#best before the ides of March

[rosewind2007]

[nappingpaperclip]

some pictures from the March on Washington

Freedom Plaza, Washington D.C.

January 13th, 2024

[hobisexually]

x

[tthoughtdaughter]

bad habits.

pairing: dealer!ellie x reader.

summary: when you were a kid you had always put a pillow or a big stuffed animal between your legs, you honestly felt comfort by it. but tonight you decided it was going to be somebodies head.

warnings: uh widely ellie giving head?, use of drugs, girls kissing 🤯, swearing, a little bit of dacryphilia, pretty self-indulgent i know its weird im sorry — MINORS DNI !!

a/n: just because the strikes ended does not mean you shouldnt stop posting about palestine!

———————

you were helpless, depressed even. being locked up in your dorm for god knows how long. your friends had been nagging you about various parties on campus, you simply just left them on read, not wanting to deal with the aftermath of the party.

it wasnt until now that you had decided to go. not because you wanted to, you were going against your own will.

your friends, isabella, mattie and thea were forcing you out of your dorm because the state you were in right now was just honestly disgusting.

you were packing a bag to go over to isabellas house because they werent letting you stay in that dorm for a minute more, when thea said. “youve been stuck in here for forever, we havent seen you in awhile, we miss you girl.”

you sighed, reaching over to your closet to find an outfit appropriate for tonight. “look i know, things just havent been the best right now.” you didnt bother to look back because you know all thats going to be written on their faces will be pity.

“can you guys help me pick an outfit atleast?” they squeal, marching over to you before yanking you out of their ways.

mattie held up a dress, it was pink, delicate, something you would were on a picnic.

“dude, thats so basic.” isabella called out from the side, rolling her eyes at matties choice.

“i dont wear stuff like this— how would i fucking know?” she huffed.

“calm down guys, why dont we let ms depresso give us an idea of what she wants?” thea shouts over the teo annoyingly loud girls.

“i— depresso? seriously? not even funny.” you roll your eyes before pulling up pinterest on your phone, you always managed to find decent outfits off of the app.

you typed in ‘party outfits aesthetic.’ before you landed on something similar you had in your closet.

the outfit had a mini, mini, mini, mini black skirt paired with a black lettuce-cut, corset bralette looking thingy and just below that, knee-high boots. you admit it, you looked hot as fuck.

“damn girl, if i were gay id definitely hit you up.” way to go isabella, way to go.

“oh please youre totally into girls, youre acting like you dont eye that dina girl everytime we walk around her area on campus.” mattie adds.

isabella did everything in her will power to ignore the comment, but she couldnt help but blush.

the look of approval shot around the room was hilarious and you all burst out into laughter. you really havent felt this good in awhile.

quickly memorising the girl mattie had mentioned before, you could remember she would always be hanging around with someone else.

“hey, any of you know the girl dina hangs with? i cant think of her name.” you think hard, like really hard, you knew the girl was attractive from all the times you had seen her since isabella coincidentally hung there too.

“yeah, her names ellie, i buy from her sometimes. why, you got the hots for her?” thea teases.

“just shut up and give me her insta.” you roll your eyes, playfully shoving the girl as the two others made ‘oooooh’ sounds.

“fine, just give me a second.” thea whips out her phone and starts going through her following. she clicks on a profile and holds the phone up to you so you could get a good look.

her account was private, by the looks of it she had a batman smoking weed profile picture? interesting.. her user was ‘@ellieisawesome327.’

sounds like a name some 5 year old would put on secretly. “oh, interesting.” you couldnt help but giggle, she obviously wasnt the best at using this stuff.”

you pulled out your phone and searched for her user, you didnt follow it just yet, you thought it would be creepy since she didnt know you at all. you simply just kept the name in the search bar, ready for when you actually want to follow her.

———————

a few hours had passed and you all had gotten done up, makeup, hair, outfits, everything you would do before a party.

“whos car we taken’?” mattie asked. you and the others looked at her like she was some idiot.

“theres only one car in the driveway, take a guess numbskull?” thea pointed out, mattie pouted.

“rude.” she huffed. turning around to scroll on tiktok.

you were sitting on the bed, getting comfy since the party wasnt for another hour, when you spotted one of isabellas pillow. you had put it between your legs, you found some comfort in doing that ever since you were a kid, it was a weird and bad habit.

“whatre ya’ doin silly?” isabella pointed out, she sort of new you had this weird habit of putting things between your legs.

“getting comfy, what does it look like?” you roll your eyes, scrolling through your instagram feed.

“if you actually want something between your legs, try and get head tonight.” isabella added. it was a harmless joke, your group had always joked like this. you toned out the muffled giggles in the back thinking if you should actually get laid tonight.

it had been awhile since you had had sex, and it was getting annoying hearing everyones ‘wild’ stories.

you tool the pillow out from between your legs and threw it back into its position it was in before.

“you guys think we should get going? the parties in twenty minutes.” thea said. you all nodded and got up from your positions to march off to the car.

the drive was ten minutes, you put on your group playlist, it was made for roadtrips you guys took every once and awhile. but tonight you just needed to hear something other then their voices.

you were all vibing to the music when it eventually came to a stop. you sighed and got out of the car, shivering as the cold wind hit your very exposed body.

everyone walked in, it wasnt exactly packed, but you hesitated and mattie noticed that.

mattie was the average femme grouped masc. the one to carry around the shopping bags when you went shopping kind of girl. she was sweet, there were times where you had found yourself harmlessly crushing over her. she knew you had a bit of anxiety and offered you some of her meds before leaving but you kindly declined.

now obviously regretting your decision, she gripped onto your hand and squeezed it tight, for reassurance. you smiled and walked in with the others.

———————

it had been 2 hours and the group had split, isa probably off eating dinas face off, mattie chatting with some of the guys from a basketball team she had played against when faking being a guy as a dare, and thea off buying or even selling drugs. you were sat on a dusty old couch, not exactly wasted but definitely not sober.

you hadnt noticed you were sitting next to the girl whos instagram you were stalking earlier. but the realisation hit when you smelt weed from her direction.

she was very obviously eye fucking you, she wasnt even shy about it, it couldve been the weed that was in her system or she was wildly bold.

“hey?” you started off your soon long to be conversation.

“hi.” she was caught off guard when she realised you were talking to her.

“ellie right?” she nodded and you exchanged your name to her, along with numbers. you sat back further into the couch, parting your legs a little giving her a slight view of what was under you skirt. you enjoyed the fact that she was looking. a little smirk appeared on your face and she didnt notice it.

“my friend thea buys from you right?” she snapped her head up to look into your eyes. you noticed the green in her eyes under the blue hue of the lights in the room. she nodded,

“yeah why? wanna buy from me?” you shook your head.

“kinda tight on money right now, i would though.” you sighed, resting your head on your hand.

she thought for a minute. “ill share a blunt with you, only coz’ youre cute.” she winked and you blushed.

“oh, thanks..” you stare off awkwardly waiting for her to light it, she was wondering if she made you uncomfortable.

“s—sorry, didnt mean to make you uncomfortable.” you shook your head a smiled before she handed you the joint.

you took a puff and handed it back to her, waiting a bit before exhaling. you noticed she was manspreading. then you noticed she didnt quite look like any other girls that were at the party, very masculine. is she lesbian? no surely not, maybe she just likes being comfortable.

ellie was wearing a worn-out jacket, joels. she wore it everywhere she went.

she caught you staring at the position she was in, fighting the urge to spread them further. you noticed she was holding back from something and looked up at her, oh shit she caught you.

a shit eating grin was plastered on her face. “you ‘kay?” she asked, the same smug expression written all over her face.

you nodded and took the blunt out of her hand. you were blushing under the dim lights in the corner, the rest of the place was filled with colourful lights changing every second.

she started blushing too, she didnt know why. you looked up to her with parted lips. the high kind of kicking in now.

“can i.. kiss you?” you asked softly. you regretted that so hard, fuck fuck fuck she probably doesnt like girls..

she moved closer, draping a hand over your shoulder. “thought youd never ask.” she smirked before smashing her lips onto yours.

the kiss was hungry, like she was desperate for something, you couldnt quite place your tongue on it. the only thing placed on your tongue right now was hers. you kissed her back with just as much passion.

the moans you let out were absolutely pornographic. ellie knew she had to do something about this, stopping the kiss whilst you let out a whine from the lack of attention.

you were borderline wet, like waterpark wet, and it wasnt helping that you were wearing a flimsy skirt that had rode up in the process.

“cmon’ princess.” she took your hand, you felt a bit clumsy for some reason, dizzy, your head was foggy, only thinking about how good she tasted.

you followed her around as she knocked on various locked rooms. finally breaking one open, she slammed it shut, locking it and pressing you up against it. not to hard though, wouldnt wanna hurt your pretty little head.

“fuck, youre so goddamn hot.” she mumbled between kisses. you couldnt help but moan at how turned on she made you feel.

she pushed her knee up between your thighs and you shivered, grinding down onto it. chasing the very needed friction.

you wondered how such an innocent question like ‘can i kiss you?’ turned into you riding on her knee.

“els’, please..” that shit eating grin reappeared on her face and you just wanted to smack it right off, you rolled your eyes. your words and wetness only boosted her ego more.

“please what baby?” she teased. why was she teasing you? you couldnt take it. tears started bubbling in your eyes.

“please just— fuck me.” you mumble out. she liked the sight of you crying, so desperate for her. she was going to tease you more before you actually got what you wanted.

“what was that?” she smirked.

you looked up at her through teary eyes. “can you, uh— go down on me? please?” you were begging, that was a sight.

she pulled you over to the bed, through the dimly light room. “strip.”

you did as she said, it wasnt hard to take off your clothes since there was barely anything on you. first your top, leaving you in a skimpy black lacy bra to match your underwear. then came the boots and skirt.

finally, leaving you in a two piece set. she was waiting patiently for you to take them off. you dont know why you were so hesitant, maybe it was because you hadnt done this in awhile, or maybe it was because her stare was so intense it made your stomach do flips, distracting you from the easy task.

she walked over to help you since you couldnt finish what you had started. “d’ you want this?” you nodded painfully slow.

she peeled off your underwear, holding them up to get a good look before back down to your now bare cunt. it was dripping at the sight of her.

“s’ wet for me princess.” she smirked once more, if she smirked anymore her face would probably get stuck like that.

then came the bra, she asked you to turn around so she could unclip it, she was slightly struggling since she wasnt used to these fancy bras, only because she wears a sports bra.

you giggled and reached your arms behind you to take it off, turning around to leave her ogling at the sight of you.

“youre so beautiful.” you blushed, hard. she looked up at you for some sort of reassurance and you nodded.

a minute ago she was so dominant and now shes sweeter than a cookie. you adored that.

she reached her hands out to cup your tits, so soft, she thought. squeezing them and pinching your now hardened, pebbled nipples.

she elicited a moan out of you. you sat back on the bed for comfort and she dived into them. sucking harshly on your tits.

you couldnt tell if you hated it or loved it, your monas were telling her otherwise.

she left purple marks all over your neck, tits, stomach, anywhere she could mark really. you were huffing, all you needed her to do was touch you down there.

“patience baby.” she replied to your subtle huffs. you rolled your eyes, pleading with your body language as you rolled your hips into nothing.

her head moved down slowly, taking time with your body as if you werent some one night stand. did she actually like you?

she kissed all over your stomach and you felt giddy, you were giggling at how it tickled.

the she dipped her head low, taking in how soaked you were. the whole time you had been rubbing your thighs together. any subtle touch made you go crazy.

she fully dived in, and you moaned her name out, loud enough to here over the booming music. “e-els!” she teased your clit with her tongue, licking a stripe down, giving your clit kitten kisses.

her tongue reached places your fingers couldn’t surprisingly. you couldnt stop panting. it felt like heaven.

your vision was going blurry, white, if the coil in your belly bubbled anymore it was going to snap. “ellie.. i—im gonna!..” she moaned into your pussy, sending hypnotising vibrations into it.

“i know baby, come for me.” those words was the thing that snapped the bubbling coil.

you felt hot slick pool out of you, she lapped up all she could, almost overstimulating you. you were panting.

she got up and laid beside you, toying with your plush tits. you could almost fall asleep right then and there.

“alright,” she patted your thigh. “i gotta get going, heres my number though.” she pulled out a random piece of paper from her pocket and a pen. had she been preparing for this? you thought. she handed you the note like a little kindergartener and put her shirt back on.

you had the sudden urge to shove a pillow between your legs, whining from the loss. you fought back everything in you to shove the pillow that was staring at you between your legs. you watched ellie leave,

she left you on the bed looking back at you to smile before closing the door behind you. you eventually got up and put your clothes on, walking over to the bathroom that was in the small room to fix up your hair and makeup.

you realised your hand was still clutching that little piece of paper. you looked at it and read it slowly, still regaining composure.

‘**** **** **** **** message me ;) x’

you probably werent going to message her, but just incase, you slipped the note into your purse and walked out of the room going to look for you friends to take them home, luckily ellie had sobered you up.

———————

a/n: im sorry the ending actually sucks i was getting sick of this and i needed to get it out of my drafts. should i turn it into a series were reader actually messages ellie? idk.

[hauntedhowlett-writes]

title: toyin’ with them older guys

pairing: bartender!joel miller/female reader

rating: explicit (18+ MDNI)

chapters: 1/1

read on ao3 | masterlist

summary:

Joel Miller is the grumpy bartender and owner of your favorite bar near campus, where you attend trivia every Tuesday night. Thinking there’s no way Joel could return your feelings, your friend suggests trying out Tinder.

But when you bring them to the bar for a date, they keep leaving mid date with no explanation.

Maybe there’s something Joel isn’t telling you after all.

author’s note: thank you to everyone who hyped me up to post this when i wasn’t sure how i felt about it. your comments mean the world 💕

content warnings/additional tags: explicit sexual content (18+ MDNI), alternate universe - no cordyceps outbreak, no use of y/n, unspecified age gap, alcohol references/consumption, possessive behavior, jealousy, mild violence (in the form of Joel kicking someone out of his bar), brief reference to Sarah’s mom and divorce, tinder dates, bribery, dirty talk, begging, pet names, praise kink, unprotected p in v, oral (m receiving), spanking. let me know if i’ve missed anything!

There’s a bar near the university that you love to go to for multiple reasons.

For one, they have great drinks. For two, their loaded tater tots are the best drunk food you’ve ever had the pleasure of consuming.

But the number one reason, above all else, is the grumpy bartender and owner, Joel Miller.

The first time you saw him, he was challenging a kid with a fake ID, his arms crossed over his broad chest, emphasizing the strain of his flannel over his biceps. When the kid tried to take a swing at him, he grabbed his arm and twisted it behind his back before marching him out of the bar and kicking him to the curb.

Your friend had to remind you to breathe.

He hosts a trivia night at the bar on Tuesday nights, the perfect excuse to see the man weekly. You sit at the bar each time, scribbling your answers on the notepad as you sip on a vodka cranberry and sneak glances at the older man while he works.

One night, you were struggling to answer a question about where the Lord of the Rings trilogy was filmed when Joel leaned across the bar, bringing his lips close to your ear to say, “New Zealand.”

You’d gotten the point, thanks to him. And from that day forward, he’d linger near your corner of the bar, watching to see if you needed help with an answer. Eventually, you started showing up earlier and earlier for trivia night, just for the chance to talk to him.

You told him about your PhD program and the research you were conducting. You wanted to be a psychologist, but for now you’re just a perpetual student. You miss winter weather in Colorado, but appreciate not having to store a giant jacket anywhere in your small apartment. Your favorite season is fall, and your favorite holiday is Halloween.

He tells you about buying the bar a few years ago, after his divorce from Sarah’s mom and ensuing custody battle had been finalized, an investment he made with his brother Tommy. They’d fixed it up themselves and made it a popular local spot. His favorite movie is Indiana Jones and he prefers whiskey over any other drink.

It’s no surprise that along the way you’d fallen in love with the man.

Too bad he’d never feel the same.

————

Joel remembers the first night he saw you. Your rosy cheeks and tipsy smile as you leaned forward to say, “Vodka cranberry, please. With lime .”

“Lime, huh?” He remembers saying. You nodded your head vigorously.

“The lime is the best part,” you insisted. He chuckled.

“Not the vodka?”

“Gross, no.”

He tossed in three lime slices and you shimmied your shoulders with glee.

You come into the bar, alone, for trivia night on Tuesdays now. You’re a fountain of random facts, but every once in a while he’ll feed you an answer to help you out because he likes the smile that you give him in return.

He has no right to be looking at you the way that he finds himself doing every week. Eyes wandering to the way your jeans hug your ass or drifting to your cleavage when you rest your elbows against the bar.

But between the conversations and the trivia and the sweet smiles, he’d gone and fallen in love.

Which is why when you come to trivia night with a man who wraps an arm around your waist, Joel loses his goddamn mind and does the stupidest thing ever.

You get up to go to the bathroom and Joel leans across the bar to address the guy, keeping his eyes on the bathroom.

“I’ll give you $100 if you leave right now,” Joel says.

“What?”

“Hundred bucks if you walk out that door and don’t talk to that girl again,” he says again. He digs his wallet from his pants and pulls a bill out, setting it on the bar top.

