rest on his pillow.

Only you hadn't stopped moving. The sensations you were experiencing were delicious, his whole length and width plunged into you and stretching you to perfection. The rocking of your hips was delicious, yet Miguel's sensitivity was beginning to kick in.

It was as if you were gently caressing a fresh wound, each movement turning the touch into a painful grip.

He grunted, sighing as you continued your movements. He looked at you, absolutely magnificent above him.

He had no desire to interrupt your pleasure, to suddenly stop the superb sounds you were producing thanks to him - he was too proud of making them.

But the sensation was becoming less and less sustainable, and with a final grunt he gripped your thighs firmly and lifted you off him to let his cock fall back against his lower belly, still glistening with your juices.

"Okay," he huffed, completely out of breath and relieved, "yeah, that's enough."

You looked at him, equally breathless, the small regret that it stopped so suddenly settling on your face.

Miguel felt almost guilty at your apologetic expression, but he was unable at the moment to continue satisfying you like this, unless he proceeded otherwise...

"Still wanna go at it, nena?" he questioned, stroking your thigh.

You nodded softly, the warm desire in your lower belly still present and demanding attention.

"I'll give you a choice then," he nodded, "choose: fingers, or mouth?"

You bit your lower lip with a smile before only leaning into him and confirming:

"Both."

A low rumble vibrated in his chest as a sneer stretched one of his lips in a dark smile.

"Good choice."

In one swift movement you found yourself in his place and he in yours, towering over you with his massive body as he began a trail of kisses across your skin and you chirped under his touch.

He moved down to your lower belly, leaving small marks in his wake before bringing his hand to your wet folds, coating two of his fingers with your wetness before sliding them in.

The shaky breath you took made Miguel smile against your skin, the warmth of his breath crashing against your exposed flesh. You deserved this attention, and he was going to give it to you.

As his fingers slowly began to curve in and out of you, he came to kiss your skin, moving down with each kiss towards your clit. The sensation of his lips grazing the latter inevitably brought your hand to rest in his hair as you arched your back.

The gesture elicited a slight moan from him, which vibrated on the sensitive ball of nerves, and you sighed a mix of a breath and a moan.

His tongue made sinuous circles around your clit as his two fingers accelerated slightly. He knew which places he had to touch to make you produce the sweetest sounds, and he wasn't going to deprive himself of hearing them.

He would never tire of seeing in your eyes even the size of your desire, and he would never tire of the idea that it was meant for him. He knew how lucky he was.

Your walls were perfect, taking his thick, long fingers into you so good. He curved them while making smaller and smaller circles centered on your clit, kissing and licking it.

The state you'd been in just a few moments ago while riding Miguel was close to orgasm, and his calculated gestures were going to push you over the edge. Instinctively, your pelvis began to undulate on its own.

Your hands gripped his hair more firmly, your breath quickening as the heat rose to your cheeks and the knot tightened in your belly.

And then it all exploded, Miguel tenderly kissing your skin as you felt like he was kissing a second heart beating in your entire body. He waited a bit before pulling out his two fingers gently, bringing them to his lips, sucking them until all your juices were clean from his fingers.

Then rose to kiss you, murmuring tender words to your ears.

"You're amazing, nena, and I need you to know it."

[parfaitblogs]

you're losing me ❀ s. reid x reader

in which he's an entirely different person after prison, and your relationship is crumbling. 

pairing: spencer reid x reader genre: angst tags: post prison reid. no happy ending. argument/fight. strong language. word count: 2.0k a/n: big fan of soul crushing angst. clearly. i dreamt this one up in an everything shower. likely place for me to plan fics? whole lot of nothing happening i love yapping about sadness!! my least favourite spencer trait is that he doesn't think he deserves good things so he pushes them away so obviously i have to write novellas on him doing just that? this used to be based on tolerate it but i listened to ylm the entire time so erm. things change! lol enjoy xoxo

Perhaps you were stupid. 

Very, very stupid. And ridiculous. And every other synonym for those two words that your brain could not possibly imagine up right now. You were all of them. But also none of them. Because you also felt like there was not a single word that could describe you anymore; if there was, maybe you'd consider yourself a person. But clearly you weren't a person. Not anymore, at least. Not to him. 

An awfully painful year it had been. And maybe that's what stripped you of your right to be a person. Maybe it was the overtime. Maybe it was the lack of sleep. Maybe it was everything all at once. Maybe it was nothing at all. 

Three years of dating one man meant you learned quite a bit about who he is as a person to you. Eight years of knowing him meant you knew very well what sort of person he is in general. 

And this wasn't him. 

He was sitting on your couch. A piece of furniture that had, in just one year, erased the memory of you from it, there no longer being an indent on the right side where you always sat. A book was sat in his lap, but he wasn't properly reading it. You could tell from how slowly he turned the pages. From how he stopped every few minutes to rub his eyes, his eyebrows creasing and a quiet, irritated huff leaving his lips. 

It was a habit he had developed. 

This was how it was every night. Three o'clock came, and your body would wake you up from an otherwise restless sleep, and you would drag your feet out to where the man who should be occupying the other side of your bed, actually is. And he wouldn't look up, but you both acknowledged each other's presence, silently. 

And you would watch him for an hour. Until your eyes began to droop, and your feet started to ache, and your heart couldn't handle any more shattering for the night. And then you would drag yourself back to the bedroom, and you would climb into a now cold bed, and you would fall back asleep for another two hours. 

Like clockwork.

You were good with him. So patient. You would make him mugs of morning coffee that he wouldn't drink, and you would wash clothes he wouldn't say 'thank you' for. You wondered if he was actually grateful or not. 

You were too scared to ask. 

"Hey," you said, quietly, when he had come home from work, shrugging his bag off his shoulders, and slipping shoes off his feet. 

"Hi," he answered. As if on instinct, he moved to where you were seated at the barstool to kiss you in greeting, before brushing past and heading into the kitchen. 

You watched him for a few moments as he found a piece of bread to eat, nothing on it. Just... dry. Before your eyes returned to the laptop screen you had open in front of you, fingers tapping away at your keyboard. 

"There's been another terror threat," you said to him, tilting your head to the side. "But they let me work from home."

"Why'd they do that?" he asked, but he could not sound less interested. 

You lifted your head, because you thought he knew. "Because of you, Spence."

"Oh, okay," he answered, and you watched as he threw out half of the bread he did not eat, before he disappeared down the hallway. 

He didn't even care. 

You stared at the empty space down the hall, where he had once been, heart lodged in your throat in an uncomfortable lump you couldn't swallow. This was why you felt stupid. 

Maybe you were sick of feeling stupid. You must be, because subconsciously, your feet had already planted themselves firmly on the floor, and your legs were already taking you down the hall in the exact direction he had just disappeared to. 

He was taking his button up off when you appeared in the doorway to your bedroom, replacing it with a t-shirt. You had never seen him wear so many t-shirts until now. 

You cleared your throat, alerting him of your presence, and he turned, his eyebrows furrowing when he saw you. 

"You know you can talk to me, right?" you said, voice wavering with cautiousness. 

His lips parted, then they closed, and all he managed was a short nod, before he turned back around to find pyjama pants in his drawers. 