Without further question, the man grabs the money and stuffs it in his pocket as he heads out the door. Joel feels a flash of guilt when you return from the bathroom and look around for your missing date.

“Said he had an emergency,” Joel lies. He’s surprised when you look relieved.

“He was kind of boring, anyways,” you shrug, dragging your notepad and pen closer to you. “He probably would have just dragged us down.”

Us, Joel thinks.

He could get used to that.

________

Your friend, Marie, had convinced you to try out Tinder. She was absolutely certain you were missing out on the love of your life by not swiping mindlessly through profiles that held no interest to you.

You weren’t about to confess your unrequited love for the local bartender to get her off your case, so that’s how you ended up on a date with Michael. He was a law student and liked kayaking and hiking.

You liked neither of those things, but he had curly brown hair and you had a type, so why not give it a shot?

You didn’t have it in you to be too upset when you returned from the bathroom only to find out from Joel that Michael had left. Joel slid you another vodka cranberry with lime and your night went as it always did.

When Marie asked you the next morning how the date went and you told her he bailed, she insisted on picking your next one. She chose Scott, a financial analyst at a local bank.

You’re starting to think Marie doesn’t know you very well.

Regardless, you show up at the bar for another trivia night date. Scott is tall and lean, with blonde hair and blue eyes, and he wore a suit to a bar. When you comment on it, he pulls a face and says he came straight from work.

“Not all of us are lucky enough to not have real jobs,” he says. You blink at him, surprised by the hostility.

That hostility continues when Joel approaches the two of you at the bar, lips turned down in a scowl, and Scott decides to order for you.

“She’ll take a vodka water with lemon and I’ll have Bulleit, neat.”

Joel raises his eyebrows at Scott, his eyes flicking to you briefly, before he sets a plastic cup on the bar top. He holds Michael’s gaze as he pours a shot of vodka into your cup, before using the soda gun to dispense cranberry juice. You have to bite back your smile.

“Vodka cranberry with lime,” he says, sliding you your drink. “And your whiskey will be right out.”

“That’s not what I ordered,” Scott replies.

“Yeah, but it’s what she would’ve.”

Scott sputters, face going an alarming shade of red with his indignation.

“I’ll be right back,” you mutter, taking your drink with you as you head to the bathroom.

________

“I’m not paying for that drink,” the blonde asshole says, knocking his knuckles against the bar for emphasis. Joel huffs a laugh.

“I don’t give a shit, kid. I want you out of my bar,” he says, planting both hands on the wood.

“Excuse me?”

“You heard me. Get the fuck out of my bar.”

“I’m on a date!”

“Not anymore.” Joel rounds the bar and gets up in the little weasel’s face. “Get. Out.”

The boy’s eyes go wide, like he realizes that maybe Joel isn’t playing around. He scrambles from his barstool, standing to his full height like he’s about to challenge Joel.

“You can’t kick me out, old man,” the blonde snaps.

Joel’s had enough. He fists a hand in the starched white shirt collar, driving him back towards the exit. The other patrons move out of the way, some whistling and cheering Joel on. He shoves the man out the door and looks at the doorman.

“He doesn’t come back inside,” he says. “And you? Don’t ever fuckin’ talk to her again.”

Joel returns to the bar as you’re walking up. For a moment, he worries that you may have seen him acting like a caveman getting rid of his competition, but you look around in confusion.

“Where’s Scott?” You ask.

“He forgot about somethin’ at work,” Joel says. Your brow furrows.

“Kinda weird that’s happened to me twice now,” you comment.

Joel just shrugs.

________

You don’t tell Joel about how you saw him throw Scott out of his bar that night.

You’d just left the bathroom when you saw Joel stomp out from behind the bar, his eyes dark and fixed on your date. You couldn’t hear what he was saying, but based on the affronted way Scott was responding, it wasn’t anything good.

You crept closer to the scene, but stayed amongst the crowd. Joel marched Scott backwards with a fist tangled in his collar, shoving him out the door.

“And you? Don’t you ever fuckin’ talk to her again.”

Your mouth went dry at his words and your mind reeled at the implications. Was he doing this from a place of friendship? Or…could he maybe feel the same way you do?

Only one way to find out.

You call up Travis, a good friend from undergrad who still lived in town.

“Trav, I need your help,” you say when he answers the phone.

“Burying a body type of help or financial type of help?” He replies easily.

“Actually, more experimental.”

“I don’t swing that way.”

“No, listen to me, I have a hypothesis,” you insist, explaining the situation to him. How you’ve been on two dates at Joel’s bar but each time, the men have left without another word. And how after what you witnessed, you’re inclined to believe that it’s not a coincidence.

You ask Travis to come with you to the next trivia night. All he needs to do is pretend to be there on a date with you. A bit of hand holding, maybe an arm around the waist. Nothing more.

“But what if he tries to threaten my life?” Travis asks.

“Well…I mean…every experiment has risks,” you reply flippantly. He sputters indignantly down the line. “I’ll buy you your drinks and get you tater tots.”

He’s silent for a moment before responding, “Fine. Extra jalapeños and I’m not getting well liquor.”

“Thank you!”

________

You come into his bar with another man. His arm is draped over your shoulders as you approach the bar and Joel has to set the glass he’s drying down before it shatters in his hands.

“Joel! This is Travis,” you say, gesturing to your date. He forces a smile, reaching a hand across the bar to shake his hand.

“What can I get started for you?” Joel asks. The man, Travis, orders an old-fashioned with top shelf whiskey, while you request your regular.

“I’ll be right back,” you say as Joel is pouring the drinks. You weave through the crowd towards the bathrooms and Joel leans in to address Travis.

“I’ll pay you $100 to leave this date,” Joel says.

Travis smirks. “Make it $200.”

“Are you serious?”

“That depends, are you?”

Joel’s eyes flick towards the back of the bar and he reaches into his pocket for his wallet. He pulls out four fifties, dropping them on the bar.

Travis pockets the money before adding, “You know, there’s cheaper ways to get the girl.”

“Get out,” Joel grunts. The younger man laughs his way to the door, and you appear at the bar a moment later.

“Where’d Travis go?” You ask.

“Oh, he—“

“Can I get an order of the loaded tots?” Travis asks, cutting Joel off from making up an excuse for his absence and sitting back down on the stool beside you with a shit eating grin. “She owes me.”

“Owes you?” Joel asks through gritted teeth.

“Yeah, she lost a bet. I told her I could get the number of that guy over there in less than three minutes and she doubted my charm.”

“Travis and I went to undergrad together,” you explain. “We just wanted to hang out and catch up.”

Shit.

________

Travis decides to leave after two plates of loaded tots and one too many drinks. You help him call an Uber, but you stay behind as the bar starts to clear out.

It’s just Joel behind the bar, wiping down the wood and setting bottles back to their rightful spots as you sip from a cup of water. The kitchen has closed down and the music has been shut off, leaving the two of you in loaded silence.

“So…,” you say, twirling your straw in your near empty cup. “You wanna tell me what that was all about?”

Joel’s shoulders go tense before he releases a deep sigh, turning to face you. The bar separates you, and it feels like miles of distance when all you want to do is get your hands on him now that your hypothesis has been proven.

Joel Miller likes you. And he’s been sabotaging your dates because of it. Perhaps you should be more upset, but all you can feel is an effervescent giddiness bubbling in your veins.

While he struggles to find the words, you decide to take matters into your own hands. You reach across the bar, hooking your fingers into the collar of his t-shirt and tugging him forward. You lean over to meet him halfway, pressing your lips to his.

You pull back and look into his eyes. The coffee colored brown of his irises seems darker, his eyes half lidded as he looks at you.

“You wanna get out of here?” He asks.

“Thought you’d never ask.”

________

Joel’s got one hand on the wheel of the truck and the other resting on your thigh. He has to keep a hand on you because he’s worried that if he doesn’t anchor himself, he’ll wake up from this dream.

You kissed him. You reached across the bar and dragged his lips to yours in a way he’d only dreamed of doing a thousand times since you’d sauntered into his life.

He can’t help the small smile that tilts his lips up at the thought.

“What’s got you smiling over there?” You ask, your voice teasing. He glances at you.

“You do, darlin’,” he says. He relishes in the pink that blooms across your cheeks at the pet name.

Joel drives to his house, parking the truck in the driveway of his little bungalow. His bachelor pad, as Tommy calls it.

Maybe not for much longer.

He circles the truck to open the door for you, helping you down from the cab. He keeps his hand on your low back as he leads you up the porch steps and through the door.

You toe off your shoes in the entryway, letting them join the pair of sneakers Joel left by the door. You’re wearing a pair of socks with tiny cats printed on them, the sight so endearing to him he can’t hold back his laugh.

“What?” You ask.

“Nothin’, just…like the look of you here. In my house,” he says.

“Yeah?” You take a step closer to him, toe to toe as you look up at him through your lashes.

“Yeah,” he whispers, wrapping an arm around your waist, tugging your body against his. The heat of you even through the layers of your clothes sends a shiver down his spine.

You press your hands to his chest, sliding them up and over his shoulders before linking them behind his neck.

“You gonna give me a real kiss?” You whisper back. Your lips are so tantalizingly close that they ghost across his as you speak.

He closes the distance, lips dancing with yours as he kisses you senseless. The feel of you against him, moving with him, sends sparks skittering across his skin. He’s unable to hold still, hands roaming from your back to your waist to your hips as your mouths part and your tongues tangle with increased desperation.

Joel slides his hands to the backs of your thighs, crouching slightly to lift you up, your legs wrapping around his waist. Your core slides against his growing hardness and he groans at the sensation as you let out the neediest whimper.

He wants to hear more.

He walks you both through the empty house until he reaches his bedroom, tossing you on top of sheets still rumpled from last night’s sleep. You scramble to sit up on your knees, moving to the edge of the bed and curling your fingers into the waist of his jeans.

“Can I suck your cock, Joel?” You ask, voice all breathy as you stare up at him with your big doe eyes. “Please?”

Joel’s mouth has gone bone dry. “Yeah? You want my cock in that pretty mouth of yours, sweetheart?”

You nod your head, fingers working on the buckle of his belt. His hands work in tandem with yours to get his fly open, shoving the denim down his thighs until he can step out of them. His cock tents his boxers, a wet spot already apparent on the fabric and he watches as you reach a hand out to stroke him, a groan escaping him at the feel of your warm palm against him.

“Take your clothes off and get on your knees,” Joel commands. He lifts his own shirt over his head as you unbutton and remove your pants, shimmying the tight fabric down your legs. He takes a seat on the edge of the bed as he watches you lift your shirt up and off.

His eyes rove your body hungrily. Your perfect tits and gorgeous curves, the way you flush beneath his gaze.

“Come here, baby,” he says, crooking a finger. You come to stand between his legs and he reaches around your back, unhooking your bra with deft fingers.

“You’re rather skilled at that, Mr. Miller,” you tease.

“I’m old, not dead.” He slips the straps from your shoulders, tugging the last barrier between him and your tits away. “God, baby, these all for me?”

“Mhm,” you him as he wraps his hand around the weight of one breast, thumb teasing your pert nipple.

“Tell me somethin’,” Joel asks, “why’d you bring all those boys around when you knew you needed a man?”

You lick your lips. “Didn’t know if the only man I wanted would want me back.”

Your voice is small and vulnerable as you say it, and that just won’t do. “Don’t just want you, baby. Need you.”

Your face lights up in the brightest grin. “Yeah?”

“Yeah, baby. Need you so fuckin’ bad,” he tells you, digging his fingers into your hips. “S’why I had to play dirty.”

Your smile turns downright salacious. You drop to your knees, running your hands up his thighs. “Show me how much you need me, Joel.”

________

Joel shoves his boxers down, exposing his cock to your hungry gaze. It’s gorgeously thick, the head a dark red from his arousal, a pearl of precum sitting in the slit. You lean forward and dart your tongue out to gather it.

“Don’t tease, sweetheart,” Joel says through gritted teeth. You keep your eyes fixed to his as you take him in hand, swirling your tongue over the sensitive head before taking him further into your mouth.

His hand is instantly in your hair. Not pressing, but his fingers tangle in the strands and tug deliciously against your scalp. He moans as you take him as far back into your throat as you can manage.

“Fuck, your mouth is better than I ever dreamed,” he says, voice rough.

“You’ve thought about this?” You ask when you draw back for breath, hand pumping his length in place of your mouth.

“‘Course, baby. These pretty lips wrapped around me, beggin’ for me to make them all swollen and used,” he says, standing and bringing a thumb to your lips and swiping it across their spit slick surface. “Open up.”

He uses his thumb to press against your bottom lip, opening your mouth as he takes his cock in hand and feeds it slowly between your lips. The smooth, hot length of him dragging across your tongue makes you moan.

“You like that, baby?” He growls, pumping his hips in shallow thrusts. “Like me usin’ your mouth how I want?”

You try to nod, your movement restricted by the grip of his hand that’s returned to your hair. There’s spit trailing down your chin and tears gathering in the corners of your eyes from the effort of keeping your mouth open for his thick length. You know you must look like a mess but with Joel staring down at you with his lust drunk expression, you feel on top of the world.

“I gotta fuck you, baby, will you let me, huh? Let me feel that pretty little cunt strangle my cock?”

You hum around his length and he withdraws, tugging you up by your hair and pulling you into the dirtiest kiss, all tongue and teeth and blatant desire as he turns your bodies, shoving you down onto the bed.

Joel slips an arm beneath your low back, using it to pull you up the bed as he crawls on to join you. He positions himself between your legs, tearing the soaked fabric of your panties down in a frenzy.

He slides his fingers through your wetness before bringing them to his lips, sucking them into his mouth with a groan.

“Christ, I’m gonna feast on you for hours, baby, but I wanna fuck you so bad,” he says.

“Then fuck me, Joel, please,” you beg, lifting your hips so that his cock slips through your center. “Come on, wanna feel you.”

He lines himself up, pressing into you with a delicious stretch, the slight sting of it making you whine. He shushes you, not stopping until his hips press against the back of your thighs.

“Good fuckin’ girl, takin’ my cock like you were made for it,” he says, leaning forward to kiss you, the shift in angle making him go impossibly deeper. “Tell me when I can move, sweetheart.”

You shift your hips restlessly beneath him. “Please move, Joel, wanna feel it.”

Joel pulls back before slamming forward, the force of it making you slide up the bed as all the air leaves your lungs in a whoosh. His grin is sharp as he does it again and again to the tune of your desperate cries.

“Joel!” You cry, clawing at his back with each thrust. “Fuck, yes, yes!”

He withdraws abruptly, the loss of him as you clench around nothing making you whine pathetically. With a bruising grip on your hips, he twists your body until you’re on your belly, ass in the air and chest pressed to the mattress.

Joel slides back inside your tight heat, a palm slapping across one cheek then the other as he resumes his powerful thrusts.

“Fuck, darlin’, you’re so goddamn tight,” he growls. A hand presses to the back of your neck for leverage, changing the angle yet again. “Can you cum for me? Can you soak my fuckin’ cock, baby, I bet you can.”

You nod, the movement restricted, but you can’t form words. All you know is the feeling of Joel pounding into your body like he owns it.

The hand on your hips moves to the front of your body, fingers finding and pinching your clit. You sob against the mattress, the sheets wet beneath you from tears and drool.

“Come on, baby, fuckin’ cum for me,” he growls. “Won’t fill ya up until you do.”

That’s the visual that does it. The thought of Joel finishing with you, inside of you, dripping out of you too much for your lust addled brain. With a shout, the thin remnant of your control snaps and you pulse around him.

“Fuck yes, that’s it, sweetheart, good fuckin’ girl,” he praises, his hand leaving your neck as he sits up, his tempo fast and sloppy as he chases his release through yours. “You want me to cum in this tight little cunt, honey.”

“Yes, please,” you manage to slur, muffled by the sheets. With three more harsh thrusts, he does as promised, spilling inside of you with a shout.

He slows before withdrawing, your body collapsing against the mattress without him there to hold you up. He chuckles as he flops beside you, dragging you into the cradle of his body.

“You done playin’ games with those boys?” He asks, smiling smugly against your neck.

“Yeah, think I might be into older guys,” you tease. He pinches your hip, making you laugh.

“See if I ever help you during trivia again.”

________

Joel’s standing in front of you, arms crossed with a scowl on his face as you stare up at him with pleading eyes.

“Come on, baby, help me out,” you ask sweetly, batting your eyelashes.

“Last call for an answer to our final question! What is the only song credited to all five original members of the band Fleetwood Mac?”

Joel sighs, biting back his smile. “The Chain,” he tells you. You scribble the answer, running your paper up to the emcee. When you return to the bar, you lean across the polished surface and tug him towards you, planting a kiss to his lips.

He drags you back for another kiss. And another.

“Anytime, darlin’.”

Joel Miller tag list: @huffle-punk punk @johnwatsn @hopelessromantic727 @whereasport @pedr0swh0r3 @yellingloudly @dragon-of-winterfell @thedeadsingwithdirtintheirmouths @mydailyhyperfixations @liati2000 @ghostofjoharvelle @cutesyscreenname @morgaussy @letsgroovetonighttt @endlessthxxghts @fake-bleach @brilliantopposite187 @mattmurdock1021 @str84pedro @justsomeoneovertherainbow

Join the tag list here!

[pahtoosh]

baba face

[image ID: photos of sebastian stan, chris evans, and various stuffed animals photoshopped onto a yellow background. sebastian stan is holding a round wolf stuffed animal and looking into the distance. chris evans is hiding a smile with a hand over his mouth. the stuffed animals include four frowning stuffed animals and one smiling one. /.end ID]

masterlist

18+

wc: ~2400 words

warnings: reader takes a little tumble

a/n: this was inspired by @angelbaby-fics ! Chloe, thank you for showing me your turtle and inspiring this whole piece! (side note: if anyone would like to talk about their stuffies, I would LOVE to hear about them!!

pairing: stucky x gn!little!reader

summary: sam gets a stuffed animal for reader that frowns like bucky! things get out of hand when the other avengers join in and buy reader way too many grumpy stuffies

⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆ ⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆ ⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ

It all started when Sam came back from a mission in late June. The Avengers would sometimes bring back presents when they went overseas. They didn’t always have the time to stop by a gift shop but when they did, the gifts were always cherished and held a little closer when the Avenger eventually had to travel again. 

Two weeks before his mission, you had gotten very close with Sam. Your daddies asked him to watch over you one day and he gave you a whole adventure. He took you to a pottery painting studio, then the park, and ended the day with the best ice cream you’ve ever had. From then on, you were inseparable. 

During group meal times, you’d make jokes with him across the table. If you were allowed in the room for a meeting, you’d pass notes back and forth. Sam would also play with you during Tony’s summer parties; he was going to let you fly with redwing before Bucky marched outside and confined you to his hip for the rest of the night. You didn’t mind too much though, the sky probably wasn’t as comfortable as being held by Baba. 

Your attachment to Sam made this mission all the more difficult for everyone involved. You, because you missed your friend. Sam, because he missed your happy giggles and felt bad for leaving you right when he finally gained your trust. And your daddies because they had to witness you get sad every time something reminded you of Sam. 

Fortunately, the mission was going well and he was expected to return right on time. On his last day, Sam was looking both ways to cross the street when a stuffed animal in a display window caught his eye. He looked at his watch to see if he had enough time to make his flight, then quickly entered the store and bought the plushie because he knew you’d love it. 

On the plane, Sam sat with the plushie in his lap to keep it safe. It was still in the bag from the store, looking like an oddly shaped lump in a now wrinkly paper bag. When Sam returned to the tower, Steve was the first to greet him before you nudged your Dada out of the way to give Sam a bone-crushing hug. 

“I missed you, Sammy!”

“I missed you too, peanut.” He kneeled down and handed you the paper bag. “I gotcha something.”

You beamed at him. “Thank you! I love it!”

Sam laughed. “You haven’t even opened it yet!”

“I already know I’m gonna like it because it’s from you,” you said, matter of factly. “But okay.”

You opened the bag and gasped when you saw the plush. 

It was a soft turtle with a slightly slouched posture, but that wasn’t the part you were focused on. Your favorite part was the plushie’s grumpy expression. It looked just like Bucky. 

“HE HAS BABA FACE! THANK YOU THANK YOU THANK YOU!” You screamed your gratitude while running circles around the trio of Sam and your daddies. Sam and Steve were barely holding in their laughter, meanwhile Bucky stood confused, but happy that you were happy. Despite his super hearing, he wasn’t sure if he heard you correctly. Did you say baba face? Or maybe you said bubble face?  

Bucky figured that this wasn’t something he needed the answers to immediately, so he didn’t ask any questions and resolved to watching you tire yourself out. 

The grumpy turtle became your new shadow. Everywhere you went, so did the plush. You’d have it tucked under your arm while running through the compound. During mealtimes in your home, the turtle would get his own chair and toy food. Outside, you kept your turtle in a drawstring backpack with the head poking out so he could see the world too. When your daddies carried you around, you’d make a silly game out of making the turtle mess up your Dada’s hair or bite your Baba’s ears. 

Even before giving you the turtle, Sam loved to boast about how he was your favorite Avenger(you didn’t have a favorite, but you didn’t have the heart to correct him on that when he kept giving you all of his attention). When you all played hide and seek, he bragged for three days straight about how you chose him to be your partner. Your attachment to the turtle only heightened his pride. 

He always asked you where the turtle was, knowing it couldn’t be more than three feet away from you. Sam made a big fuss about the turtle having his own seat at the dinner table and fell victim to your strength and contagious giggles when you pushed him out of his seat to make room for your turtle. Sam learned his lesson that day and didn’t fight for the turtle to have his own chair in the debriefing room. However, he did bring in an extra stool for the plush. Sam even bought you the very drawstring backpack that allowed you to take your new friend on your outdoor adventures. In private, he’d ask you about how the turtle was settling into his new home and gave him the gentlest kiss when you said the turtle needed more lovin’. 

The others all thought your friendship with Sam was adorable, but there was one person who saw this as an opportunity for some friendly competition. Natasha knew that there was room in your heart for more than one avenger bestie, so she devised a plan to take her spot. She had two missions in August–the first: survey a crime group that’s suspected to have ties with Zemo. The second: give you a gift worthy of four days of bragging. 

After successful recon, Natasha’s plane landed in the Avenger’s HQ. She turned in her paperwork that she completed on the flight home, then went to freshen up so she could give you your gift. Natasha found you cuddled up with Steve in the movie room watching some old cartoon. She knocked on the door.

“Got any room for a couple more friends on that couch?”

“Natty, you’re back!” You untangled yourself from Steve and ran to give her a hug. You looked behind her expecting to see more of the group. “Where’s the other friends?”

She held up a bag with the arm that wasn’t hugging you. “Your new friend traveled a long way to get here.”

You squealed and hugged Natasha again before accepting the bag from her hand and kneeling on the floor to pull out the tissue paper and free your gift. 

“You guys are spoiling them, you know that?” Steve asked, lightheartedly from the couch.

“Oh hush, how many hours of screen time have you given them today?”

Steve opened and closed his mouth a couple times, not expecting the question.

“Doesn’t count if the movies came from your time, right?” 

Any response from Steve was cut off by your cheering. 

“BABA OCTOPUS!! BABATOPUS!!” you held up the plush proudly like it was Simba. “Dada, look!”

“Oh he’s beautiful, baby.” Steve chuckled at the round, bright red octopus plush with a deep frown on its face. “What do you say to Nat?”

“THANK YOU NAAAT!” you yelled. Excitement flickered across your face once more, then you ran out of the movie room with the octopus securely tucked under your arm.

“Where are you going, baby? And no running indoors!” Steve shouted as he chased after you. 

You slowed for a bit, but kept moving at a swift pace. “I hav’ta show Baba my new friend!”

Natasha watched your little race from the movie room with an amused grin on her face. During dinner that night, she enjoyed the shocked look on Sam’s face when you pulled up with two grumpy plushies and pretended to feed the octopus before the turtle.

Sam turned to Natasha. “You have no idea what you’ve just started.”

She smirked. “And you have no idea what you’re getting into.”

Steve leaned over to whisper to Bucky. “We’re gonna need more space in the playroom.”

𓏲 ࣪₊♡

The competition expanded beyond Natasha and Sam. All of the Avengers were determined to find the next grumpy plush to win your heart. There was a penguin from Peter, a frog from Thor, a cat from Tony, and a panda from Wanda. Your collection was starting to get out of control. You desperately wanted to carry all of your plushies everywhere with you to keep things fair, but your daddies put an end to that when you tripped on the sidewalk while trying to push a stroller full of scowling stuffed animals. 

Bucky decided to help you create a system so you could fairly pick one plushie from the collection to carry around for the day. He made small slips of paper so you could write down their names and pull one out of a cup each morning. He brought his supplies to you while you were having an afternoon snack at the dining table. His heart broke seeing you with your knees bandaged up and the streaks of dried tears from the fall earlier today still on your face.

“Hi, Baba,” you sniffled.

“Hey, sweetie. What’s going on? You eatin’ your snack?”

“Mhm.”

“Why aren’t you eating at the kitchen island, baby? You always eat your snack there.”

You pouted and gestured to the plushies sitting around you. “I can’t fit all my friends there.”

“Oh I know, bubs. It must be so hard carrying all these guys around, huh?” He mentally scolded himself for leaving you alone during your snack. He should’ve known better than to expect you to stay put when your little friends were trapped inside the stroller. It must’ve taken so long to arrange the plushies around the table with your injury. 

You perked up at his next words. 

“Baba has something for you.” Bucky spread out the slips of paper on the table and placed a cup next to them. “You can write down the names of all your little friends on these papers and pick one name out of the cup to decide which one you’re walking around with for the day. Does that sound fair?”

You shrugged, “I guess I can do that.” You really would’ve liked a solution that allowed you to bring all of the grumpy plushies with you everywhere, but deep down you knew that it just wasn’t practical. You took the pencil that Bucky held out for you and started writing down your plushies’ names.

Your Baba lovingly kissed the top of your head and rubbed your back while you wrote. He loved watching you focus on a task. He almost didn’t notice what you were writing down.

Bucky squinted then blinked a couple of times, not believing what he saw. “Baby, why are you writing ‘Baba’ on everything?”

You paused and tilted your head back to look at him. “That’s their names. Baba Turtle and Baba Cat and Baba Bear and Baba-”

“Why do you call them that?”

“‘Cause look!” You picked up the grumpy frog sitting next to you and held it out for Bucky to see. “They look like Baba!” You hugged the plushie before setting it back down to continue writing. 

Bucky’s heart melted. His sweet, wonderful baby was so attached to these plushies that reminded them of him. His signature scowl that often got him into trouble brought them comfort. His friends even noticed and spoiled his baby rotten with even more of these toys. 

Bucky continued watching you work. He looked at the plushies differently now. 

𓏲 ࣪₊♡

Steve and Bucky were cleaning your playroom. Normally this would be your responsibility, but you had gone to bed a little earlier, and they didn’t want you walking too much with your injury. Steve was putting your plushies into their designated bins. He wasn’t harsh with them, but his efficient method of gathering an armful and plopping them down certainly would have raised an eyebrow from you. 

“Hey, go easy with turtle me,” Bucky teased. 

“Turtle you?” Steve asked. 

Bucky nodded proudly, then held the plush up to his face. “Don’t you see the resemblance?” 

“Whatever, punk. At least my face isn’t the reason we have a 50 gallon bin of stuffed animals.” Steve turned around and kept cleaning, completely missing the look of excitement on Bucky’s face. 

The next day, your Baba volunteered to pick up breakfast while Steve helped you get ready. Bucky stopped by a toy store on his way to the bakery. He’d seen this particular plushie before and knew that this was the perfect moment to get it for you. Not too long later, he was entering your home with bagels in one hand and your new friend in the other. 

Bucky hid the plush behind his back when he heard you and Steve walking towards him. 

“Hi, Baba!”

“Good morning, baby.” Bucky leaned down to kiss your forehead, then kissed Steve’s cheek as a thanks when he handed off the box of bagels. 

You hugged Bucky and couldn’t help but notice that one of his hands wasn’t hugging you back. 

“Baba, hug me better,” you whined. 

Bucky laughed. “Hang on, I’ve got somethin’ for ya.”

You gasped in excitement and took a step back so you could see. Bucky revealed the plush with a dramatic flourish, then somewhat nervously waited for your reaction. The stuffed animal had you in shock. It was a stuffed giraffe that stood with the most perfect posture. It had spiky hair, blue eyes, and a charming smile. You knew exactly who it was supposed to resemble. 

“IT'S DADA!” You squealed and graciously took the plush while running to the kitchen where Steve was. He was already making his way to you when he heard your scream. 

“Dada’s right here, bubba. What’s going on?”

You held up the plush while doing a little dance. “Look! It’s a Dada giraffe!”

Steve laughed then ran a hand over his face when he made the connection. You ran off to your playroom, saying something about “finding a Baba for this Dada” while your daddies shared a look. 

Bucky brought in Steve for a hug, patting his dumbfounded lover on the back. He playfully whispered in his ear, “We’re gonna need more space in the playroom.”

[violetrainbow412-blog]

Emergency room [S. R] +18

Spencer Reid x fem!reader

word count: 12k

Summary: Spencer forgot to mention that you're still his emergency contact. You wouldn't have had a problem with it if you weren't his ex of over a year and the hospital took you out of the bed because he had a car crash

contents: exes to lovers, car accident, hospitals, mention of injuries (nothing graphic), mutual longing, SMUT, porn with plot, a little sub!spencer if you squint, penetrative sex (p in v), vanilla sex

Maybe there is a mistake with the grammar and pronouns, I swear I checked it the best I could but surely something escaped me! Enjoy :)

The ringing of your cell phone snapped you out of your hard-won reverie a few hours ago, and you sighed audibly into your pillow before opening your eyes. The device was somewhere on the nightstand, so it was enough to reach out and feel the wood a little to take it.

Virginia Hospital Center. 

You hoped the caller ID was wrong, which was highly unlikely, and you swiped to take the call, wondering what it could be.

“Virginia Hospital Center, may I speak to Ms. Y/N Y/L/N?” With a shaky voice you answered in the affirmative and then the woman continued: "I am calling because you are the emergency contact on file for Mr. Spencer Walter Reid, who has just been admitted to the emergency room”

Hearing this, you jumped out of bed like a spring and felt how a chill ran through your entire body, a sign of the obvious panic that had just invaded you.

"What happened? He's fine?"

“He suffered a car accident and now he is being transferred to the operating room. It is imperative that you show up at the hospital so that you can account for any complications and can help us complete the information in his medical history."

The woman behind the phone was barely finishing saying that when you were already looking for your car keys and a decent change of clothes. You only took what you had in your bag before getting in your car and starting the engine to start the march, even with the adrenaline that you had coursing through your system. The hospital was a bit far away, so every time you accelerated too much you had to remind yourself that you could have an accident too, and then that would be the last straw. With that constant change of speed, you managed to get there in almost an hour, a little less than the time it would normally take, but still too long for your liking.

Somewhat agitated you rushed to the reception desk, where there was a nurse whose voice you recognized from the previous call. She had to reassure you a bit when you desperately asked her, almost with tears in your eyes, to tell you where Spencer was and what condition he was in. 

“What relationship do you have with the patient?”

“I am his…” Your breath caught for a moment, thinking about whether it would be correct to tell the woman the truth or not; In the end, you decided to lie to her "girlfriend"

You and Spencer hadn't seen each other, at least not physically, for a little over a year. You often saw him on the news, in one or another now-forgotten photo that fell by accident from between the pages of your books, or in the articles on the internet about the conferences he gave; but you had never dared to contact him to go out, just as he hadn’t called again. You thought that eventually, you guys would meet again even if it was by chance, but you never imagined that it would be under these conditions. 

“Can you help me answer a few questions?” she murmured and to each question she asked you answered almost mechanically. You were quite surprised that, even with the time that had already passed, you still remembered everything perfectly, as if it were your own medical information that you were providing.

The woman informed you, as kindly as she could be, that Spencer had already been in surgery for an hour and that when the doctor came out he could explain what had happened in more detail. You thought about the hit he had suffered to end up there and the anxiety of knowing if he was okay was eating away at your place in the waiting room, where you alternated between biting your nails and moving your leg up and down to calm down.

You wondered, meanwhile, why he still had you listed as an emergency contact. You knew he wasn't a person with many friends, but it sounded more practical for that position to be filled by someone he lived with more often, like Prentiss or Hotchner, not you. It wasn't the first time you'd been in a hospital with Spencer as a patient and you tried to remind yourself that those other times everything had gone well, but on those other occasions he'd always gotten immediate care because he'd been working or it was simple things like a cold that had become too bothersome. You wondered how far he had crashed, how long it had taken the ambulance to get there, how much pain he had experienced. You were really worried, until after half an hour that seemed like an eternity you heard the nurse call you and a doctor appeared next to her.

The first thing you asked, with a trembling voice, was if he was okay, and when you felt the doctor's soft nod you felt your soul return to your body. Then he explained everything that had happened in greater detail: Spencer had been hit from the side by a drunk driver who had entered at the same time as him and who, unfortunately, hadn’t survived. The surgery had been delayed because Spencer had a stab wound to his leg, dangerously close to the femoral artery and at risk of bleeding, as well as multiple pieces of glass buried deep in his torso, which punctured muscle and could damage vessels, nerves, and tendons. He had made the emergency call before falling unconscious and the doctor in front of you emphasized that if it hadn't been for the speed of the report things could have ended worse.

"Right now he is in intensive care, you can come in to see him until he wakes up"

"And how long will that take?"

“It varies from patient to patient. I can't give you an exact answer, but it won't be for another hour or two”

You warmly thanked the doctor for the job done and somewhat disappointed, but definitely calmer, you returned to your seat in the waiting room. You asked if you could stay there the rest of the night even if it wasn't on his side and the woman agreed. A little less upset, you searched in the hospital for a place to prepare coffee and after obtaining a well-charged one you waited again.

At some point you curled up in the chair and after an hour, and the fact that the coffee had no effect on you at all, you had already fallen asleep. Luckily your sleep was light, so you could clearly hear when a new nurse murmured your name and said that she would guide you to where Spencer was, who had woken up a few minutes before. During the walk down the corridor, she warned you that in intensive care only visits of less than an hour were allowed and when you entered the room full of stretchers protected only by curtains, she took you to one almost at the end, indicating that your patient was there.