"Spencer, I'm serious," you pressed, taking a step into the room. "You need to talk to someone about this."

"I have those counseling sessions at work," he answered, turning back around to face you only once he was wearing pants. 

Your lips pursed. "You hate those."

"Yes, but I'm talking to someone."

"Not someone you trust!"

"And if I talk to you, it would be so different compared to a counsellor, right?"

You froze. He froze. Maybe he realised the implication of his words, you certainly did. That such a simple spoken sentence had your heart stuttering in your chest. 

You shakily exhaled. "I'd hope it would be different," you decided to say. "But I wouldn't be surprised if it isn't anymore."

He stood straighter at your comment. Perhaps not the best thing to say. Certainly not the most mature. 

"What does that mean?"

Right. The reason you decided to follow him in the first place. "I just—I don't feel like you care anymore. And I have tried to be patient, Spencer. I really have. But you shut me out, and we don't even talk anymore. I make you coffee, I do your laundry, I offer to cook, I clean up the house, I do everything I possibly can so you can focus on healing, and I can't even get a proper sentence out of you unless we're arguing."

He inhaled sharply, staring at you. "I don't know if you forgot, but I was locked in a prison for three and a half months."

Your shoulders deflated, your eyebrows creasing and lips pulling down into a frown. "Seriously? I express that I am feeling neglected, and your only response is that you've been in prison—"

"—Well, it kind of changed who I am!"

You fell silent for a few moments, trying to collect your thoughts before you threw them all in his face and actually ruined things between you two. 

"I just feel like you don't care anymore," you repeated, voice awfully soft compared to how hard your body was shaking in anxiety. 

He ran a hand through his hair, and he opened his mouth to speak with that same frustrated frown, so you cut him off. 

"And yes, I know you're dealing with everything that happened to you in prison. I only know what they told us, so I can't even imagine how much you're withholding. Because I know that's what you do. But that doesn't give you an excuse to treat me like I'm not important in your life anymore. I mean, If I'm not, then tell me. If you really don't care, or you've decided that you can't be in a relationship and process everything at the same time, then I'd like to know."

The silence is uncomfortable. And thick. And you're staring at him with eyes that burned with tears you weren't ready to shed yet. He's coming up with a response, so slowly you think maybe prison actually did break his brain. 

"I do care," he finally said, and you wondered if it took him three minutes to come up with that because he was controlling a lie. You pushed that thought out of your head. "But I also don't want you to wait for me to be better, if it's making you feel this way."

Oh.

"Okay," you manage to say, voice not above a whisper as you stared at him. 

"Okay," he echoed, and the tears you were trying so hard to keep in brimmed your waterline, blurring your vision. If he hadn't become one big blob in your vision because of them, you might've seen his eyes soften and his shoulders deflate. 

Maybe he was waiting for you to confront him about it all. So he could end things. Maybe he's been thinking about this for too long, and this was just the final push he needed. You'd like to hope it was a spur of the moment decision, and he wasn't banking on this relationship ending. 

"I'll stay at a friend's," you then murmured, wiping the tears from your eyes, sniffling pathetically. 

"No, this is—"

"—You deserve familiar walls," you cut him off. "I'm sure anything else would freak you out."

He fell silent, because you were right. But he didn't want to kick you out of your own home. He didn't want to kick you out of his life, a sickening revelation he was having all too late.

Maybe that was why, when you turned around to leave, he called your name. Pleadingly. So, you turned back, and he stared at you, and silence fell over you two again. 

"What?" you breathed out after a few too many minutes of quiet. 

"I don't know how to talk to you. Or anyone. Not—not just you."

"About what happened?"

"In general."

You stilled, confusion sweeping across your features, for the thousandth time tonight alone. "You don't have to talk to me, if you can't. Regularly, I mean. That's not... that's not what I'm asking of you. I just need you to communicate with me. I feel like you don't even have feelings for me anymore. That's where most of my issues lie."

"I do have feelings for you."

"It doesn't feel that way."

More silence. More thick, deafening silence that felt like you had submerged your head underwater. And you really just wanted to come to a final conclusion. If this was the end.

"Then is it just that you don't want to be with me anymore? If it is, please tell me," you said, voice pathetically desperate.

He stared at you some more. Silence accompanying him, like some (annoyingly) comforting best friend amidst this conversation. And you slowly nodded your head as what he wanted became clear to you, your heart stuttering uncomfortably in your chest. Your stomach flipping. 

"Indecision doesn't look good on you," you finally cut through the blanket of quiet. "I need a verbal answer, Spencer."

"I do want to be with you—"

"—Then fight, dammit!" you finally snapped, the tears you had managed to control coming back to you, a sob lodging in your throat. "I am sick of you saying you do feel this, and you don't feel that. Make a fucking decision. Please. I cannot keep up a fight for the both of us anymore. You're losing me here, Spencer."

"I'm scared!" he shouted, and you took a step back, his voice vibrating throughout the room. He waged an internal battle for a few moments at your recoil. "That. That right there is what I'm scared of. I am so scared of scaring you."

"You scare me more when you shut down. I will take your anger over your silence."

"I won't," he snapped, watching you flinch. Again. You wanted to stop flinching. 

"It proves to me that you're actually feeling things. Spencer, I feel like I've been living with a ghost."

"I can't control my anger anymore," he added your name with a voice crack, mirroring your heart.

You blink some more tears down your cheeks. "You don't have to. You are allowed to be angry."

"Not around you," he shook his head, his hands brushing curls out of his face. "What if I—I hurt you."

"What if you don't?"

It seemed he hadn't considered that possibility, because he fell silent, and averted his gaze to the ground. He shook his head after a beat. "I can't take that risk."

You stared at him for a moment longer, weighing up your options, before you sighed. "Fine. Don't." He said your name again. "No. If you're not willing to fight, then... then fine. Don't fight. But neither will I."

He didn't say anything as you took a step back from the room. And even as you stilled for a few seconds longer, achingly but silently begging him to ask you to stay, he didn't utter a word. Which was, really, all you needed in confirmation. 

And so you left.

your reblogs and replies are always appreciated dearly ♡

[pedroscurls]

in every lifetime (pt. 5)

summary: you invite logan back up to your apartment to dry off and he ends up spending the night... the beginning of something new for the both of you. pairing: logan howlett x fem!reader tags / warnings: post deadpool & wolverine ("worst" logan!variant), smut (18+, mdni) - missionary, unprotected p in v, no use of y/n, logan finally gets a happy ending that he deserves. word count: 3.3k a/n: i'm so sorry for the delay... part of me didn't want to write it because it means that this story is complete, but thank you thank you thank you to everyone who's read this story, who's left comments, and liked it! this story holds a special place to my heart and the first ever logan fic i've ever written so it means a lot. i hope you all enjoyed this story as much as i did writing it. also - i know the song is so 90s, but i just kept imagining the reader and logan having a very sensual night while this song is playing... anyway, enjoy the last and final part! 💛💙 song: i knew i loved you by savage garden prev. part

Finally. 

Logan practically melts into you, arms snaking around your frame so gently. Your grip around him tightens and he can feel your tears trickle down your cheeks, meeting your joined lips. It’s a gentle kiss, soft and slow, and there’s an unspoken fear; you’re both afraid that this is just a fleeting moment, that one of you is going to pull away and realize that this isn’t what you want after all. That the fear and pain of losing each other in your own universes are just too much to bear. 