You didn't go in immediately, because you needed to get some air first to gather the courage to do it, and when you finally did, a sea of feelings flooded you. Spencer looked fatigued and a little pale. His eyelids were closed and if it hadn't been for the heart monitor next door emitting soft, continuous beeps, you would have thought he was already in a better place. 

Carefully you approached a chair right next to the stretcher and once seated there you remained silent for a moment, until you felt the need to hold his hand as a way of comforting yourself, as if you were closer this way. Said action didn’t go unnoticed by the man, who, when he slightly opened his eyes, believed that his mind was vilely deceiving him, and a second later your name left his lips as a scratchy and confused whisper.

"Hello" was all you managed to say, holding back the tears that had already pooled on your lashes. "How are you feeling?"

“I feel like everything around me is spinning”

With a little more confidence, and so that he wouldn't strain his eyes, you approached the edge of the bed, still not letting go of his hand.

"The doctor said you really had a bad accident"

"The other man? He is…?"

"Dead" you completed in a whisper, completely admiring your friend's pure spirit that allowed her to worry about who caused him to be there "He was drunk when he hit you and they couldn't do much"

"Oh," was all Spencer said, with a genuine tone of pity. You didn't know what to say, or even what to do, you were just looking at him as closely as possible to reassure yourself that he was okay and with his whole body. Your hand hadn't let go and he seemed comfortable with it.

"Do you want me to call someone?"

"A doctor?"

"To a friend"

"They..." Reid still looked disoriented, as if he couldn't even remember the conditions in which he had the accident, and when he finally got his thoughts together, he looked back at you, "Why are you here?"

“I am your emergency contact”

It took him a moment, again, to process the words. When he was aware of the situation, he closed his eyes tightly as if he had done something terrible, and looked at you with shame.

"I'm so sorry"

"Don't you want me here?"

"What? No! Of course I want you here. It's just that I didn't want to bother you with this, I… I thought I'd change that information when I found a better candidate and I never did, so months went by and I… forgot. Well, I didn't forget, but I didn't want to change it because I didn't think it would be necessary and right now I think I should have discussed it with you and I never did, so I'm sorry. Are you upset?”

“Spencer, relax,” you exhaled gently, rubbing your fingers over the back of his hand “There's no problem staying here, I just want to know if you need me to call someone. They didn't let me stay here for long."

“Call Hotch. I want to let him know that I'm taking a vacation."

It was difficult for him to keep his eyes open continuously, probably from the remaining effects of the anesthesia, so you just nodded and did as he asked. Spencer listened to the entire conversation in which you explained what had happened and even answered some of his boss's questions himself, assuring him that he was as well as he could be after an accident of this magnitude. Aaron also promised that the team would visit him as soon as possible, and he asked you to keep in touch, with an odd familiarity that made you smile.

After finishing the call, you returned to your chair and leaned over to brush his hair off his forehead, taking the opportunity to caress his face carefully. Spencer, still with his eyes closed, smiled at the touch.

“You cut it” you observed “Are you still doing it yourself?”

"Yes, still"

You smiled at him and he smiled back, but neither of you said anything else. There would be time to answer questions later.

Although he seemed to be asleep, he was aware that you were by his side for another long time, and when you said goodbye you promised that you would return there as soon as you could.

The next morning, after taking a shower and calling work that you had an emergency, you kept your promise. Spencer seemed a bit more recovered on this second visit; his color had returned to his cheeks, he was almost sitting on the bed and could basically keep his eyes open for more than ten seconds at a time. The doctor had told you that he would stay there for observation for the rest of the day and once he moved to a general room you could be with him for as long as you wanted. For now, you would have to make do with that sixty-minute visit.

"Do you feel better?"

"Not really. But I'm not complaining, it could be worse” he replied, settling better on the bed and wincing.

“I told the doctors no… I asked them not to give you Dilaudid” you confessed, with a bit of fear of his reaction “No type of morphine, in fact. They told me that they could substitute another analgesic, but that you would feel a little more pain than you normally would. Still, I insisted. I hope you don't mind"

“The doctor told me. And I appreciate it,” he murmured sincerely. He couldn't describe the ease he felt when he found out about it, for he had been drug-free for too long to mess it up by carelessness. Luckily, he had you.

"How have you been, by the way?" you shyly exclaimed, taking a step closer to him "I don't mean right now, but... during this time"

"Relatively well" he replied, inviting you with his eyes to sit in the same chair you had been a few hours ago. In doing so you hoped that he would develop a more complete answer than just two words and then he began to relate to you some events significant enough to deserve a mention.

One of the things you'd always loved about Spencer was hearing him talk, whether it was for a minute or an hour. With other people he talked fast, afraid someone would ask him to shut up, but with you he always took his time. In his words there was no sign of spite towards you, even when you thought you deserved it, always showing the beautiful heart that he harbored in that chest.

“I have also been giving conferences more often and that makes me happy. Many of the people there don't understand what I'm talking about, but those who do always come up and ask me questions. Sometimes Emily or Rossi accompany me and other times I go alone. Oh, and I'm taking a PhD."

"Another?" you said surprised, although you didn’t doubt his ability.

"I've been kind of bored, if I'm honest" was his poor explanation from him. You wanted to remind him that no one went into PhDs just because they were bored, but he was a genius you were talking to.

You didn't dare to confess to him that you had been watching some of his labor movements, but just knowing again a little about the things that were happening to him made you feel good.

“Have you been alright?” he continued, looking genuinely interested in hearing your answer.

“I have been able to defend myself, yes. Do you remember when I told you about asking for a promotion? Well, it finally happened a few months ago and the extra money has been doing me good. I have a little more work freedom, too, and I'm considering moving”

“Where do you plan to move to?”

You explained some of the options you had in mind and after hearing each one he helped you learn about some of the pros and cons in terms of costs, services, and security in the area. You would have continued your talk if it hadn't been for a nurse coming in. She was the same one that had received you the night before and you smiled kindly when you recognized her.

"Good morning, how are you feeling, Mr. Reid?" she asked, as she maneuvered to change the IV pole bag.

“Better than yesterday, definitely”

"You don't have to worry, you will recover soon"

"I hope so" he smiled.

“You gave your girlfriend quite a scare, that's for sure,” she teased, nodding her head in your direction.

You tensed at that, and if you had been an ostrich, you would have buried your head in the ground. Spencer watched you from the stretcher with a little smile and answered something you didn't understand to the nurse. They exchanged another couple of sentences until she was gone, saying goodbye cordially to both of you.

"Did she misread the situation or is there something here I'm missing?" he asked you once you were alone, looking genuinely amused.

“Okay, I admit it, maybe I lied a bit last night. I thought they would have more compassion and trust in a girlfriend than an ex-girlfriend" 

"And your real boyfriend isn't going to be upset if you're here taking care of me?"

Ever since you met him you could say that if Spencer lacked a quality, it was subtlety and now he himself was showing it. You knew that there was enough trust for him to tease you like that, but you also knew that asking about your love life was some kind of revenge for having lied to the staff and so you decided to humor him.

"No, he isn’t very jealous to say. On the contrary, he is open-minded and right now we are trying to have an open relationship. You know, I see some people, he sees others, but we still have our thing."

Spencer's previously mocking expression immediately changed upon hearing you say that, having no idea how he would be wise to react. But you couldn't stand it for a long time and you burst out laughing, clarifying between laughs that you were only joking.

“Well, even so, it is likely that at some point in your life you could be in such a relationship, there are even those who think that it is healthy and mature when both people agree”

“It's not quite my style. I prefer safe monogamy or if the guy is very stupid, the sex without commitment for a single night” you laughed slightly.

The deadline for the visit had already expired and with all the sadness you had to say goodbye to him, promising that you would return as soon as he came out of intensive care.

“You've done a lot for me, but it's okay if at some point you're too busy to come, okay? I will understand"

"Don't talk nonsense" you exclaimed firmly, while you leaned down enough to give him a hug without hurting him. Suddenly a new concern invaded you and you felt that you had to ask him a question that you had omitted: "Unless you have a psycho girlfriend who is after my head, do you?"

"Do you think if that was the case, I wouldn't have mentioned it already?" he muttered obviously and now it was your turn to smile.

You didn't want a nurse to come in to get you out of there by force so you took your things and looked at your ex-boyfriend one last time to wave goodbye.

You always thought that when a relationship ended it was because either party had made a serious mistake: “I slept with your best friend”, “my family secretly hates you”, or “it turns out I'm still too in love with my ex to love you”. But when you decided to break up with Spencer, you found that that formula didn't apply to everyone.

Perhaps it was an unfortunate combination of situations, feelings, and problems that led to things simply stopping working overnight. You didn't know how to explain it, none of you, but you guys couldn't even kiss the same way you used to. Your work exhausted you, his work exhausted him, and in the end it was you who decided for both of us that things would be better if everyone took their own path. This isn’t to say that the breakup was less painful, it was just that the hope of being able to have a friendship after it made the grief more bearable. But none of you was able to forget what had happened to pretend to be friends and so, little by little, you stopped seeing each other. Over a year passed with neither of you discussing the silent breakup and, though you and he couldn't have known it, even your respective group of friends suffered a little from the pain of parting from a couple they'd swear would walk down the aisle.

That was why a part of you was guiltily glad that you could see him again and that things weren't at all awkward, like you always imagined they would be. It was your same Spencer, just a little teasing and with less hair, but other than that he had barely changed. He still had those kind eyes that once saw you as if you were the most beautiful person on earth.

You took advantage of the way home in your car to think about everything that was happening to you and for a moment you wondered if with Spencer's recovery all relationship with you would end up withering like a flower with the arrival of autumn or would be reborn as they do in spring. 

"I don't even know why we're playing, we both know you're always going to win" you complained, throwing your pathetic poker hand onto the bed sheet, as he laughed.

The hospital called you when Spencer was admitted to the general ward and you had stayed with him ever since. There was a television in the room, but you knew that he was not a big fan of technological entertainment, so before coming back you decided to take as many things as you needed so that you could kill time; a few books, a deck of cards, a book full of word scrambles and crossword puzzles you'd picked up at a newsstand on the way, and even a blank notebook that could do multiple jobs.

He would stay there for about a week (the doctor explained that it all depended on how fast he healed) and that morning you had gone to talk to your boss at the office to ask her for a couple of days so you could stay with him. You still had a week of vacation available and although he felt extremely guilty you insisted on staying there, after all no one from the BAU could leave their post for that long. In addition, urgent or essential things could be done from home and it was enough to connect for a couple of hours from your laptop to solve them.

Spencer hadn't told you, but he felt comfortable having company during his stay there. Hospitals weren’t his favorite places and having such a familiar presence comforted him.

"I'll let you win once if it makes you feel better"

"If you wanted me to feel better you should have done it without telling me, now I know you were just being silly" you huffed, shuffling the cards with both hands.

"It's all about math, it's really not that complicated"

“Why have you never thought about betting big in casinos? You're from Vegas, you must know a lot. And you could become a millionaire with it."

“It is illegal, in fact, and I am banned from casinos in Las Vegas, Laughlin, and Pahrump because of my card-counting ability. So sorry to disappoint you, but those plans wouldn't work."

“A wasted talent. What a pity” you sighed, starting to hand out a new game.

While you were doing that, a nurse came into the room carrying a tray with food and your friend's eyes sparkled, because being fed intravenously for a day and a half hadn’t been very to his liking. When he put it down in front of you, you noticed that everything looked appetizing considering it was hospital food, and after thanking the man he took the dessert and spread it in your direction.

“You don't like Jell-o anymore?

"Yeah, but I know it's your favorite," he added, shrugging and starting to eat the main course voraciously.

"I'm not going to take advantage of a sick person"

“You aren’t taking advantage. I'm giving it to you" with a smile you put the dessert on the nightstand, ready to return it to him if he wanted it later, and as seeing him eat your own hunger woke you up, you told him you'd go out for a moment to look for something.

You were surprised that across the corridor, at the reception, there was a group of people that you recognized immediately. Morgan was the first to notice you and had to turn twice to make sure his brain wasn't playing tricks on him. Then he motioned to Garcia, who was holding a bouquet of flowers and a balloon, and she waved her hand in your direction with a huge smile.

“Are you really who I think you are?” he asked, once they approached you.

"It seems so" you laughed, under the watchful and surprised gaze of almost everyone present.

The team greeted you with hugs, seeming genuinely happy to see you around and asking about the status of your mutual friend. You related all the medical details of the accident, the care they had taken and in the same way you told them that you had been there throughout the entire process.

"And how is he now?"

“He is fine, just a little sore. But the worst is over, the doctor says he will recover soon”

"It's a relief that everything was quick, I don't even want to think about what would have happened if the doctors didn't arrive on time"

"Do you think we can stop by to see him?"

"He'll be delighted, I assure you" you answered happily "He's in room 501, I'll come back to you as soon as I find something to eat"

Everyone thanked you and set out to find the room, except for Aaron who stayed in the hallway so he could talk to you.

"How has everything been?"

"Okay, as far as that goes," you smiled, arms crossed over your chest, "How's Jack?"

"Growing up" was all he said and you didn't need more to know what he meant "I just wanted to tell you that the plan is to stay here for a few hours, in case you want to come home and rest"

Although you didn't often see him, Hotch had always been particularly nice to you when you were the boy's girlfriend, and he had also tried to cheer the man up when he found out about the breakup: he was especially fond of both you and him.

“Oh, thank you very much for that, Aaron. I was going to go get something to eat, but I don't have much of an appetite for fast or canned food, so I could probably eat at home and come back."

"Do what you have to do. We'll be here,” he assured you.

"You're not going to ask Spencer to go back to work, are you?"

"I won't ask him, I'll be lucky if I convince him not to do it" you giggled to see that Spencer was still the same stubborn person as always, and you thought about whether it would be correct to ask your ex-boyfriend's boss a personal question. You had always seen someone strong in him, of course, but he also had a gentle and understanding part.

"He told me that he's been fine, but… has he really been?"

You wanted to hear from someone else how he had been, because you knew that it was likely that the chestnut omitted the bad parts of the story just to not worry you.

"I don't know what can be considered ‘fine' in Reid's life. He has kept up his spirits and as far as I know his mother is doing well. He doesn't drink, he doesn't smoke, and even though I've insisted on it, he refuses to see a therapist, but I guess he finds another way to deal with the problems. There have been bad days, but he always gets over it” you felt calm when you heard that and you nodded with a smile.

“He is always like that. It makes me happy that he has you"

"Sometimes he's not that happy" he sighed, probably with some important background for those words "But in the end it's like in all families, right?"

"I think so" you smiled bitterly. He was watching you carefully, trying to read your micro-expressions as much as possible. After all he was a profiler, that was his job. "Then I'll go home quickly and come back as soon as possible, okay?"

“Good luck, drive carefully”

"It was nice to see you again, Hotch."

Spencer hardly even noticed your absence with the bustle of his friends in the room and when you came back you were even wearing other clothes. During their visit you were just a listener to the funny stories everyone seemed to have and from time to time you answered a few polite questions from others.

You talked to them about your plans to stay there daily and you agreed that they would take turns helping you for a couple of hours each, when possible, so you would get some rest as well. Also, most volunteered to replace the amount of blood he had needed in surgery. All the attention had the man a bit dizzy, but still he felt lucky for the people around him.

The days went by and sometimes you smuggled in a snack that wouldn't harm your friend's health so he could eat during the afternoon. You had convinced him to see one or another movie, you had brought some yarn and needles for you to resume knitting lessons that had been forgotten for many years, and in general you could say that you had a good time with him. Chats with Spencer always felt natural so topics of conversation weren't a problem either, as he would be able to recite facts to you from memory as long as you guys didn't get bored.

The doctors came in frequently to check that everything was in order and every time you heard positive responses about the recovery process you felt calm.

You'd come home at night because Spencer insisted on it, but the next morning you'd leave your apartment as early as possible and spend the rest of the day there.

Although you didn't want to admit it, you were more and more convinced that those days by his side became the spark of happiness that your life needed. All the time was only yours and served to recover some of the lost things.

“Do you want me to read aloud to you?” he offered an afternoon and you put aside your occupations to accept the offer. You had gotten him a copy of The Narrative of John Smith by Arthur Conan Doyle because you knew he loved that book and that was the one selected for the activity.

Contrary to what many people thought, he was a great speaker and the sound of his voice brought to the surface memories that you thought were lost.

"What are you reading?" you had asked that night, after brushing your teeth and putting on your pajamas. Spencer spent at least 10 minutes reading before going to sleep, enough for him to devour an entire book, or at least a large part of it.

You assumed that his current reading would be something related to a case, but you were surprised to hear the answer.

"Alice in Wonderland"

"Why are you reading Alice in Wonderland?" you asked helpfully, as you slid under the covers into the space next to him and peered over the side.

“My mom used to read it to me when I was a kid and I wanted to reread it. It's a nice story"

"I have never read it. I just watched the movie"

"You are committing a sin. The cinema will never do justice to the original stories.”

"And why don't you read to me a bit?" you asked nicely, followed by a short kiss on the lips "I like listening to you and maybe you will help me fall asleep"

You carefully slipped in until you were comfortably recharged on his chest and when you were ready he complied with your request, beginning with the story he knew by heart.

Alice was beginning to get very tired of sitting by her sister on the bank, and of having nothing to do: once or twice she had peeped into the book her sister was reading, but it had no pictures or conversations in it…

It became a habit and sometimes you guys wouldn't even finish the books because you always picked another one that seemed interesting, even if it was in a different language because you knew Spencer would translate it for you. It was those kinds of actions that allowed him to feel useful around you and thus show you how much he loved you. 

You had already read that book once, as you were also an enthusiastic Doyle fan, so he felt free to choose one of his favorite chapters. You didn't lie down as comfortably as you used to, but you still enjoyed reading, with a big smile to return to that habit of yours that you loved so much.

In the midst of everything you reflected that, perhaps, the love between you was something that had not completely disappeared, but rather a latent feeling that had now found an opportunity to appear.

Loving meant many things and if you didn't love it then you wouldn't be there at that moment, but somehow repeating an exclusive activity from your time as a couple made you miss that greatly. Spencer hadn't read to anyone else because he knew that was just yours.

This time you didn't fall asleep when he finished the chapter, but you kept looking at him the whole time, afraid that it was just a ghost in your memory that would evaporate in your hands as soon as you dared to touch him.

Luckily he was very real and inside that small hospital room, you could travel to the past as many times as you wanted without being disturbed. And for now, that was enough for you two.

A whole week passed and everything seemed to be going great. That day Spencer had convinced you to watch a Korean movie he had on DVD and you were about to leave when he cleared his throat to get your attention.

"Before you go, do you think you could do me a favor?" he asked. He could move a little better now and right now his feet dangled to the side of the stretcher, from where he watched you slightly nervous. You didn’t imagine what this behavior was due to.

"Whatever, what do you need?"

"I didn't ask before because... I'm a little embarrassed, to be honest," Spencer wasn't watching you speak and your brow furrowed in obvious confusion at that "But... I asked the nurse if I could take a shower now and she said yes, but I need someone to help me"

Your mouth opened with a soft oh and then you understood why he seemed so shy about the request.

“You don't have to do it if you don't want to” he added “I know it can be awkward, I just don't know who else to ask and you know it bothers me so much being so dirty. I hadn't tried it before because it literally hurt to breathe, but now that I feel better I think I really need it and I would really appreciate it if you… you know."

"It’s okay, Spencer," you replied, taking a few steps toward him, "There's nothing in there that I haven't already seen.”

“I will wear underwear, I don't have to be completely naked. You would just have to help me wash… some parts”

“Then why are you making this fuss? Let's give you that shower!" you laughed, sitting down next to him so he put his arm around your shoulders and you could help him up.

He was still having a bit of trouble from the leg injury, but the bathroom wasn't that far away and you managed to guide him there. The shower was surrounded by a plastic curtain, with a proper chair for patients and a hose with a shower head at the end. You helped Spencer into the chair and while you recovered from the effort you took a look around; there were some toiletries on a shelf that would surely do for him, and a white towel as well.

“Morgan brought me some new clothes and the nurse said we could ask the store manager for a gown,” he muttered, before you started doing anything. You took off your shoes and left them nestled to one side, always feeling his gaze following you.

When you noticed that he didn't take his eyes off you and was just there, sitting, you spoke:

“Should I help you take off your gown or do you take it off yourself?” there was amusement in your words and Spencer, as if taken from a trance, hastened to find the knot of the garment for himself. He was already wearing his underpants below and it only took him to get rid of the material so that he was half naked.

You hadn't seen his wounds until that moment and you couldn't help but wrinkle your face imagining the pain he must have felt. His stitches were still there but they were already healing and he would have at least four scars, plus one twice the size on the leg opposite where he had taken a bullet; that added up to five marks adorning his body. He was never an athletic person, but since he wasn't a very keen eater either he was able to keep himself in shape. Personally, you had always been attracted to him in every possible way, so his physique was never something that bothered you: thin, muscular, with some paunch, you were going to like him no matter how he was.

“Are you going to help me or are you just going to stare at me?” he countered, looking down at you with that expression you knew was the boldest thing he could get, and you snorted a laugh.

"Shut up"

You stretched to reach the shower head to warm the water, not wanting him to catch a cold and knowing that a warm shower would make him feel better because it would relax his muscles. Once it was at the right temperature, you wet his hair a bit and took shampoo in your hands to wash his head. He gave a barely audible moan as you began to massage his scalp and closed his eyes so he could enjoy your touch. Once you were done there you took a sponge and started cleaning his shoulders, torso, and back, trying to be as careful as possible. Sometimes you even let your fingers slip through the side of the sponge to touch his slightly tanned skin, as smooth as it had always been, while you gazed at those moles you'd kissed so many times. The first time you had sex with him, as you watched him in the twilight after the act, you had tried to study every part you could, from the little freckles on his back to the birthmark on his leg, and right now you felt like crying to see those little things about him again.

You were enjoying treating him like this so much and not to mention Spencer, who felt like he was in heaven to feel you so close to him. He could smell your perfume, a little worn, but still present after the whole day and from time to time he dared to look up to meet your face. And every time he looked at you, he remembered why he thought you were the most beautiful woman of all.

"You didn't have to give me the whole shower, you know?" he joked at some point, when you lovingly washed his hands “I just wanted you to help me with the parts I couldn't reach. But honestly, I'm not complaining about this."

Of course the two of you had ever taken a shower together, but it had never been anything like this. They were always things to optimize time, like when you were short of time to go to work or too tired to shower separately. This act was something different, something more private and delicate; it was too domestic. You were taking care of him and at the same time enjoying seeing him in such a docile position, peeking at you from time to time.

"I'm just doing an old friend a favor" you answered with a smile, although when you heard the words out loud it immediately faded.

An old friend. Was that what you were now? 

The place was silent for a moment, with only the sound of water dripping on the white tile floor.

"Did you ever miss me?"

His question had taken you by surprise and you remained silent before answering, trying to figure out what relation the question had to the situation. From the way he'd said it, you almost thought it was one of those things that burned in his chest and he'd needed to exhale.

"Yes, sometimes" you finally answered. He seemed satisfied with the answer "And you?"

"Many times," he laughed, a bit of guilt tinging his words.

A part of you wondered what he was trying to tell you with that: was it a confession… or a declaration? Ending the relationship had been imminent, and if you hadn’t done it that day you could have done it months or even weeks later, however, you weren’t going to lie in saying that you weren’t tormented by the thought of what would have happened if you had tried just a little longer. And that was accompanied, of course, by a tremendous feeling of nostalgia. You wanted to correct your answer and tell him that you had actually missed him terribly, all along, but you couldn't bring yourself to. And he, who couldn't read your mind, thought that he had simply bothered you with an out-of-place comment. 

"You can rinse off while I get a new gown, what do you say?"

Spencer nodded at the idea and then you walked out of there, your cheeks feeling strangely hot. What was happening to you? Did you still have feelings for him?

Maybe the real question was, have you ever stopped feeling something for him? 

It didn't take you long to get what you needed and you came back to find it wrapped in the towel. After he got dressed, you maneuvered in the same way to help him out, although now with the added problem of the slippery floor, and before long he was lying back on the bed.

"I feel much better now" he smiled at you. From the bedroom window you could see the night sky and then you realized how long it took you to shower.

"Do you want me to do something else?"

Your curt response wasn't because he deserved it, but because you were too confused to stay there any longer.

“No, everything's fine. Thank you very much for this”

"You're welcome" you smiled.

"Well... I guess you'll want to go now”

You still knew Spencer too well to know that that slight frown between his brows was a sure sign of concern, and you felt bad for speaking to him in the way you had. To atone a bit for your guilt, you approached him and sat on the edge of the bed, leaning against his body in a hug.

His body still felt warm and comfortable and just as if it had been made to fit yours. His arms held you firmly when he was finally able to react and you felt his chest deflate a little, as if he wanted to give you more space to feel close.

Time passed so slowly that you didn't even know how long you stayed in that position, just enjoying the closeness and his gentle hands rubbing your back.

"I like how you smell" you exclaimed in a low voice, fearing to break the tranquility of the moment and you felt his chest vibrate with a laugh.

“Did you know that your sense of smell is directly linked to the attraction you feel for a person? Your nose captures the pheromones that the opposite body secretes and if it considers it a good candidate to mate then it is pleasant”

"I think it's just the shampoo," you laughed. You turned your head up a bit and Spencer, by inertia, turned down to meet your gaze. "Although I wouldn't need to sniff you to know if I wanted to mate with you”

The joke had been so natural that you didn't measure the weight of the words until they left your mouth, and the worst thing was that the position you were in hadn’t been the most appropriate. You could feel his breath mixing with yours and it was enough to get a little closer to melt your lips in a kiss.

You had put yourself in that situation, as if your body was unconsciously looking for his own, and Spencer hadn't refused at any time. Just like how no one had forced you to stay with him all this time and you still had.

Your boss had been too permissive with the situation during that time, but you were sure that she would no longer be so if more time passed, so you would have to return to the office the next morning. And Spencer had at most two more days before the doctor released him.

And what difference did it make if you kissed him at that moment? Would you ever get a chance to do that again? You didn't have to think about it too much, because he was the one who started closing the distance; an inch, then another, until you felt your lips brush against each other. And he would have kissed you if it hadn't been for the unwelcome ringing of a cell phone that made you jump away.

"It's... yours" you stammered, handing him the old artifact that announced Penélope García's contact calling him.

While he was having a conversation, you didn't even look at him, but started packing your things spread out around the room so you could get out of there as quickly as possible. You could tell by the rush in the man's words that he could read your intentions and wished he could talk to you before you left.

"Everything's good. Thanks for calling, Garcia. Yeah, I love you too. Bye”

"Look the hour! I have to go, I'll go back to work tomorrow and I want to have everything in order" you said as soon as he hung up the call, waving your hands in the air as you spoke as a sign of your nervousness "I'll try to come back tomorrow, but... I don't know if work let me"

“Okay, you've already done too much. I'm fine now,” he assured you, giving a thumbs up with a tight-lipped smile. Even though you wanted to say something the words didn't come out of your mouth, so you just raised your hand to say goodbye and then you rushed out of there.

All the way home your mind was busy processing the feelings that almost kiss had evoked in you and, to be honest, they all ended in the same thing: the wish that he had cut the distance completely. That desire followed you when you showered, when you went to sleep, when you woke up, and all through the workday the next day. Minute after minute your mind could only think about him and what would have happened if you hadn't been interrupted by that call.

As you had feared, you didn’t have time to visit him at night and since you didn’t find the courage to call him personally, you only asked the hospital to pass on the message. You intended to see him a day after that, figuring that the matter would have been forgotten, but your plans were thwarted when Spencer called you to say that they had just authorized his medical discharge. He sounded calm and, of course, happy, when he told you that an ambulance was going to take him to his apartment.

"That's wonderful" you answered honestly. You were sitting at your work desk sorting out some documents, so you held your phone between your ear and your shoulder.

“I just wanted to thank you for everything you did. For all. I… I don't know what he would have done without you here. And you didn't have to, but you still did it. So, thanks"

"I already told you before, you don't have to thank me for anything"

"But I'd still like to," he murmured firmly, "Would you let me buy you dinner sometime?"

You were silent for a second, honestly confused by what he was asking. I mean, you knew what he was inviting you to, but you didn't know why. 

"Dinner?"

“Well, it's the least I can do for you. I have to use crutches for a while again, so we couldn't go out to a fancy restaurant or anything. It would just be us in my apartment, do you still like Italian food? Rossi taught me a great recipe and I think I cook decent enough.”

“Ah… yes, I would love to” you stammered. You thought that after his recovery you would not speak again and things would return to how they were before; but apparently Spencer had other plans.

"How about Saturday?"

“Sounds perfect to me” you breathed out, still a bit surprised and quite nervous about the proposal you just received. Even if it was merely friendly, you were happy to know that he still wanted your company.

Perhaps you had been too hard on him and on yourself by not allowing things to just follow their natural flow, holding onto the misconception that you and Spencer Reid no longer had romantic feelings for each other.

"I'll meet you here then, do you still remember how to get there?"

“If you have the same address, then I still do it”

"Good. I was just calling to ask you that. I guess you're busy working."

"Only a little"

"Well, I'll let you do it. Thanks for accepting"

"Thank you for inviting me"

You guys were silent for a moment and you wondered if Spencer was smiling the same way you were.

"Bye," he said kindly and after saying goodbye you hung up.

You were left smiling like a fool at the idea that your first date in a long time would be with the only man who years ago had been capable of stealing your heart and after taking a few minutes to process it you went back to your work, but not before pointing with circle the date on your calendar, like a teenager in love.

When the day finally came you made sure to look for a nice outfit before your dinner with him, holding yourself back from looking too excited. You rarely wore dresses but, if your memory serves you, he really liked how you looked in them, so you made sure to look for one that would accentuate your figure and make you look more youthful. You carefully combed your hair, put on just a little makeup, and came on your way to buy a bottle of wine. You still remembered the information that he had told you about which wines were best suited for each meal and although you still didn’t know about dinner, you brought a bottle that it presumed to be Italian.

When you reached number 23 on the second floor, you knocked on the door and after hearing a couple of noises, he finally appeared in front of you.

"Hey!" he greeted you happily. He was using his old crutches, had shaved off the facial hair that had appeared during his hospital stay, and was wearing a black apron with white lettering, which Garcia had surely given him, and which read: Kiss the cook. Please I'm very lonely “Come in, come in” 

"How are you?" you asked, stepping into the apartment and greeting him with a gentle kiss on the cheek.

“I’m okay, dinner is almost ready. I had technical complications because I didn't consider that cooking with crutches is more difficult than doing it without them, so I just hope it tastes good" he complained, moving deftly through the apartment to the kitchen "Sit down, I'll join you in a moment"

When he got lost in the kitchen you took the opportunity to take a look at the place. He kept having piles of books both on the shelves and stacked on the floor, on his desk, next to the chair. There were a couple of new artworks on the green wall along with the ones you'd helped him choose in the past, and picture frames everywhere: him with his mom, several with his co-workers (old and new). and you were surprised to see that even you had a space. The frame was smaller than the others, maybe to make it more discreet, but it was carefully arranged on the shelf that, by chance, or perhaps not, contained many of the books that you had given him.

"Do you need help with something?" you half screamed, hearing the crash of some pots and he denied in the same way. The air smelled delicious and your stomach rumbled with anticipation. After a few minutes Spencer was with you, both sitting in the brown leather chair where you had spent so many afternoons together.

“You just have to wait for it to cool down a bit and we can have dinner”

"I brought a wine" you murmured as you handed him the bottle. He examined it and congratulated you on your choice, telling you that it would go perfectly with the pasta he had prepared. "Are you still taking any medication?"

"Not anymore. The doctor prescribed me some things for the pain, but… I'm not taking them” he said, with a guilty smile on his face “I like your dress, by the way”

Hearing this, a satisfied smile spread across your face and you modestly thanked him for the compliment.

As he said, dinner was ready in a few minutes and you accompanied him to the dining room to serve a couple of dishes. Spencer seemed to have put an effort into everything, as he looked really exquisite and you didn't hesitate to compliment him on it even before trying it on. Dinner remained pleasant, with a couple of laughs, jokes and a flirtatious look that sometimes you weren't even aware of. Now that he had gotten rid of the apron, you could see that he was wearing a purple button-down shirt that you had always liked on him, because it fit in all the right places to make him look gorgeous. Besides, that color had always favored him.

Once you were finished, you offered him a drink of wine and he agreed, listing the digestive benefits the drink had for you. He asked if you wanted to go into the living room to be more comfortable and then both of you walked to the rickety chair, taking the bottle with you. Within a very short time the liquid in it was almost completely finished and both he and you became gigglier.

Unfortunately for you, with the laughter that came, your self-control also left. Every time he spoke you couldn't help but let your gaze slide to his lips, a little to be able to correctly understand the words that came out of it and another little just to be able to appreciate the pink color they had; they still looked soft, and you wondered if they would feel soft. 

You didn't know Spencer was aware of the struggle you had inside of you, as he kept talking, laughing, and just looking so handsome while you fell apart. After a couple of minutes, you couldn't resist it anymore. Your body was vibrating with the desire to have him, maybe because of the alcohol in your blood or maybe because he looked strangely attractive when he rambled on about his PhD research.

“Spencer” you stopped him suddenly. He looked at you with a hint of concern for having overwhelmed or bored you with his talk about him and you thought he couldn't look cuter that way.

"What's wrong?" he started to say, but the question was drowned out by your lips trapping his.

You kissed him fast but deep and all the weight of guilt fell on your shoulders when you looked at his reaction; he kept not looking at any specific point and breathing heavily through his mouth, totally petrified by what you just did.

"Sorry, I don't know why I did that" you stammered. You regretted it just because you made him uncomfortable, not because you didn't want to kiss him “I messed it up, didn't I? Are you mad at me?" you wanted to know, panicked, but now it was your words that were cut off by a kiss.

He wasted no time and taking advantage of your shock one of his hands came up to hold your cheek, while he leaned more in your direction. His lips tasted of wine and nostalgia, they tasted of an overflowing love that you had finally agreed to continue feeling for each other.

He kissed you so hungrily that he was making you completely dizzy and you only separated when it was absolutely necessary to breathe, repeating kiss after kiss. He lowered his other hand to your waist to try to get you closer and you, reflexively, climbed onto his lap. It was then that you guys really looked at each other; wet lips, messy hair, hot pink painted cheeks and completely agitated breathing.