But when you both do decide to pull away, rain pattering down on the both of you, the look on each other’s face is one of relief. 

“Hey bub,” Logan whispers, lips gently brushing against yours. 

You stare up at him, the look of complete vulnerability in his expression. He’s no longer hiding from you– the walls that he surrounded himself long gone as he stares at you. This Logan won’t ever be the same as the one you lost, but the one standing in front of you gives you hope for a future that you only ever dreamed of having with him. You’re sure that in every universe out there, your love for Logan is just as strong as the one in this universe. 

“Spend the night?” you ask quietly, hesitantly. 

“Are you– Are you sure?” Logan knows what you’re implying and despite the subtle excitement that flickers in his eyes, he knows that he doesn’t want to push this… doesn’t want to push you. 

And just like in his universe, you catch on to his hesitation. Can see the look of uncertainty in his eyes. You can see him thinking. Gently, you bring a hand up to his cheek, brushing the pad of your thumb across it before you lift it further to stroke his wet hair back and away from his face. 

“I’m sure.”

“But Laura–”

“Not home tonight.” 

Logan lets out a shaky breath. He’s been alive for almost two hundred years and here you are, making him nervous. “Okay, bub. I’ll spend the night.” 

You catch him by surprise by leaning up to press your lips against his that he almost stumbles back, but his arms tighten around you further and he leans back in and purses his lips against yours. Slowly, you move your lips with his and Logan can feel the excitement begin to build in the pit of his stomach. 

“We should head inside,” he mumbles into the kiss, pulling away briefly to rest his forehead against yours. “I don’t want you getting sick. We’ve been standing in the cold rain…”

You nod and then release your hold on him to bring him back inside your apartment. Once inside, you shut the door and lock it behind you. Standing in the hallway, you’re both dripping wet and you walk towards your thermostat to turn up the heat. 

“I’ve got some old clothes of Logan’s if you don’t mind,” you say quietly, biting your lower lip. “Is that weird?” 

Logan shakes his head. He walks over to you, the sound of his wet boots making quiet squeaky sounds against your hardwood floors. “I don’t mind, but…” he begins. “Will you?” 

You shrug your shoulders. You don’t know how you’d react to seeing your Logan’s clothes on some other version of him. “Only one way to find out, right?”

“I just…” Logan sighs. “I want you to be comfortable and I don’t mind taking this slow, baby.”

Baby. 

You shut your eyes and wrap your arms around him, face burying into his chest. You let out a shaky breath and feel his arms wrap around you, enveloping you in his warm embrace. Logan had always been your personal heater, his body always running hot, and this version is no different. 

Logan places a soft kiss on the crown of your head and slowly pulls away to look down at you. “We should really get you out of these wet clothes.” 

“We both should get out of these wet clothes. Come on.” You lead him further down the hallway and into your bedroom, leaving a wet trail on your floors. Once inside, Logan bends down to remove his boots and socks, setting it near the door as he catches you lifting the end of your crewneck over your head. He sees a sliver of your skin and immediately peels his gaze away from you, turning around to face the wall. 

“Logan, what are you doing?” you let out a quiet giggle and it takes everything in him not to just turn around. The sound of your laughter had always made him feel so happy, especially when he was the one making you laugh. “You can turn around. It’s okay.” 

Clearing his throat, he turns around and looks at you. You’re now standing in just a towel, a pool of your wet clothes around your ankles. But the sight of your smile makes his heart skip a beat. The way it meets your eyes, a flicker of contentment in your features… and it’s all because of him. 

“I’m going to rinse off,” you tell him. “I’ll go and use Laura’s bathroom down the hall. You can use mine.” You walk towards your closet and grab a few change of clothes, in addition to an extra towel. You bite your lower lip, keeping one hand to hold the towel up against your body. You hand him the clothes and towel, leaning up to gently peck his lips. “Then I’ll grab our wet clothes and put it in the washer.” 

As you’re walking away and out of your bedroom, Logan gently reaches out for your free hand. He turns you around and pulls you against him, leaning down to capture your lips in a heated kiss. He growls against you– the fact that you’re only using a towel to cover yourself causes an excitement to rush over him. 

Logan feels your lips move against his, urging him to continue the kiss. He releases his hold on your hand and instead moves his hand to your lower back. For a brief moment, you move your own hands to his wet hair, having long forgotten the towel that you’re holding up as it slips. 

“Bub,” Logan whispers, slowly pulling away as he feels you gently bite down on his lower lip. He growls at that and then glances down to see just enough of your bare front before you wrap the towel back around yourself. He clears his throat and feels his length stir beneath his jeans – it’s uncomfortable and tight, especially since he’s completely soaked from the rain. 

“I’m going,” you reply quietly. “I’m going.” You turn around and walk out of your bedroom, glancing over your shoulder to catch his gaze and you smile. “You should get going too, baby.”

Baby. 

Logan grins at that and nods, turning on his heel and walking to your bathroom.

—

By the time you're showering, you’re dressed in a pair of pajama shorts and an oversized white t-shirt that reach your mid-thighs. You’re in the laundry room, putting yours and Logan’s clothes in the washer when you feel his strong arms wrap around you from behind. 

You shut your eyes and lean back against his chest, hands coming down to rest over his. You tilt your head upwards and feel his lips brush against the side of your neck, the feel of his facial hair tickling you. You let out a quiet giggle and Logan smiles against you, holding you firmly against him. The tension in the air thickens and you open your eyes to press the start button on the washer. Once the machine starts, Logan turns you around and stares deeply into your eyes. 

Your gaze lowers to see what he’s wearing, biting your lower lip. He’s wearing only a pair of boxers and he’s shirtless. Of fucking course. Your eyes deviate even further as you gently reach out to touch the muscles at his abdomen and move them up his strong chest and to his shoulders. 

“Hi,” he whispers. 

“Hi,” you answer, feeling the heat in your cheeks rise as you obviously ogle him. 

“Do you– Are you–” you clear your throat. “Sorry. Are you thirsty? Do you want water?” 

Logan shakes his head. “Just want you, bub.” 

You nod and then take his hand, leading him back to your bedroom. You’ve already cleaned up the wet mess you both left and your entire apartment is warm enough that you’ve already turned the heater off, but the tension makes you feel hotter than normal. Logan’s touch sends an electrifying shock through your body and once inside, you’re about to push on his chest to have him sit on the bed but he catches you by surprise when he scoops you into his arms and gently lays you down on your bed. 

He climbs in after you and gets underneath the sheets with you, instantly pulling you into his arms. Logan can feel the tension in the air, can practically smell your arousal, but he makes no comment. He wants you to set the pace, wants you to decide what you want, wants you to choose what to do next. 

You turn on your side and rest your head on his shoulder, moving a hand to rest on his bare chest. “Logan, I–” you stop yourself, biting your lower lip. 

He turns to look down at you, hand cupping your cheek. He had always been so gentle with you. Those same hands had caused so much pain, so much hurt, but with you… Logan’s always been a different man. You had awoken something inside of him that he never knew existed and when he lost you in his universe, that part of him died with you. 