"Uh, I..."

"It was too much?" you said fearful. His hands had automatically gone up to your waist, since that position was already quite familiar to him, and yours were on his shoulders.

"No, no. I mean… only if this is okay with you”

You could have told him you were sorry, but that would be a lie. You loved being so close to him, you loved that you finally had your courage, and you loved that he cared about what you wanted. And you were going to tell him, that's for sure.

"I am telling you the truth?" you gasped, carefully holding his face to force him to look you straight in the eye. They were the most beautiful eyes you had ever seen: "Right now all I can think about is how much I need you"

No more words were needed for what happened next. You melted into a kiss again and when you pressed your hip against his, he sighed against your mouth, feeling his crotch suffer the consequences of the heated kisses you were giving him. For a moment he wanted to feel sorry, but he knew better than anyone that you already knew perfectly every inch of his body and from the smile he felt on his lips he suspected that you were enjoying the heat in that area more than you should. It was satisfying to see that you still had that kind of power over him, where you barely touched him and he was already a mess. But you couldn't speak more highly of yourself, because when his hands went to your hips you felt like putty between his fingers.

"You want to…?" he started to say, but your insistence on kissing him barely left him thinking "Do you want us to go to my room?"

Spencer was afraid he was going too fast and scaring you with it, but he couldn't find another way to interpret the result of what you were doing. He just wanted you to be as comfortable as possible.

"Yeah, I think so" you answered in a whisper.

You got up from your seat and took his hand intending to help him up, until the crutches next to the sofa reminded you of the man's physical condition. Spencer looked at the hesitation in your eyes, but he didn't give you time to back down, because in one quick movement he was on his feet and crossing to the door that led to his room, ignoring any kind of pain he might feel.

Once there, he sat on the bed and pulled you towards him to continue kissing you. None of you bothered to turn on the light to continue what you were doing. You thought the position might strain him so you gently and carefully pushed him back to lay him flat on the bed. This allowed him to better knead the soft meat on your thighs and you rewarded him with enthusiastic kisses on his neck.

You separated a little until you were sitting on his hip and then you undid the buttons of his shirt. You made sure to gently kiss the wounds he had made and Spencer just sighed with each touch of your lips. A little needy to kiss you, he also stretched out his hands to your dress, asking with his eyes for your consent to lower the zipper and get rid of it.

The dress was left tossed somewhere in the room and you leaned in just enough for him to smear kisses down your shoulders and across your chest. You could tell that he was taking his time and that only increased your desire to have him, to feel him inside you and make you his as he had done so many times.

  “Y/N” he whispered against your mouth and you just hummed a nod “Darling, can you help me take off my pants?”

The nickname had come so naturally from his lips and had sounded so delicious that you had to suppress a groan. He called you that all the time, he was a very vocal man and it wasn't uncommon to hear him say those kinds of things. Both in bed and out of it. 

You did exactly what he asked and you took the opportunity to slowly pass your hand over the bulge in his crotch, hearing him let out the first moan of the night.

“Hey, do you have a… uh, some protection?” you asked timidly. You loved him and trusted him, but a baby wasn’t what you needed; at least not at that time.

"In the usual drawer"

As if no time had passed, you rummaged with your hand in the left side of the second drawer in the nightstand, until you found what you were looking for. Sudden and unwarranted jealousy swept over you as you wondered if he had invited other women to spend the night and if those others could find things as naturally as you had. No one knew Spencer as you did, you were sure of it, because he wasn't a man who opened up easily to others. And no matter how many people had passed through your life, no one would understand you as much as he did. 

Once you put the condom on, you took the opportunity to pump it up and down with your hand and the man's whining made you realize that he had really missed you. Both of you were trembling with anticipation, so with one movement you discarded your missing items and climbed back into his lap. Still a little fearful you looked at him and even in the middle of the darkness you realized the loving eyes on you.

“If it hurts just tell me and I'll stop. I know you're still delicate and I don't want to hurt you.”

"You would never hurt me" he answered and although you wanted to believe that they were limited to his injuries from the accident, you knew that it wasn’t so.

Those words carried more weight than you thought. They were a vote of confidence that he gave you over your entire person, not only his physical condition, but also his feelings and desires.

When you became one you groaned in unison and took a moment to get used to each other again. Your movements became soft, constant, and deep and he, unable to do more, just enjoyed that feeling.

After a few minutes, things went beyond the physical plane you were on; you realized that no one, ever, could make you feel what he did. You felt complete, whole and loved. You loved to hear everything that came out of his mouth and respond with an even more obscene sound. You loved that he knew the right points to touch and when to do it, you loved that he looked for your kisses in the middle of the act and you loved that being with him everything became so passionate and intimate. At that moment it was just him and you, no one else. As it always should have been.

After a while both bodies were already covered by a fine layer of sweat and your hands, small compared to his, leaned on his biceps to be able to move better against him.

"I missed this so much" you confessed, your voice muffled by uncontrollable moans "I missed you so much, you don't know how much I did"

He wanted to answer you, but the truth was that for the first time he had run out of words. He could only feel your body pressed against his and your boobs bouncing with each thrust.

There were certain gestures, movements, and sounds that told Spencer when you were about to arrive, so when he heard your erratic breathing and sensed your hesitation, he placed both hands on your hips to help you keep up.

At some point you felt the knot in your belly forming and you just let yourself be guided by it, anxious to feel the ecstasy exploding in you. It was enough to feel your walls pressing against him, your loud moans and a couple more pushes for Spencer to reach his own orgasm, wishing that the hot liquid had filled you instead of the barrier that protected you.

Your body fell against his, completely surrendered, and you felt his chest rise and fall as you tried to catch your breath. One of his arms, still clad in his shirt, slid around your waist and his lips groped for your forehead to place a small kiss. You were exhausted, but at the same time overflowing with joy, and he shed a single tear. Maybe because he had had a good orgasm in a long time or maybe because of the overwhelming reality that you had just made love to him.

For a few minutes you stayed like that, so peaceful and calm that you feared falling asleep in his arms.

“Y/N” he whispered, your name slipping from his lips so softly you thought you misheard.

"Yeah?" you inquired in a whisper. You two had always liked to talk for a bit after the sex rush wore off, as a way to keep things romantic.

"Risking to ruin the moment, can I ask you something?" he murmured and you rearranged yourself to face him to watch him. He looked so handsome, with dilated pupils and a flushed face, that you thought you might take him again right then.

"Whatever you want," you replied, gently brushing back the hair that had stuck to his sweaty face. You were drunk with love, he could have asked you to lower the moon and you would have done it without hesitation.

"What did this mean to you?" he added cautiously. You knew better than anyone that Spencer needed a certain security in things as well as people. The question would come eventually, though you thought you would have more time to think of an answer that would suffice. “It's okay if you say you just felt like doing it or that it was something that happened in the moment, I understand. I just... I don't want to get the wrong idea."

“And what would that wrong idea be?” you asked curiously. Suddenly he had become shy and just avoided your gaze without knowing how to respond to that, but you took him by the chin to force him to pay attention to you "Spence?"

“I don't want to have any illusions about you. If you don't see something in the future with me, that's fine, but at least I'd like to know."

They were not aggressive or demanding accusations; they were just sincere words with which he sought to protect his heart.

"I honestly don't know what's going to happen to us," you replied. A disappointed expression came over his face and you took him by surprise when you reached up a bit to kiss him again, but this time reassuringly and gently "But today I realized that you are perfect for me, in all the senses. And that I can never love someone like I love you. Does that answer your question?"

“I guess I feel the same way” he replied, but this time he was smiling slightly “And I know that we should have ended a long time ago, but… if your heart agrees, I think I'd like to start over. We were both in a bad situation back then, but now things could be different."

And of course they were going to be, because a part of you was convinced. You loved him, you had admitted it, and you knew he felt the same way about you. That was enough.

"I guess you're right. As always, Dr. Reid” you laughed, hearing his melodious laughter as well.

"For once, that makes me happy" he confessed and almost a second after that you heard him let out a weak moan that made you aware that you were pressing your chest against his still-fresh scars.

But to be honest, any previous signs of pain had been dwarfed by the pleasure of your body grinding against his.

"Maybe I should move" you apologized, but when you tried to, he didn't let you, instead tightening his grip on his arm against you.

"Don't do it” he begged you "Stay here just a little while longer"

For him, you could stay your whole life if he asked you to. Now you were sure of that. He was sure of that.

And now that you two had it back, you weren't going to let it go.

taglist: @navs-bhat @reidwritings @tricia-shifting14

[hannieehaee]

18+ / mdi

content: f2l!jun, jealous!jun, a lil bit of possessiveness, he's in love with u, afab reader, smut, penetrative sex, semi-public sex, etc.

wc: 1994

a/n: i love writing jun he's so ... he's so jun

masterlist

jun was an idiot.

okay, maybe that was too harsh.

no, actually that was pretty much correct.

because if he wasnt an idiot he wouldnt be standing here right now, watching as the pretty bartender flirted with you.

had he acted on his feelings earlier (or literally ever), he wouldnt have to watch as the bartender gave you free drink after free drink, clearly slipping you his number on a napkin. what did he have that jun didnt? balls? yeah, maybe. but it wasnt fair! jun was your best friend, it's not like he could just give you his number and call it a day. you already had his number! that, and he needed to go through the whole 'sorry, i know we're just friends, but id like to submit an application for the promotion to boyfriend now.' he already had a whole thing going with you; a very platonic thing.

so now all he could do was sit there and watch. watch you in your pretty dress, hugging your body in the most delicious of ways, as the bartender looked you up and down, almost as if he was planning the easiest way to eat you right there and then. jun needed to stop this. you didnt seem uncomfortable or even phased by it, just showing plain disinterest, so he really had no valid reason to storm over there and drag you away. which is why he wasnt sure why he did just that.

you knew jun as a bit of a weird guy. someone who just did things without much thought in mind. so it didn't surprise jun when you didnt question him upon marching up to you, churning out an excuse of 'we need to go to the bathroom!' before pulling you away from the bartender's vicinity.

to be fair, he did take you to the bathroom. he quite literally took over the bathroom, walking you in and locking the door behind him, not allowing any other person to enter. it was an exaggerated yet ominous act. once he calmed himself down a bit, he turned back to you as you looked at him with wide eyes, head turned slightly to the side, clearly confused at his actions. okay, yeah, this was weird. even for jun standards.

"what was that?" you asked, wondering why he was being extra dramatic than usual.

"uhh .. that? just, i .. i didnt- i didnt like the way he was looking at you .." jun was never good at thinking on his feet. he needed time to formulate answers and think. and even then, he would sometimes stumble over his words, just like now.

"what? he just gave me his number. it's not like-"

"no! you should- you should throw it away. uh, please?"

"why would i do that? he was cute, i was thinking of hitting him up an-"

"NO!," his words interrupted you again, leaving his mouth before he could think.

"jun, what's wrong with you today ..?"

"listen, i ... i- it's just .."

"jun! what is it??" you were clearly growing more and more confused by the second. jun needed to salvage the situation. except, in true jun fashion, he did the opposite of what he intended.

"i like you, okay?," he gulped loudly before continuing, "i dont want a stupid bartender giving you his number. i dont want to see guys staring at you at the gym. i dont want jeonghan flirting with you. it's- it's all driving me crazy. i know i shouldve told you, okay? i know. i'm too late, i know. i shouldve asked you from the day we met. but you were so ... and- and i panicked! i love being your best friend, i do. but- but i just like you so much. i like you and i dont know what to do. i-"

"jun."

"no, listen! i get it. we're best friends and we've been best friends forever, and i know you don't see me that way, but-"

"jun!"

"-but watching you get attention from all these guys is just making me so- it's driving me insane. i cant stand the thought of you with someone else anymore. i know you havent really dated since we met, but even the thought makes me-"

"wen junhui! shut up!!"

he finally slammed his mouth shut at this, finally allowing your interruption to get through to him. he was now paying full attention to you. you were closer than he remembered before he started senselessly ranting at you. you were right in front of him, actually, staring up at him with eyes he had never seen before.

you grabbed his arms, limp at his sides, and wrapped them around your waist, now pressing the two of you almost chest to chest. he didn't know where this was going, but he'd allow you to do whatever you wanted as long as it meant it was him you were looking at and no one else.

"junnie ... you're such a fucking idiot."

okay. he already knew that.

"i like you too."

wait, what?

he gaped at you, "what?"

very smooth.

"you're so fucking stupid. you couldve just told me you liked me," despite your insults, you now had your arms wrapped around the back of his neck, almost pulling him down to you. it had his heart beating like crazy as he kept his own arms wrapped around you.

"i- you liked me?!"

"yes, you idiot! why do you think i havent dated anyone since we met?"

"i thought maybe you just didnt have any game, i dont know!"

"jun!"

"shit. sorry, i meant- hmph!"

your attack on him had been too quick for him to even process. without having realized, you had pulled him down the rest of the way, quite literally launching an attack on his lips with your own. for a few seconds he just stood there, eyes wide in surprise as he let you kiss him with no reciprocation. he was too shocked to respond, despite how badly he wanted to. it went like this until you pulled away, probably thinking this wasnt what he wanted.

he panicked once again, immediately pulling you back to his lips, backing you up against the nearest wall. that's when he really started to perform to his full potential. he pulled all stops, feeling nothing but pure bliss at finally feeling your lips against his. he licked frantically into your mouth, running his hands up and down every inch of your body, sighing at every moan that escaped your mouth and entered his.

he felt like he was on cloud nine, with you so pliant against his hold. suddenly an animalistic sense deep within him started to come out. every soft sigh you released against him, and every shudder of your body had his resolve breaking. he had to hold back from picking you up and pounding you into the wall. whatever it was that was taking over him, he had never felt before. there was a cloud in his mind giving him sinister thoughts; thoughts of you crying as he pistoned into you, letting all his desires finally release after the years-long wait for you to land in his arms.

"w-want you so fucking bad. please ...l he opted for communicating his desires, wanting nothing more than for you to reciprocate his insane want for you.

your response was found in you licking into his open mouth as he spoke, whispering at him to do whatever he wanted to you, claiming you had waited far too long to feel him. revealing that you thought of him every night and that your resolve had broken long ago.

his eyes rolled back at your lust, knowing his matched by a tenfold. he made quick work of your dress, pulling it up to uncover your crotch while pulling his own pants down just enough for him to begin rubbing his length against the thin cloth of your panties. he wanted your nude body so badly, but he knew it wasnt the time nor place. he'd save that vision for another day (most likely an hour or so, maybe after making you scream his name in the pub's bathroom).

"junnie ... please just-fuck! just fuck me," he understood your rush, already growing drunk on the feeling of his cock rubbing against your delicious cunt. god, that was yet another thing he needed to save for later; your thighs suffocating his head as he licked every drop of arousal out of you.

no. he needed to concentrate. he needed to get his cock wet and warmed up by your pretty cunt. and that's exactly what he did next, moaning out at the feeling of you enveloping him almost as if he'd belonged there all along.

"that's ... shit, that's such a pretty cunt, baby. fuck ..."

"wanted this cunt for so long, shit, fuck. it's so fucking good."

"all mine now ... no one else can have it .."

"fuck, gonna take you home and keep you locked in my room. go-gonna fuck you every day to make up for lost time, shit."

he couldn't help the candid words leaving his mouth. his mind kept screaming at him to show you how fucking badly he wanted you. there was nothing more perfect than the feeling of your body against his, all while your mewls of pleasure filled his ears. the thought of taking you home and keeping you in his arms forever made him feel like he was in nirvana. it almost overpowered the actual feeling of nirvana your cunt was giving him as you strangled his cock between your walls.

god, your cunt. he always knew you'd feel like heaven, but nothing couldve prepared him for this. no longer did he ever have to worry about the platonic wall that had been placed between him and your beautiful body (and mind and soul and everything else). now he had you all to himself, and he'd never let another man even imagine being in his current position.

"junnie ... need to cum. please. y-you're so fucking big. fuck!"

he needed to hear more of you. needed you to cry about his big cock bruising your cervix. so, he did what any reasonable person would and began pistoning in and out of you at a savage pace, feeding on the cries of pleasure leaving your lips.

"th-right there! fuck! junnie, please ... do-don't stop. gonna cum. g-gonna- shit ..."

not a single sentence could leave your body anymore as jun finally triggered your impending orgasm, with your own end dragging his out of him almost immediately.

the two of you breathed heavily against each other, hands unable to separate from the other's body for even a second. it felt comfortable; right. it was as if you'd done this together before. he felt like this was what he was supposed to be doing all along.

"do you really like me back?"

"jun, you idiot. yes! i wouldnt have let you fuck me in a dirty pub bathroom if i didnt like you."

"ah. hah, just making sure," he wasnt too sure where the horny monster inside of him had gone, now going back to his slightly awkward demeanor.

"now ... are you gonna make good on your promise?"

"huh?"

"gonna take me home and keep me locked up in your room?"

oh. you were flirting with him. your hands were rubbing at the back of his ear, making him swoon at your delicate touch. fuck, you were good at this. one word from you and he was putty in your hands. but it was fine. he liked it that way.

"y-yes."