But getting the chance to be with you again, even if it’s a different version of you, makes him hopeful for the future. Makes him hopeful that he can finally be happy. With you. Always with you. 

“I’m here,” he whispers. “I’m here.” 

You let a small smile line your lips and you turn to lie on your back, bringing him to hover above you. Logan rests his hands at either side of your head, settling himself between your legs as he looks down at you. He can hear the quiet pitter patter of the rain hit your window, the small lamp on your nightstands providing just the right amount of light to illuminate you. Your hair splays against your pillow and you’re looking up at him with the same look you always had. Even in his universe. 

In your eyes, he can do no wrong. 

In your eyes, you see someone more than just the wolverine. 

In your eyes, you see someone worth loving. 

“I promise,” Logan whispers quietly. “I promise I’m going to always keep you safe, no matter what.” 

“I know, Logan,” you say softly. “You have a good heart. Always have.” 

Tears sting his eyes and he leans down to peck your lips, careful not to crush you. “I don’t deserve you…” 

“Yes, you do,” you reply. Your hands move to his arms, fingertips brushing against the chiseled muscles. “Everyone deserves to be happy, to be loved… Even you, Logan. Especially you.”

Logan feels his heart swell at your words, can feel the emotion taking over him as he remembers his dream earlier that night. His world’s version of you had said the same thing and while he isn’t even sure it was ever real, hearing those words come from you makes his heart race.

He doesn’t know what he ever did in his life to ever deserve someone like you because he’s sure that he doesn’t deserve it. 

But you… The way you’re looking at him makes him feel worthy of this happiness, of your love. 

“After everything you’ve been through, why?” Logan asks honestly. “Why do you still have such a positive outlook on life? On this life?” 

You bite your lower lip and move your hands to run through his hair, seeing his eyes flutter shut as he purrs quietly. “It’s not easy,” you admit. “There are days where I can’t wait for it all to end… but Laura still needs me. There are people out there who still need me…” you move one hand to wipe at your eyes, feeling tears begin to fall from your face again. “And because I promised him.”

“You’ve always been the strongest,” Logan whispers, placing a light kiss on your forehead. “The bravest,” another kiss on the tip of your nose. “And the kindest person I’ve ever met,” he finishes, leaning in to press his lips firmly against yours. 

You gasp against his lips and instantly move your lips with his own. The kiss deepens further, ignited by passion and a sudden sense of urgency. One of Logan’s hands remains on the mattress, keeping himself propped up as the other moves down to your side and leg, hooking it around his hip as he presses his lower half firmly against yours. 

You feel his hand move up and down the side of your bare leg, causing shivers to run through your body as you slowly roll your hips upwards to create some friction… Until you feel his hardened length press against your throbbing heat. 

It has been way too long and your panties are already soaked at the realization of what’s about to happen next. Logan pulls away from your lips to press firm kisses along your jawline and down the side of your neck, teeth darting out to graze your skin. His low growl against you reverberates through his entire being and he pulls away from you briefly to look down at you. 

You’re breathing heavily, eyes darkened with desire, but you’re still looking at him like he’s the only man that ever mattered. 

“Is this okay?” he asks. “I don’t want to do something you’re going to regret and I’m fine if nothing happens, but I just– I needed to ask before this goes any further.”

You bite your lower lip. “In your universe, were you a gentleman?” you tease. “I just assumed all versions of you liked to be in control and–”

Logan growls again and moves his hand underneath your shirt, finding his way to your bare breast as he runs his thumb across your peaked nipple. “Should have known,” he grins. “Once a smartass, always a smartass.” 

You whimper quietly, letting out a quiet laugh that only excites Logan even further. “You like it.”

“Oh, baby, I always have.” 

Then, he leans down again and presses his lips more firmly against yours. His hand kneads your breast into the pit of his palm and he can hear you whimper against his lips, can feel your body begin to squirm, can smell your arousal even more prominently now. 

“Logan,” you moan quietly, pulling away from the kiss. “Yes, I want this. I want you.” 

It was all Logan needed to grip your shirt in two hands, ripping it open. You gasp loudly, your front now fully exposed for him. He looks down at you and clears his throat as he leans down to wrap his lips around your nipple, flicking his tongue repeatedly against you. 

He feels your hands move down to the waistband of the boxers, urging it down his legs and he pulls back to lean on his knees. He gently takes your hands and kisses your knuckles before he pushes down his boxers past his legs, slowly kicking them off to the side as he looks down at himself. 

Extremely hard. Leaking. Throbbing. 

Logan needs you. 

He sees your eyes gaze down at him and sees the way you bite your lower lip at the sight. Then, you reach down to hook your thumbs into your panties as you begin to lower it down your legs. Logan helps you, pulling them away from you as your arousal now hits his senses at full force. He looks down between your legs, reaching down to run the length of his finger across your sex and sees your wetness glisten across his digit. 

You whimper and lift your hips, yearning for more as you try to reach down to wrap your own hand around his length. Logan stops you and hovers above you, forearm propped near your head as his other hand reaches down to grasp his manhood. He runs the tip across the length of your sex before he slowly slides into you. 

You’ve always been tight, but always felt like you were made for him. Your walls stretch to give way to him as he slowly continues to slide further into your depths. Your hands move to his shoulders, fingertips digging into his skin and he groans at the sensation. He feels your legs tighten around his hips, the heel of your feet digging into his lower back to urge him to push further into you. 

“Logan,” you moan, feeling his free hand cup your cheek as his eyes remain open to stare down at you. Your arms wrap around his shoulders, hands now linking at the nape of his neck as Logan’s hands move to either side of you when he fully slides into the hilt. He groans, dipping his head to rest his forehead against yours as he stares into your eyes. 

You let out a loud groan at the feel of his manhood filling you completely as your walls slowly give way to his girth. Slowly, Logan rolls his hips and pulls back enough before he pushes back into you. He leans in and press his lips against yours, his hips continuing its slow and deep strokes as your walls remain tight around his length. 

You whimper against his lips, mouth widening at the sensation of his deep thrusts. You know you won’t be able to last long, the feeling of his manhood sliding along your walls, his tip kissing your cervix with each thrust in, and the hair at his base brushing against your clit all bringing you closer and closer to the edge. 

Logan lowers himself enough so that his chest rests against yours as his arms wrap around your waist. He slowly picks up the pace, his skin beginning to slap against yours as it echoes off the walls of your bedroom and mixes in with the sounds of your moans and the rain from outside. 

When he feels your body begin to tremble, your walls begin to tighten even further around him, Logan quickens his thrusts. You’re both panting heavily, foreheads resting against each other, bodies pressed firmly against one another. It’s so passionate, so intense, so long overdue. 

“Logan!” you exclaim, arms tightening around his shoulders as you hold onto him when you reach your high. Logan delivers a few more thrusts before he releases inside of you, growling lowly against you. Usually, Logan likes to make sure you come at least two or three times before he comes, but he couldn’t help himself. 

He needed you. 

Just as badly as you needed him. 

—

Afterwards, Logan helps you clean yourself up, using a wet and warm towel to wipe his sticky release from between your legs. He pulls you into his arms after setting the towel aside, feeling you snuggle into his chest. He looks down at you, your eyes falling shut as you drape an arm around him as well. 

He lets out a sigh of relief and brings a hand to gently brush your hair away from your face. He leans down and presses a soft kiss on your forehead, hand lower to rest on your lower back. 

“In every lifetime,” he whispers. 

You open your eyes and smile, looking up at him.

“In every lifetime, Logan.” 

--

taglist: @its-in-the-woods @mynatureworld @wadewnstonwilson @squishyfruitloop @maybedisaster

@kellyxo1 @m1cky-y-y @flowersforbucky @namikyento

[actuallybarb]

here with me

pairing: male x gn!reader (i tagged with a lot of different male characters i find comforting, but there’s no names used so you can imagine anyone you so please)

word count: 0.6k

warnings: reader is in pain (nothing descriptive), he comforts. just fluff

a/n: i wrote this as a result of my own migraines, but i kept all the symptoms vague because any chronic pain is a bitch, and you deserve to be treated softly by the person of your choice

The apartment usually wasn’t this quiet when he got home.

Or this dark.

He set his keys on the counter and left his boots by the door, then carefully stepped through the apartment. The kitchen and living room were both empty, and the office looked like it hadn’t been touched all day.

There was no light under the bedroom door. He set a cautious hand on the doorknob, but a quiet whimper had him opening the door without question.

You were laid out on the bed, on top of the covers, with an arm draped over your eyes. The ceiling fan and rotary fan on the ground were both spinning at top speed, and he could just see a dark bag poking out under your neck.

He quietly closed the door and returned to the kitchen, now a man on a mission. He grabbed a straw and a water bottle from the fridge, then took an ice pack from the freezer and wrapped it with a dish towel. He took the last item, a bottle of painkillers, from the cabinet and silently returned to the bedroom, the only sound of his presence being the faint click as the door closed one more time.

“Baby?”

“Yeah, it’s me.”

You let out another small whimper.

“How bad is it?”

“9.5.”

Unbearable, then, if you were using an actual pain scale.

He set his items on the nightstand and took a seat beside you on the bed.

“Meds?”

“At 3.”

Only a couple hours ago, too soon to take more. He put those beside the lamp.

He uncapped the water bottle and put the straw in, then he gently tucked a hand behind your head and lifted. “Drink.”

Your lips wrapped around the straw, and he didn’t pull the bottle away until you’d swallowed at least four times. But before you could lay back down, he replaced your old ice pack with a new one. You shivered a little, but the cold was a welcome reprieve.

“Stay or go?”

You could’ve cried. He’d stuck with you through this so many times he knew your comforts by heart. He read your moods instantly, and most of the time didn’t need promptings, but he always took the time to ask when it got bad like this. And he never shamed you for only being able to say a few words at a time.

“Stay.”

It nearly came out as a sob.

He shed his jacket and started unbuttoning his jeans. “Shirt or no shirt?”

“Soft.”

He took off his current shirt and replaced it with his sleep one, nothing decorating the black fabric, just ultra-soft cotton.

“Where do you want me?”

It differed every time. Sometimes you didn’t want him at all, the thought of another person with you sending jolts of pain through your body. Other times you wanted him to stay, but on the other side of the bed. Or you wanted him close, but barely touching.

“Top.”

Or sometimes you needed him to put all of his body weight on top of you like a human weighted blanket.

“Covers?”

“No.”

He positioned himself, knees on either sides of your thighs, then he slowly lowered himself until his hands on either side of your face were the only thing keeping him up.

“Okay?”

“Okay.”

He finished lowering himself and settled his full weight against you.

You sighed in relief.

“Better?”

You nodded and tucked yourself into the crook of his neck. “Better.”

“Three taps if I’m suffocating you.”

For the first time that day, you took a deep breath and relaxed.

[sidekick-hero]

A Leash, a Van, and a Christmas Plan

steddie | rated teen | 3.7k | tags: Christmas fluff, Nurse Steve, meet-cute, Bear the dog | Read on AO3

Steve had always wanted a dog—ever since he could remember. As a kid, he would beg his parents endlessly, swearing up and down that he’d take care of it. He’d walk it, feed it, clean up after it.

Despite all his promises, a dog remained one of the few things he didn’t get as a child, right alongside the attention and affection he truly craved.

So, the moment he could afford his own flat, he knew exactly what to do. Together with his best friend Robin, he made his way to the local shelter in search of a furry companion. Robin, a self-proclaimed cat person, indulged him in this quest to fulfill his childhood dream.

They wandered the shelter for what felt like hours. Even Robin started to joke that they should just take all the dogs home. Steve, however, found the decision nearly impossible. How could he pick just one? They all deserved to feel safe and loved.

Steve was not projecting. Okay?

Anyway, just as they were about to give up, they passed what looked like an empty kennel. A faint growl stopped Steve in his tracks. Curious, he stepped closer and found a small black bundle cowering in the far corner. The dog was young, terrified, and yet somehow still looked like it was ready to take on the entire world.

“Robin!” Steve called over his shoulder. His friend was busy fussing over a golden retriever a few kennels ahead. “Can you get someone from the staff?”

A week later, after passing all the background checks and paperwork, Steve brought Cerberus home.

The name wasn’t his idea. That credit went to Dustin, one of the kids who worked at the shelter. Dustin had taken one look at the little dog and declared that it would grow into a huge, black monster, making “Cerberus” the perfect name. Steve hated it—but he liked the kid enough to keep it.

Besides, they ended up calling him Bear anyway.

That had been three years ago. Since then, Bear had grown into the huge, black monster Dustin had predicted—well, minus the monster part. Unless, of course, you counted being a total cuddle monster.

Still, Bear was a big guy, and his size alone was enough to make most people wary. It didn’t help that he was fiercely protective of Steve, growling at anyone who dared to come too close. He always needed time to warm up to new people, but once you were accepted as part of his pack, you had a loyal friend for life.

Steve didn’t mind Bear’s intimidating presence, though. If anything, it made him feel safer. As a nurse at the local hospital, his unpredictable shifts meant late-night walks were a regular part of their routine. Bear’s size and low, rumbling growl made it easy for Steve to wander through quiet streets at night without a second thought.

It was on one of those walks—a bitterly cold December night, just two days before Christmas—that everything changed.

Months of working with Chrissy, his dog trainer, had paid off in more ways than one. Steve ended up with a kind-of-well-behaved-but-stubborn dog willing to (mostly) cooperate, and Robin got herself a girlfriend who was every bit as amazing as she deserved. Even if it meant that Steve would have to spend Christmas alone this year, while Robin took Chrissy home to her parents for the first time.

Usually, walking Bear was uneventful—a blessing, considering Steve, despite being fit and regularly working out at the hospital gym, was no match for 145 pounds of determined dog. Bear stayed close to Steve’s side, happy to keep watch, growling menacingly at any perceived threats but always trusting Steve to handle things.

That’s why Steve wasn’t gripping the leash as tightly as he should have been. His thoughts were far away, preoccupied with a little boy he’d been tending to—a boy stuck in the hospital over Christmas and heartbreakingly sad about it. Steve was busy planning ways to make the holiday festive for the kids in his ward when it happened: a sudden, sharp tug on the leash.