"then take me home, baby. show me what you've been wanting to do to me all this time"

jun made a mental note to thank the bartender on his way out for making him jealous enough to act on his feelings as you dragged him away, clearly just as eager to get on his bed.

thank fucking god for that stupid bartender.

[ratatouillewastakendammit]

OMG I LOVED THE Tomorrow, I promise SO MUCH 😭🔥🙏🏻 have you considered of making part two? id be begging on my knees

I'm so glad you liked it!! Thanks for the request! (Also for the person who requested the Hawks version of this trope, it should be done soon! 💙)

Tomorrow, I promise

Pairing: Dabi x Reader

Warnings: language; slight smut/suggestive; as always I have no beta reader and this was made in maybe under two hours because I wanted to get it to yall quickly <3

Find part one here!

"You ready to beg yet?"

In all honesty, your answer would've been yes.

The desire to give in was heinous, to throw away your pride for the tickle of heat budding below your abdomen and that wicked smile coming from the man above you.

Then you heard the knock on the door.

Practically falling off of the bed, your right knee hit the floor, pulling a curse from your mouth as the wood scraped against your skin. You scrambled to your feet, allowing yourself a deep breath for composition before turning the knob.

Magne and Compress met your line of sight, both looking upward as your door creaked open, the hinges rusted with age and lack of care.

"Good morning!" The redhead grinned, lowering her sunglasses to get a better view. "We figured it had been long enough for the quirk to wear off, so we wanted to check on how you were doing..."

Her voice trailed off, face scrunching in surprise. At first, you weren't actually sure why.

Until you felt the wave of heat gnawing at your back.

Eyes narrowed, Dabi had a hand placed on the left side of the door frame, leaning slightly and wearing an expression of pure annoyance.

Magne bit her lip. "Did you two-"

"No!" You sidestepped a few inches, heat blooming in your cheeks. "We definitely did not."

Dabi scoffed, muttering a quiet, "Yeah, thanks, assholes."

"Plus Shigaraki wants to see you two, talk about tomorrow's mission or something." Compress, seemingly able to ignore the less-than-kind comment, nodded to the stairway. "Unless, of course, we're interrupting anything."

Grabbing his free arm, you yanked Dabi in front of you, effectively pushing the group out of the room. "Nope, sounds good. See you soon, bye."

The hurried burst of words was followed by the slam of your door and a sigh. The sound of relief echoed through the space, now devoid of that warmth you kicked yourself for missing. Body resting on the wood, almost like a barricade to the world outside, you pushed yourself forward and towards the dresser.

Picking out a pair of jeans and a hoodie was easy.

Facing the rest of the League was not.

You tried to listen to your leader's explanation of what would be going down tomorrow, fidgeting under the cerulean gaze stemming from across the room.

For what seemed like hours, Shigaraki droned on and on about how pissed off he would be if you messed up again. It felt like a millennium before he waved you all off with a lazed flip of his hand.

Jumping up from your chair far too quickly, you sped-walked to the stairs, going at least two at a time in the direction of your room.

Unfortunately, you weren't fast enough.

Deft hands slid around your waist from behind, picking you off from the mismatched wood and tossing you over Dabi's shoulder.

"Put me down, asshole!" You yelled, ignoring the way his hand rested ever-so conveniently over your behind.

"Sorry, doll," he replied, ushering a soft squeeze to the area above your thigh. The sound he earned drew a wicked grin across his features as he opened the door to his own room. "But not happening."

Locking clicking into place, he marched forward and tossed you onto his bed.

That seemed to be happening far too often lately.

"Wanna know what else isn't gonna happen?" He was on you before you could sit up, hands placed on either side of your body and arms caging you in. "You aren't gonna sit there and pretend like you don't have a thing for me."

"Why the hell does it matter?" You scoffed. "You don't feel the same, so just let it go. Try your best not to be a prick for once."

The words pulled at your chest, but the silence was worse. Abundant and humid, it hung over the air like a toxic gas as Dabi stared at you.

"Are you fucking serious?"

"I-"

"Do you know how fucking hard it was to watch you sit there and bat those pretty, little eyes and go on and on about how much you liked me? How hard it was to say no when you, of all people, are practically begging for me to take you?"

"So, you just wanted to sleep with me."

Rolling his eyes, he smirked. "If I wanted a simple fuck from you, I would've done it yesterday when you were frothing at the mouth."

"I was not." You mumbled, face heating.

"Oh, come on, princess. You gotta admit how needy you are for me at some point." Dabi cradled your chin with his hand, pulling your face upward as he inched closer, the warmth of his breath tickling your ear and sending a chill down your spine. "Or else I can't show you how much I like you."

Tongue running across your neck, his free hand moved under your shirt, hesitating just enough to give you a chance to pull away. When you didn't, his fingers traveled beneath your bra, cupping your chest gently.

He pinched your nipple, earning a small moan. "So, let's hear it."

"Fuck," you cursed, back arching into the warmth of his touch. "Yeah, fine. I like you too, or whatever."

A smirk pulled at the corner of his mouth. "You can do better than that."

"You're an asshole."

"And you're an idiot." He pushed his lips against yours, tongue skimming the bottom, begging for entrance, a request that you happily indulged.

The heat of his touch coursed over your body, warm and inviting and absolutely nothing like the mask he wore. It felt safe, a pure contradiction to what the world saw. The idea that he was only like this with you made your chest feel light.

When he pulled back, taking that heat with him, it was like the air had been sucked from your lungs. Still, the way that he looked at you had a pleasant fervor running through your limbs.

"How the hell could I not like you?"

[fox-guardian]

[ID: A two-page digital comic of original characters Lila and Gigi. Lila is a tall, skinny, white, goth trans woman with a long ponytail, bangs, and the sides of her head are shaved. She has pointy ears, fangs, long black nails, is wearing dark dramatic makeup, and she has two industrial piercings, massive ear gauges, angel bites, and a lip ring. She is wearing a poofy miniskirt, collared blouse, corset belt, and knee-high platform boots. Gigi is a small, scrawny, white person with short hair, light patchy facial hair, and body hair. They are wearing a baggy t-shirt, hoodie, shorts, and socks. The background is black and white while Lila is colored in lilac and Gigi is colored in a dark pink.

Gigi sits on their bed playing on their phone before Lila slams the door open with a "WHAM". Gigi is startled and asks "Lila?" with no response as she marches in. She stands in front of Gigi as they look up, confused, before she flops over onto their bed with a "FWUMP".

Lila: I need him to go missing Gigi: oh my god Lila, lifting her hands in frustration: (all caps) I need him GONE, he can't do this to me Gigi, amused: oh my GOD Lila, sitting up and grabbing Gigi's face, pulling out her phone: Look at him! Look at this BULLSHIT!

The next panel shows Lila's phone displaying a tiktok of Redd, a stout, scruffy trans man wearing a flannel shirt and a ball cap, holding up a set of belts over his arm, looking deeply anxious. The text over the video reads "we got BELTS" with sparkles around the word "belts".

Lila looks at the video with sparkling eyes as Gigi stares at it confused, face squished in Lila's hand.

Gigi, now looking at her: are you s- Lila, suddenly snarling: (bold text) I need to eat him alive. (the word "alive" has a dripping underline) Lila, now leaning over herself, hair falling onto the floor, making claw hands at the air: I need to SHRED HIIIIM!! Gigi, back to playing on their phone: you are down horrendous