The leash slipped from his fingers before he could react.

“Bear!” Steve shouted, his voice cracking with shock and just a little more panic than he’d like. “Come!”

Bear, however, had other ideas. He bolted, disappearing into the dense trees at the edge of the park.

“Shit. Shit. Shit.” Steve swore as he took off after him, already regretting not listening to Robin when she suggested a cat. A cat, after all, wouldn’t have him tripping through brambles and stumbling over undergrowth, with only his runner’s light bouncing wildly to guide him.

Finding a black dog in the pitch-dark night was like looking for a needle in a haystack. Impossible.

“Bear!” Steve called again, cupping his hands around his mouth to carry his voice further. “Come here, buddy!”

He stopped, straining to hear anything—a rustle, a bark, a clue—but all he got in return was the sound of his own heavy breathing and the distant hoot of an owl. The silence felt louder somehow, now that one of his senses was compromised.

The realization crept in slowly, chilling him even more than the night air: he was alone, in the dark, with his dog gone and no one else around.

His breath came in visible puffs, clouds of mist dissipating into the cold. A shiver ran through him, though he couldn’t quite tell if it was from the cold or the unsettling weight of his surroundings. The trees loomed, their shadows stretching longer than they should, and everything felt just a little off.

He was on the verge of giving up—tears prickling at the corners of his eyes, frustration mixing with fear—when a loud snap echoed through the stillness.

Steve flinched, his heart leaping into his throat.

Then, a deep, rumbling growl broke through the stillness, followed by a sharp bark.

“Bear!” Steve shouted, bolting toward the sound. More barks followed, their tone higher and lighter—not aggressive, but curious.

“Good boy,” a voice called out, shaky but trying for calm. “Or—uh—good girl? I don’t want to assume, man. Or… woman. Shit. Please don’t eat me?”

The voice sounded young, male and unmistakably terrified. Steve couldn’t blame him. Anyone would panic if they were cornered by 145 pounds of black fur and sharp teeth.

Forcing his legs to move faster and silently praying he wouldn’t trip over a stray root or branch, Steve barreled toward the commotion, his heart pounding in his chest. Bear was obviously holding someone hostage, and Steve had no idea what he was about to find.

He burst through the trees and stumbled into a clearing. There, parked at the edge, was an old van—and standing on top of it was a man.

The guy had his hands raised in a desperate, placating gesture, his voice trembling as he pleaded with Steve’s dog.

“Easy, big guy. Good boy. Or girl. Seriously, no need for violence here—”

Steve couldn’t tell you why, but the whole thing was so absurd, so completely surreal. Bear, massive and proud, sitting at the base of the van like some four-legged guardian, and the poor guy perched on the roof like he’d been treed by a bear. The adrenaline coursing through Steve’s veins, paired with the overwhelming relief that Bear was safe—and that no one appeared to be bleeding—hit him all at once.

Steve doubled over, hands on his knees, laughing in near hysteria.

Both Bear and the guy turned toward Steve’s laughter. Bear let out a low whuff, the canine equivalent of “Look what I found!” Meanwhile, the guy, clearly panicked, shouted at him.

“Run! There’s a wild beast—it’ll tear you apart if you don’t move! Hurry! I can try to distract it, but I don’t know if it’ll work.”

Another wave of laughter threatened to bubble up, but Steve managed to swallow it down. The poor guy was terrified, and yet he was still trying to save Steve. It was kind of adorable, in a completely ridiculous way.

Instead of laughing more, Steve decided to end the guy’s suffering. He walked toward them, shaking his head.

“What the fuck are you doing, man?” the guy yelled, eyes wide. “Don’t come closer! I—I don’t think I can stop it!”

Steve smiled up at him, though in the dim light—provided by the van’s headlights and his bouncing runner’s light—he doubted the guy could see it. He kept walking until he was right beside Bear, the dog’s massive head level with his waist.

Calmly, he reached down to scratch behind Bear’s ears and said, loud enough for the guy to hear, “What do you think you’re doing, huh? We talked about this. No running away, and definitely no hunting down poor, innocent people.”

Bear responded with another satisfied whuff, his tail wagging furiously despite the fact that he was still sitting.

“What. The. Actual. Fuck.” The voice from above sounded incredulous. “Are you some kind of dog whisperer or that your beast?”

Steve looked up at Bear’s hostage, and upon realizing that his runner’s light was blinding him, turned it off. He could still see well enough with the headlights casting a warm light close by after his eyes had adjusted. The first thing he noticed were the guy’s eyes. They were huge and almost black in the low light, sitting atop full lips on a pale face framed by dark curls. He was adorable and hot.

“Sorry,” Steve began, running a hand through his hair. “Not a dog whisperer, or this big guy wouldn’t have bolted the second I got distracted and loosened my grip on the leash. In my defense, though, he’s never done that before. You must smell pretty incredible for him to chase you all the way down here.”

The moment the words left his mouth, Steve wanted to slap himself. Once upon a time, he had game. Real game. But apparently, those days were long gone, and now he was reduced to this—word vomiting as soon as he came face-to-face with a hot guy.

The guy—whom Steve had silently dubbed Bambi because of those wide, enchanting doe eyes—blinked at him, utterly speechless. Steve dared to hope he was overwhelmed by Steve’s suave charm, but that hope was dashed by the guy’s next words.

“Are you for real? You’re telling me it’s my fault for smelling like dog food that your… your beast chased me down?”

Something about the incredulous tone, coupled with the faint tremor in his voice that betrayed more lingering embarrassment than true anger, lit a spark of mischief in Steve. He wanted to make the guy laugh, to banish the last traces of fear, and—let’s be honest—to see how those full lips would look wrapped around a smile.

“Not dog food, no,” Steve said, tilting his head thoughtfully. “Bear here is a professionally trained drug detection dog. So he must’ve picked up something really interesting to go off the rails like that.”

It was meant as a joke—obviously, Bear was no such thing as a professionally trained anything. But at Steve’s words, Bambi’s eyes widened to cartoonish proportions. Before Steve could assure him he was kidding, the guy scrambled to climb down the other side of the van, his movements jerky with panic.

“Whoa, hey—wait!” Steve called out, stepping forward, but it was too late.

There was a sharp slip, followed by a dull thud and a pained groan.

Steve hurried toward the spot where Bambi had hit the ground with an alarming thud, but Bear was faster.

“Please make it quick, big guy. Haven’t I suffered enough already?” came a slightly wheezing voice, followed by another soft whuff.

When Steve rounded the corner of the van, he stopped dead in his tracks, the scene before him equal parts surreal and hilarious.

Bambi was sprawled on the ground, spread-eagled, his head tilted to one side. Bear sat beside him, their faces mere inches apart. Bear’s loose fur and skin hung comically, his head tilted in a way that screamed curiosity, as if he were silently asking, “What are you doing down there?”

Steve considered taking a picture. Robin and Chrissy would never believe this otherwise. But a low groan from Bambi snapped him out of it.

“Shit. Are you okay?” Steve asked, quickly crossing the remaining distance. He dropped to his knees on Bambi’s other side, mirroring Bear’s concerned expression as he leaned over him.

“This is hell,” Bambi muttered, his voice heavy with dramatic despair. “The hellhound Cerberus has chased me to my demise, and now Charon’s coming to ferry my soul to Tartarus.”

Steve blinked. Was this guy serious? A concussion seemed likely at this point. But it was hard to ignore the weird coincidence that Bambi knew Bear’s namesake.

“I’m so sorry, man,” Steve said, raking a hand through his hair. “It was just a joke—I didn’t think you’d believe me. Robin’s right. I’m hopeless.” He let out a frustrated groan. “I mean, who almost gets someone killed trying to make them laugh?”

To Steve’s surprise, a hand reached out and found his, squeezing it once.

“You wanted to make me laugh?” Bambi asked, his voice soft.

“That’s what you’re focusing on? Not the ‘almost got you killed’ part?” Steve sighed, but a faint smile tugged at his lips. “Yeah. You looked so scared and embarrassed. I just wanted to see you smile. So I made a dumb joke… and ended up getting you hurt instead.”

Bambi—he needed to find out the guy’s name, Steve reminded himself—hummed softly, his lips quirking into a teasing smile. “So, just to be clear: You’re not a cop, and he—” he gestured toward Bear, still sitting like this was all a casual hangout in the park—“is not a drug detection dog?”

Steve let out a rueful laugh, one hand rubbing the back of his neck as warmth crept up his cheeks. “Nope. Not a cop. Not a drug detection dog. Just a pediatric nurse with a terrible sense of humor and a dog who’s usually better behaved.”

Bambi’s tentative smile grew into something full and radiant, so dazzling that Steve momentarily lost track of everything else. It was the kind of smile that made you think cheesy things, like comparing it to the sunrise—hopeful and brilliant, warming something deep in Steve’s chest.

“What’s your name?” Steve asked, shaking himself back to reality. “I keep calling you Bambi in my head, and I’m pretty sure that’s not it.”

That did it. The man on the ground burst into surprised laughter, his head tipping back as his eyes crinkled at the corners, the sound bright and unrestrained. It sent a wave of smug satisfaction through Steve, though it didn’t last long. The laughter soon faded into a low groan, Bambi wincing as the movement jostled whatever injury he’d sustained.

“Shit, sorry,” Steve blurted, words tumbling out as his concern surged. “Are you okay? God, I didn’t mean—”

The guy’s hand found Steve’s again, squeezing it firmly. “Shhh,” he soothed, his voice low and warm. “Hey, it’s okay, sweetheart. I mean, your sense of humor might be the death of me, but what a way to go, huh?”

Steve barked a startled laugh at that, though it quickly gave way to a more serious tone. “I’d really prefer you don’t die on me,” he said, pausing deliberately for the guy to fill in the gap.

“Eddie,” came the soft reply.

Steve smiled, relief and something else he couldn’t quite name washing over him. “I’d rather you don’t die on me, Eddie.”

They were both smiling at each other, the night cold and silent around them, as if the world had paused just for this moment. And then, as if the universe wanted to underscore how surreal and cinematic everything felt, it started to snow.

Big, soft flakes drifted down, landing on Eddie’s long eyelashes and melting on his nose and cheeks. Eddie’s smile widened, his expression pure delight as he laughed softly, tilting his face up to the sky. Without hesitation, he stuck out his tongue to catch a few flakes, his laughter bubbling up again at the absurdity of it.

In that instant, Steve felt very much like one of those snowflakes—falling, utterly and irrevocably.

“So, Nurse—” Eddie’s voice broke through the quiet, pulling Steve from his rose-tinted thoughts.

“Huh?” Steve blinked, realizing he’d been staring.

Eddie grinned, a hint of mischief lighting his face. “I was being sneaky, trying to find out your name,” he explained, “while also asking for a little help here. As much as I’m enjoying the view, it’s getting kind of cold down here.” He shifted slightly, wincing before adding with a smirk, “I thought I’d be clever and ask Nurse Prince Charming—that’s what I’ve been calling you in my head since we cleared up the Charon situation—to help his patient off the ground.”

Steve threw his head back and laughed, the sound warm and unrestrained. He couldn’t help but feel charmed by Eddie’s offbeat but endearing mannerisms. In all his life, he couldn’t remember meeting anyone quite like him—and they’d only known each other for a few minutes.

“It’s Steve,” he said finally, his smile lingering. “And I’d prefer to check you out real quick—” he paused, realizing how that sounded, and tried to recover, “—to make sure you didn’t hurt yourself too badly before helping you up. That okay?”

Eddie’s grin turned sly. “Oh, darling, you can check me out as much as you want,” he replied, tongue-in-cheek.

Heat flooded Steve’s cheeks at the innuendo, even as he tried to stay professional. “I didn’t mean it like that,” he muttered, though he couldn’t deny that having an excuse to touch Eddie wasn’t exactly the worst thing in the world.

“I think it’s safe to say it’s nothing life-threatening if you can joke around like that,” Steve said, shaking his head but unable to hide his fond smile.

Eddie snorted—a sound that shouldn’t have been cute but somehow was—while Steve carefully began to palpate his ribs.

“My uncle always said my last words would be a joke,” Eddie mused, wincing slightly as Steve pressed on a tender spot. “Probably after my big mouth got me into trouble.”

Steve chuckled softly, trying to keep the mood light as he continued his examination. “Well, I’m not letting you test that theory tonight, so sit tight.”

Eddie’s ribs were bruised, and he’d probably be sore for a few days, but thankfully, there was no serious injury. Steve helped him up carefully, Bear trailing close, unusually subdued but steadfast. The dog stuck by their sides as Steve walked Eddie around the van to its rear. Following Eddie’s quiet instructions, Steve opened the door and helped him settle inside.

The interior was cramped but functional. A mattress with a thick sleeping bag was tucked in the back, surrounded by scattered clothes, empty bottles, a bong, a pizza box, and an acoustic guitar propped against the passenger seat. The van had the unmistakable feel of a makeshift home, and Steve’s heart sank.

Eddie caught him staring, and a nervous laugh bubbled out as he rushed to explain. “It’s not what it looks like... God, I can’t believe I just said that. Jeez—” He cut himself off with a sharp breath, grimacing from the strain. After a moment, he added, quieter, “I know it looks bad, okay? But it’s just for a few days. Until I get back on my feet. It’s fine. Just a hiccup.”

The words were defensive, but the shame lurking beneath them hit Steve like a punch to the gut. Eddie was trying to downplay it, but the tightness in his voice gave him away. Steve wanted to say something, anything, but before he could, Bear whined softly, breaking the silence. The big dog nudged Eddie’s thigh with his muzzle, his soulful brown eyes a perfect mirror of Eddie’s own.

Eddie, who’d been so terrified of Bear earlier, now reached out instinctively, stroking the thick fur of his head and neck. His fingers found the sweet spot behind Bear’s ears, and the dog leaned into the touch, letting out a contented huff.

“You were planning to sleep here tonight?” Steve asked softly, the question heavy with concern.

Eddie didn’t look up. He just nodded, his hand still moving absently through Bear’s fur.

Steve cursed silently. The thought of Eddie spending the night in this van, in freezing temperatures, sent a chill down his spine. Even if he kept the engine running, the risks—carbon monoxide poisoning, frostbite, worse—were too high. Steve couldn’t stomach the idea.

“Come home with us,” he said, the words tumbling out before the thought had fully formed. He just knew he couldn’t leave Eddie here.

“What?” Eddie blinked, his hand pausing mid-stroke. Bear, displeased by the interruption, let out a soft, insistent whuff and nudged Eddie’s hand again.

Steve forced a smile, trying to sound casual. “Bear and I both want you to come home with us. I can bandage your ribs properly, and you can keep petting Bear. Clearly, he’s touch-starved and desperately needs some affection.”

Once again, Steve was not projecting. Okay?

Eddie raised an eyebrow, scanning his face carefully. "Oh, so Bear needs some affection, huh?”

Steve rolled his eyes, his cheeks heating. “Look, are you coming or not? Because I’m not leaving until you agree, and I’ll have you know Bear can be very persuasive.”

At that, Bear whuffed again, his tail thumping lightly against the van floor, as if to second Steve’s statement.

Eddie’s lips twitched, and for a moment, Steve thought he might actually laugh. “You’re not giving me much of a choice, are you?”

“Not really,” Steve admitted, his tone softening. “But seriously, Eddie. Let us take care of you. Just for tonight.”

Eddie hesitated, his gaze dropping to Bear, who was still gazing up at him with unrelenting devotion. Finally, he sighed, a faint smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. “Fine. But only because your dog’s giving me the eyes.”

Steve grinned, relief flooding through him. “Smart choice. Bear’s impossible to say no to.”

Bear, as if understanding, let out a low, approving bark.

As Eddie took the hand Steve offered, his fingers cold but steady, Steve felt a warmth spread through him that had nothing to do with the touch itself. It was the kind of warmth that came with hope—the quiet, surprising hope that maybe neither of them would have to spend Christmas alone this year.

[steddieas-shegoes]

always struggling

for @corrodedcoffinfest prompt 'struggling'

rated t | 971 words | no cw | tags: steddie, post-break up, modern era, open ending but assume they get back together, pre-famous corroded coffin

⚰️⚰️⚰️⚰️⚰️⚰️⚰️⚰️⚰️⚰️⚰️⚰️⚰️

“How are we still short?” Jeff mumbled under his breath.

Eddie heard him, though, and his heart sank in his chest.

“We don’t have enough.” It wasn’t a question.

Jeff shook his head.

They both looked at Gareth and Frankie unloading the van. Usually, they all took care of their own equipment, but all of them had been too impatient to find out how much they made, so Jeff and Eddie rushed inside their house to count.

They needed $268 more to pay for their travel to the festival that could actually put them in front of the right people. That’s it. $268.

And they only made $197 from their show at the bar downtown.

“So we can’t go.”

Jeff shook his head. “Not unless you can come up with $71 by tomorrow morning.”

Eddie knows if he went to Wayne, he’d find a way. He’d break open a piggy bank or withdraw from his retirement savings. He’d ask for an advance on his paycheck. Whatever it took to help Eddie achieve his dreams.

But he’d done that enough.

Jeff’s parents already covered the cost of Jeff to go, and Frankie’s parents had refused to encourage his ‘rockstar behavior.’ Gareth’s mom didn’t have anything left over after paying for his twin sisters’ back to school supplies and clothes.

“You could call-“

“No.”

Jeff nodded solemnly. “Right.”

Eddie couldn’t call Steve. Steve had helped buy him a new guitar and fix his van before their inevitable crash and burn when Eddie decided to move to Chicago and Steve wasn’t ready. He hadn’t spoken to him in months. He couldn’t call him up and ask for money.

“Maybe I could take a shift at the diner tonight. If I take the big tables, it might be enough in tips,” Jeff offered. “We could busk?”

“You know we never make good money doing that. Nobody likes the noise.”

“Maybe we’ll just have to try again next year. We can keep playing the bars.”

“Yeah. Guess so.”

Neither of them noticed Frankie or Gareth standing behind them, listening in to the dilemma.

“We didn’t make enough?” Gareth asked somberly.

“Sorry, kid. Just a bit short,” Jeff said over his shoulder.

“This is bullshit!” He yelled.

“Gare-“ Eddie started to say, standing to try to comfort him.

“No! I’m sick of struggling so much. We’re good. We deserve to be there.” Gareth continued. “We’re going.”

“Dude, we can’t just print more money.”

Gareth turned to Eddie, fire in his eyes, hands clenched into fists.

“Suck up your damn pride and call Steve. He told you if you needed anything to call him. Call him.” He stormed to his room and slammed the door.

Eddie would do anything for his band, his friends. He knew missing this festival could be one of his biggest regrets.

“Eddie, it’s fine. Gareth-“

“Is right. I should call him.”

Eddie didn’t wait for them to try to convince him otherwise. He walked to his room and closed the door, trying to figure out how to have this conversation with a man he was definitely still in love with.

No way to prepare, really.

He pulled up Steve’s name in his contact list and pressed call before he could stop himself.

It rang three times before Steve answered.

“Eddie? Are you okay?”

God, he’d missed his voice.

“Hey Steve. Sorry if I’m interrupting anything-“

“No! It’s just family movie night, but they’re all arguing about what movie to pick anyway. How’s everything?” The sound of a door closing and silence in the background followed his question.

“Um. Well.” Just spit it out. “We have a really great opportunity at Iron and Metal Fest? It’s in Seattle, and we’ve been trying to save up to go, but we uh, we fell a little short and the deadline to let them know we can play is tomorrow morning.”

“Oh. How short?”

“$71.”

“I’ll Venmo you. Will that be okay?” Steve sounded like he’d switched the phone to speaker, probably to open the app on his phone.

Eddie didn’t deserve him, never did. A man who was willing to give up happiness so Eddie could chase his dreams, offering to help make them happen despite Eddie breaking his heart.

“Steve, I-“

“It’s okay, Eds. It’ll be worth it when you’re on a sold out tour someday, right?”

Eddie ignored the vibration of a notification as his eyes welled up with tears.

“I hope so.”

There was silence for too long.

“You still wanna be a rockstar, right?” Steve asked hesitantly.

“I do!” He really did. “I just didn’t think we’d have to struggle this much in a city made for bands like us.”

“It’ll be a great interview for Rolling Stone.”

“How do you have so much faith in us?”

“I have faith in you, Eds. Always have, always will. You’re gonna make it.”

“You’re too good to me.”

“Nah.” Someone knocked on the door and Steve whispered something to them before speaking to Eddie again. “Hey, I have to go. But I hope you wow everyone at that festival, okay?”

“Yeah. Thanks, Stevie.”

When he checked his notifications, Steve had sent him $500.

He cried for 20 minutes before he went and told the guys.

****

The show was incredible and Eddie had never been more miserable.

The guys were on a high no drug could match, but Eddie was sinking further into a pit of despair.

“Never known you to look this sad after a show.”

Eddie’s head shot up to see Steve standing against a few extra speakers backstage.

“Steve? What’re you doing here?” Eddie walked closer, worried he was seeing things.

“Couldn’t miss your biggest show yet. Hope it’s okay.”

“Of course it is. I’m glad you came.”

“Yeah?”

Eddie smiled, feeling some of the heavy weight lift from his shoulders. “Yeah.”