end ID]

~~~~

hey remember that time i said i was gonna make a comic with my ocs. haha yeah <3 WELL I DID IT FINALLY. i present to you, lila being down horrendous for redd and her best friend gigi only somewhat judging her for her taste in men

[kingslayermarshmallow]

The sea is a tumultuous place. The waves heavy and hard on the shore, forever renewing and washing new shells and sand. The creatures lurking below the dark waters are what intrigued him most. Him, being Clark Kent, a humble fisherman, netting for shrimp and other seafood. 

The ocean always fascinated him. The color of the water and how the current can change in a moment's notice. A child's fancy. 

It wasn't until he began reading about sea creatures that he became interested in being a fisherman. Mermaids were the most intriguing things he's ever heard of. Half human, half fish? It can't have been possible. But it was! 

The day he saw a mermaid was the best- and worst- day of his life. 

Clark had woken up with a splitting headache. Did he drink enough water the day before or take his vitamins? No. But that wasn't important. Not when he had a full day ahead of him. 

Clark had a question for himself. Today was the day! He was going to find a mermaid. As juvenile as it sounds, that childhood dream of finding a mermaid had never died. 

So, he pushed away the pain in his head and got dressed. His forever optimistic approach to life fueled him. Clark was absolutely determined to find that childhood creature he was so fascinated with. 

Why today? Well, in all the folklore he's followed, the ides of March is the date that pops up the most. Yes, the Shakespearian date of Julius Caesar's death. It's silly, but from what Clark has read, it is the most common day mermaids are seen on. 

The water was suspiciously calm. Almost still besides soft waves lapping at the shore. Clark just sat there on the water. He didn't want to cast a line, fearing that he would catch something… or someone. 

And he waited. The sky is decidedly grey and gloomy. This certainly doesn't feel like a good day for a mythical creature to pop up. But, he sat politely in his boat, waiting for something to happen. 

There are no ripples of fish surfacing. It's as still as the ocean can get. 

The air is humid and warm. Despite most people disliking the wet warmth of the air quality, Clark found it comfortable. He decided that he would be on the water all day, waiting for the slim chance to get a glimpse of that fabled creature. 

He ate his all packed lunch silently, staring at the water. His eyes searched the blue expanse, looking for ripples. He tossed the last of his sandwich in the water, hoping for some kind of sign. 

A large fish surfaces to eat up the sandwich. Not a mermaid. Do mermaids like sandwiches? He thought vaguely. 

His eyes grew heavy. His lunch wasn't that big, but he still felt drowsy after his apple and sandwich. He hunkered down, resting against the bottom of his tiny rowboat. He kept his hope, still staying in the water. 

He fell asleep at some point. The nice humidity lulling him into a quiet sleep. The rocking of the boat soothed his nerves and excitement. His soft snores filled the silence. 

He was jolted awake by his rowboat being aggressively bumped into. He shot up from his comfortable resting spot. His eyes darted around the area. It wasn’t a harsh wave that woke him. He sees how the water ripples around him. 

Something bumped into his boat. It wasn’t a soft bump. 

Then, he sees it. The large, glittering blue tail, the way the scales turn into a thick skin. Black hair slicked back on a well formed head. Features handsome and regal. 

A mermaid! He had finally seen one after all these years. His childhood dream had come true at this moment. The mystical creature that his Ma and Pa said he was crazy for believing in is right before him.

Clark just stared. He doesn't want to ruin this moment. 

The mermaid doesn't look too pleased, though. His eyes are narrowed and suspicious. The mermaid lets out a series of clicks and high pitched sounds. Clark stays completely still. He doesn't want this moment to pass him by. 

The moment lasts a minute longer. The mermaid- merman?- keeps up his curious clicks. Clark doesn't do anything at all. He is neither threatening nor kindly. Neutral. His eyes are wide, wonderous with excitement and amazement. 

The mermaid stops his commotion. He comes closer to the rowboat, his irises cat-like and curious. 

“Hello?” Clark's voice trembles. He can hardly believe his eyes.

The mermaid simply stares, his pupils dilating and shrinking as he studies Clark. They sit like that for several minutes, staring and staring. 

Clark reaches out a trembling hand out. What would a mermaid do with his hand? He isn't sure. But he reaches out anyway, inviting affection or a hard bite. 

The mermaid looks at the outstretched hand, considering the offering. The mermaid hesitantly takes the human hand in his. 

There's a weird connection between them. A trust that forms is hesitant but true. Fingers touch and each being knows the other means no ill intent. 

And the mermaid swam away. 

The next day, Clark came back. He came back to the exact same spot in hopes of seeing the mermaid again. 

And that silvery tail showed again. And again, Clark extended his hand. Again, the mermaid took his hand. 

The same scene repeated for a week before Clark decided to start speaking. the Mermaid seemed to understand but was unable to speak back, only making clicks and trills. 

Clark named him Bruce. He certainly looks like a Bruce to him. Black hair slicked back, and a tail that glittered. 

Clark could talk for hours. And Bruce just listened. Clark isn't sure if Bruce catches all of what he says, but he doesn't mind. It's good to just talk. He talks about nothing in particular. His childhood, his parents, how he became a fisherman. 

One day, Bruce doesn't show. Clark waits on the water, anxious. He scans the sea, looking for that silver tail. He waits all day, his stomach too upset to eat anything. 

He goes home that night, discouraged. Had he said something? Was the mermaid simply not interested in him anymore? He couldn't sleep that night. 

He shouldn't be that upset. A mythical creature- that isn't so mythical anymore- had sat with him and let him talk for however long he wanted. That had to be a one time occurrence, right? 

Clark returns to the water anyway. His heart feels heavy, though. Has Bruce really just blown him off without another thought? He really shouldn't feel so crushed by this. 

Clark's boat rocks in the water, the waves pleasantly small. It's a nice day. A cloudless day with a blue sky. Humid, like always, but nice in general. 

Clark has his hopes up, though. Maybe it was a fluke. 

But, again, Bruce doesn't show. 

Clark is, again, unreasonably sad about it. 

That goes on for a week. No activity. Clark begrudgingly goes about his business as normal. After A week, he has to accept that the mermaid was simply a strange occurrence. That is, until Clark's boat shakes violently. 

That silver tail is seen again. Clark jolts up, his spirits lifted instantly. It's been a long time since he's been so happy to see another person. 

 He straightens his back, and an excited smile crosses his face. 

Bruce appears, his expression showing annoyance. Bruce has a child in his grip, the little mermaid twisting in his upset. Bruce plops the child in the boat, setting him into Clark's space like a disgruntled mother dropping off a baby at a daycare. 

Clark nearly jumps out of his skin, making sure the child doesn't fall or tumble out of the boat. He thrashes for a few moments, unhappy. “Woah, Woah!” 

He looks in the direction where Bruce appeared. He's gone. Had he really just dumped his kid on him like a free babysitter? Yes, yes he had. 

Clark spent the day taking care of the mermaid child, entertaining him and keeping him occupied. Clark had found a way to keep him curious by simply doing his job. Fishing. Mermaids are apex predators, so the child snacked on the fish Clark caught all day. It was nice. 

When Bruce came back to collect his sleepy child, he tossed a few golden coins into the boat. Bruce is paying him? The coins looked old and were worn down. 

Clark accepted the coins. “This is yours?” The child looks a lot like Bruce. It's like looking in a mirror. 

Bruce Makes an affirmative noise. He scoops up the child and swims away. Bruce has a kid now, I guess. He thinks quietly to himself. 

And the next day, Bruce returns with another mermaid baby. 

“Aw, two babies.” 

Clark does the same thing he did the other day. Entertain the kids until Bruce comes back and accept the coins Bruce gives him. 

The cycle continues. 

“Three… Okay…” 

“Four, that must be it, shouldn't it?” 

“Oh, a girl! That's so sweet!” 

“Okay, six?” 

“How many kids do you have?!” 

“Bruce come back, I can't entertain eight kids!” 

And that's how Clark Kent became a babysitter for eight mermaid children.

[bluecollarmcandtf]

Typical Day For a Bouncer

I'm Joey, a security guard at a night club down the street. I got the job because I'm a big ex-rugby player, but I've kept it for so long because I'm good at handling people. I can't tell you how many underage idiots try to sneak in here. It takes patience, grit, and a keen eye to keep the troublemakers out!

Like any other Friday night, the club is packed tight and a line of impatient patrons stretches down the street. I've gotten good at telling people "no," in a way that makes them listen, so they have no choice but to calmly wait until I feel like checking their ID and letting them in.

Every now and again, I'll have some fools try to sweet talk their way in. Girls try to flirt, guys try to bribe, but the biggest assholes make a scene. It's nothing I can't handle.

Just last week, I had this entitled brat come up to me and demand I let him in. The boy couldn't have thought I'd believe he was twenty-one. He wasn't even in line! I don't remember what I did to get him to shut up, but he kept hammering on and on about his skills with hypnosis. I remember listening to that kid ramble about the voodoo of the mind for what felt like forever.

I don't remember kicking him to the curb, though. He probably got tired and went home.

"Hey, buddy!" a familiar voice squeaks over the music. I roll my eyes, preparing myself to say no yet again.

"Oh, it's you," my deep voice catches in my throat. The kid from last week is standing in front of me once more, ignoring the line of adults to his left. In his ratty sweatshirt and baseball cap, he doesn't look any older than eighteen. Still, the sight of him unlocks a memory I somehow had forgotten. "Hello, sir!" I call back, remembering him as my closest and most respected friend. How could I've forgotten that this boy was my best friend I call sir?

"You gonna let me in, big guy?" A devious grin spreads across his boyish face.

"Of course, sir."

There are a few angry comments from the people waiting in line. I can't imagine they're happy to see this guy ushered into the club before them. Normally, I have a strict policy against VIP treatment. I think everyone should have to wait in line like equals, but sir is great. He can come and go whenever he wants!

"Hey, why don't you take a break from the front and buy me some beers," the boy yells over the roar of the music.

I leave the entrance and start pushing my way through the crowd in the direction of the bar. I probably should've warned the other bouncer that I was taking a break, but my feet were carrying me away before I knew what was happening. The other guard knows what he's doing, but he's still pretty new here. I'm sure he'll be fine.

The bartender gives me a can of light beer, and I hustle it back to the boy on the dance floor. People tend to get out of the way when they see a giant security guard coming through, but the place is so jammed packed that I have to press against several sweaty partiers on the way over.

"Your beer, sir," I say, flinching at the meekness in my voice.

"What the hell is this?" he whines when he sees the drink, "This is crap. Get me the good stuff, and buy a lot of it!" The kid tossed the open can at my broad chest, and the cheap beer splashes across my uniform.

"Yes, sir."

I march back to the bar with a clenched fist, and grab a tray, ordering the barback to fill it up with the more expensive bottles of beer. He glances at my soaked shirt and pants, but averts his eyes the second he sees my less-than-friendly face.

That boy is my best friend. I respect him greatly, but goddamn is he infuriating. How did I even become close to someone so immature? I pacify myself, and carry the tray back over to the kid.

"That's better," he snorts and takes a sip of the premium drink while I stand there to make sure he likes it this time.

"Alright, sir," I begin, thinking about the twenty minute break I've been taking, "I need to get back to work."

"No you don't!" the boy interjects.

"I..." the words fumble in my mouth, "...well, I don't need to, but I should, sir."

"Tell your boss you're done for the night. Then go wait by my car. You can guard it!"

"Yes, sir," the words come out before I even know what I've agreed to.

Before I know it, I'm marching into the back office and calmly telling the club owner that I'm taking the night off. He's pissed, but I'm his most reliable employee, so he doesn't fire me. I can tell he's not happy, though. He looks like he'd take a swing at me if I weren't two feet taller than him and a hundred pounds heavier.

"You make a great watchdog!" the teenager laughs as he comes stumbling out of the club.

Something about him brings a scowl to my face. It might be the way he referred to me as an animal, or it might be the way he's staring at me like I am an animal. Maybe I'm just irritated from standing by this parked car in the cold for the last two hours, but this boy is getting on my nerves.

"No one has bothered your car, sir," I report.

"Good, boy," he slurs and then reaches a gangly arm to pat the top of my head. I can smell the distinct earthiness of the beer I'd bought wafting out with his breath.

Every muscle in my body tenses up, as I try my best to restrain myself. Sir is my best friend. I respect him. I do what he says. I shouldn't get this worked up by him making a little joke at my expense. It's perfectly fine for him to tease me a little since I trust him completely. I know all this.

"Still think hypnosis is fake?" he asks, bringing his wet lips uncomfortably close to my own.

"Sir?" my brow furrows, unsure why he's bringing up that crap again.

"Well, it's real, and you're hypnotized."

I stifle a groan, "Sir, you've had a lot to drink..."

"The only thing I'm drunk on is power!" he yells, smashing a bottle on the sidewalk for effect, "I've got you like a trained dog; that's how good of a hypnotist I am! Let me prove it."

I was pissed. I was livid. Sir had mocked and insulted me repeatedly. It was a bad idea for anyone to pick on me, especially someone a third of my size! Nevertheless, the boy has all my faith, so I kept my mouth clamped shut.

He told me to kneel, and I grunted, "Yes, sir." I already had beer all over my clothes, so what's a little mud on the knees of my pants? It was better to just keep him happy, but that didn't mean he had hypnotized me.

"Keep your arms raised, like you're worshipping me," he went on.

"Yes, sir."

My arms went up. I'll admit this was a bit more strange, but I still trust and respect the teenager enough to comply. That doesn't say anything about my state of mind.

"Alright, now stay like that until I come back," he laughs, "I'm going to get a snack, but if anyone walks by, I want you to bark at them like the hypnotized guard dog you are!"

"Yes, sir," I answer, hearing the hoarseness in my voice.

As the boy stumbles away, I find myself stuck in the position he'd left me in: on my knees, in the cold, with my arms raised in compliance. I'm doing this willingly, right?

Time creeps by uncomfortably slow as I silently wait next to his car. Suddenly, I hear footsteps nearby. A wave of barks burst out of my throat, and I find myself growling like a territorial mutt in the direction of the pedestrians.

Now I'm acting like a dog!

Sir doesn't come back for another hour, which leaves me to viciously snap at numerous other passerby. They seem terrified, which makes sense. They probably think I'm insane! I'm beginning to wonder if I'm insane too.

I respect that boy more than anyone even if I only met him once, a week ago. I really would do anything he told me too. Is that strange? It's not like me to be so...obedient. I'm the kind of guy that normally tells people what to do, so why am I doing this?

There's no way...it's not possible...I can't actually be hypnotized, right?

"Good, boy," he pulls off my cap and ruffles my hair, "Now, be a good dog and drive me to your house. I might fall asleep on the way there, so you'll have to carry me inside to your bed. If you do good, I'll give you a special treat." He licks his lips and reaches a scrawny hand out to squeeze my tired pec.

"Yes, sir," I answer, jumping up to do his bidding, but I can feel that the words aren't really mine.

Shit. I think he's right. I think I am hypnotized.

[joeys-babe]

Joey B Imagines: I Can’t Help Myself*

————————————————————————-

Summary: While Joe’s away doing foundation stuff, there's an overwhelming amount of photos of him popping up on Twitter and Instagram. All of them had you patiently waiting for your fiance's arrival home.

Warnings: Smut

Pairing: Joe Burrow x reader

Imagines Universe: Just the Two of Us

A/N: Apron and shirtless Joe have me feral, had to speed-write this.

————————————————————————-

March 3rd, 2024

It all started with an innocent text from my bestie.

Attachment: 1 Image… Tumblr is going crazy over this right now!

At that moment, I shook my head with a laugh at my best friend's text. She was on Tumblr to keep up with her celebrity crushes, but one day, she jokingly looked my fiance's name up. She would never give me details about what was on the ‘tag’, but she'd now and then tell me what was up with Joe Burrow Tumblr.

Joe had left the house earlier today for a foundation event at a soup kitchen here in Cincy. Robin and Jimmy, Joe’s parents, had come from Athens and were going with him.

By the looks of the picture my best friend sent, Joe wasn't having as bad of a time as he anticipated he would. This morning was full of endless grumbles before I eventually shoved Joe out of the door, but he was smiling in the picture as he poured some soup into a bowl.

He seriously looked adorable. The Guinness hat gives him an oddly innocent look, while the apron he's wearing adds to the cuteness factor.

I'm so buying that man an apron to wear when we're cooking. I thought to myself, giggling out loud.

After sending my bestie a quick response back, I pulled up Joe’s contact.

Nice apron, cutie. 😉

Naturally, It was a while later when Joe answered, but his response set butterflies off in my stomach.

Depending on the intentions behind the wink emoji, I could ask to bring one home if it works ya up.

Taking a few moments to calm down, I shot a nonchalant response back to Joe.

The hat too?

The hat too. I draw the line at the plastic gloves, though. I gotta feel you with no barriers, baby.

How this man can control every pulse point in my body with just his words will never fail to amaze me.

Shit, my mom was reading that beside me. 😬

JOSEPH LEE BURROW.

My stomach dropped at the thought of Robin reading her son practically dirty-talking to me. That's next-level embarrassment.

I'm joking, babe. See you later, with an apron and hat.

Omg, Joe! If I was with you right now, you'd get smacked in the back of the head. I love you, though. See ya later!

Love you too. 😘

This morning, Joe woke up ready to go. I'm not talking about being ready to go to the foundation event, I'm talking about sex.

Joe woke up most mornings wanting a quick romp to start the day, so it had slowly become a part of our daily routine.

It was a different story today, though.

—

Still naked from the previous night’s lovemaking session, Joe had pulled me into him as our lips met. I'd just gotten close enough to grind on his erection when Joe’s phone rang on the nightstand.

“You should probably get that.” - you said between kisses

Joe groaned out of annoyance when he pulled away and grabbed his phone, rolling his eyes when he saw the caller ID.

“Who is it?” - you stroked his chest

“My mom.” - Joe

“Why'd you roll your eyes then?” - you

He sighed and pulled me into his chest, moving his hips away, knowing any friction would make him lose control.

“She treats me like a little kid every time we have one of these foundation events.” - Joe

“You're her baby, Joe. She’s just looking out for you.” - you

Joe nodded with a sigh and accepted the call.

“Hey Mom, yeah I'm awake.” - Joe

His deep, raspy morning voice made my cheeks heat up, and I hid my blush in his chest.

“My shirt’s been ironed, yes. y/n ironed it and laid it out last night.” - Joe

The silence gave me the ability to hear what Robin was saying, and the words she said only made my heart flutter.

“You better have thanked her. Joe, I don't think you realize how lucky you are to have that woman by your side.” - Robin

“I'm very lucky, Mom. Wouldn't be who I am without her.” - Joe

“Make sure she knows that. I'll see you later, sweetie!” - Robin

“Bye, Mom.” - Joe

I cuddled closer to Joe, listening to him mumble a quick “Yes, I love you too” before hanging up.

“Wouldn't be where you are without me, huh sheisty?” - you laughed

“Shut it.” - Joe rolled his eyes

A few seconds of content silence passed before Joe cleared his throat and sat up.

“Okay, I'm like super horny right now, but I'm gonna push that away because I've been thinking about something.” - Joe

“What's that?” - you

“We still haven't told anybody that I proposed. I told you we could wait till we got back to Cincy, and we've been back for weeks. I'm trying to say that we need to tell our families soon.” - Joe

“Oh ok, that's fine. Whenever you want to, I'm down.” - you

“Actually? Just like that?” - Joe

I giggled and gently reached out to comb back the curls that had fallen over on Joe’s forehead.

“Yeah, just like that. It's been fun keeping it just between us, but I want nothing more than telling our family we’re gonna get married.” - you

“Can I also ask you about something else?” - Joe

“Mhm.” - you

Joe sighed and took a second to clear his thoughts.

“You okay?” - you

“Yeah… I'm just trying to pay attention, it's kinda hard to, you know…” - Joe

He flicked his head down toward the tented sheet covering his lap.

“Focus, babe.” - you laughed

“Okay, uhm… what if we got married earlier than this coming offseason?” - Joe

“What do you mean?” - you tilted your head to the side

“What if we got married at the courthouse, no one else there? Just you, me, and the judge. It could be as soon as next month or as late as a week before our actual ceremony.” - Joe

I let his idea sink in, thinking about how sweet his idea of getting married soon is.

“I’m listening.” - you smiled

“We won't do our big vows or even exchange rings yet, just the license saying we're married, and hopefully your name change.” - Joe grinned

“y/n Burrow.” - you

Joe grinned from ear to ear, a blush on his cheeks as he heard my first name paired with his last name.

“Always thought that sounded perfect. I remember thinking about it on the first day of college during roll call. I couldn't take my eyes off of you after our professor said your name, and I thought about your last name as Burrow.” - Joe

“You're adorable.” - you

“Thanks.” - Joe

A few seconds went by without either of us saying something, but Joe broke it with a sigh.

“Are we going to continue what we were doing before your mom called?” - you

“Sadly, I have to start getting ready. Waiting will make tonight even better, though.” - Joe winked

“How do you know I'll even want it later?” - you

“You will, baby. You always do.” - Joe

—

Now, here I was, staring at a picture of my fiance pouring soup into a bowl.

Something about the moment just screamed husband.

Maybe it was the adorable apron. Or hat. Or plastic gloves.

Whatever it was, I wanted more of it. More of him. All of him.

My thoughts lingered to the most intimate moments with Joe. Catching myself before I got too worked up, I pulled up my phone to scroll through Instagram.

As soon as I did, though, my plan of a distraction was shot to hell.

Justin Hillard made a post of the Arizona trip the boys went on and one of the last slides showcased a sweaty, shirtless Joe.

“Where's Joe when you need him.” - you groaned

—

What felt like hours later, I heard the garage door open signaling Joe was home.

A minute later, his tall frame was striding into the kitchen. I watched him look around for a second before his eyes landed on me.

A grin formed on his lips as he walked up to the couch. Joe dropped to his knees in front of me and leaned in for a kiss.

When I went to pull away, Joe grabbed the back of my neck to keep me in place. After a few minutes of making out, Joe finally pulled away.

“Sorry, I really needed that.” - Joe sheepishly smiled

“It's alright, I did too.” - you smiled

“How was your day? I didn't leave you too bored, right?” - Joe

“My day was good, and no. I spent most of it obsessing over the new pics of you.” - you

“Felt like I never left then, huh?” - Joe

“Dead wrong. Staring at the pictures only made me miss you more.” - you

I watched as Joe teasingly licked his lips, never once breaking eye contact.

“Why's that?” - Joe

“Cut the shit, Joe. You know exactly why.” - you

“Because we didn't have sex this morning? That's why you missed me?” - Joe

“Well, that's not the only reason why. I naturally hate being away from you, but yes sex has something to do with it.” - you

Joe reached out and placed his hand on my inner thigh, nestling his hand against my crotch.

“Wanna go upstairs then?.” - Joe

I nodded, and Joe was quick to stand up and pick me up bridal style.

Giggles flew from both of our lips as Joe hurried up the stairs to our bedroom.

Soon, Joe was laying me on the bed and crawling on top of me.

“I love you.” - you said between kisses

Joe smiled and returned the sentiment, my arms wrapping around his neck as we kissed.

“Listen let's just get straight to it. I've been looking forward to this all day.” - you

“You don't want the tongue & finger combo first?” - Joe

I laughed at his bluntness before nodding my head.

“I need you inside me.” - you

“Fuck, I love hearing you say that.” - Joe

Joe placed his lips back on mine and shifted his weight onto one arm, lifting the other hand to unzip his fly.

I helped him shed his pants off, but Joe took my hand away when I reached for his boxers. He sat back on his knees for a second to pull his shirt over his head, quickly returning to his position above me when he was done.

My arms were around his shoulder as Joe slowly dropped his hips to grind on me. Just seconds later he'd pull away to take my clothes off.

When we were both naked, Joe’s lust-filled eyes scanned over my body before reversing course and locking with mine.

“God, you're beautiful, baby.” - Joe

After Joe lined himself up to my entrance, he slowly pushed inside. Making sure I felt every inch of him.

“You feel so good.” - Joe groaned

“You too…” - you

“So hot and wet for me, baby.” - Joe

Joe didn't move for a minute, just savoring the feeling of my walls wrapped around his hard cock.

“Joey, move, please?” - you

I watched him nod before he leaned down and pressed a tender kiss to my cheek. Joe formed a path of kisses from my cheek to my lips.

Once he met my lips, Joe slipped out of me before slamming his cock back inside.

Both of us moaned loudly when his tip hit my cervix, my walls squeezing Joe’s thrusting cock as he set a rough pace.

“You feel insane.” - Joe moaned

“I've been dreaming about this… all day.” - you

A few minutes later, Joe and I were still locked together at mouth and crotch.

“I'm not gonna last much longer.” - Joe moaned

“Me… neither.” - you

Joe’s face contorted as the overwhelming pleasure coursed through his body. His cute nose scrunching as his eyes are clenched shut.

“Oh, fuck!” - Joe grunts

Seconds later, with a shaky hand, Joe reaches down to where we were connected and rubbed my clit with his thumb. His thrusts became uneven but never once unsatisfactory.

“Joey! I'm gonna cum!” - you moaned

It wasn't much longer after that when I fell over the edge, moaning Joe’s name through my climax.

Joe continued his thrusts before rushing to get as deep as he could.

His head fell back, and his mouth fell open. A moan and grunt of my name leaves his pretty pink lips as he cums.

After his orgasm, Joe fell forward and on top of me. Burying his face in my neck as he stayed inside me, fading out the experience.

I reached a hand up and cupped the back of Joe’s head, slowly running my fingers through his unruly curls. The comforting sounds of our mutual heavy breath and the ceiling fan created a soft moment.

“You really liked that apron, huh?” - Joe

“Yeah.” - you giggled

Joe stayed there for a bit, enjoying being cuddled before he eventually pulled out and hopped out of bed.

My eyes lingered on his perfectly plump butt as Joe walked into our bathroom, later returning with a washcloth to clean us both up.

He strode up to me as I stayed lying in the bed. Joe softly caressed my thighs while gently spreading my legs apart.

I hummed in contentment at the feel of the warm washcloth, and Joe only smiled at the sound.

After cleaning himself up too, Joe slipped on a pair of clean boxers.

“Do you want one of my shirts to sleep in? Panties too, maybe?” - Joe

“Just one of your shirts will be fine.” - you smiled

Joe nodded and disappeared into the closet. A few seconds later, he walked back in with one of his pregame shirts that was from a previous season.

“Lean up for me, baby.” - Joe

I did his bidding and Joe slipped the top over my head, making sure my arms went through the sleeves.

“Comfy?” - Joe

He walked around the bed and climbed into his side.

“Very, and it smells like you.” - you grinned

“I hope that's a good thing.” - Joe laughed

“It's a very good thing, you smell delicious.” - you

Joe chuckled as he pulled me into his chest, one of his big hands running over my back as my head was hidden in Joe’s neck.

“I love you.” - you

“I love you more.” - Joe

He lovingly stroked my hair, providing tender words of affirmation and holding me tightly in his arms during their comforting aftercare ritual.

“Oh shit, do you know what I just realized?” - Joe

“What?” - you

“My apron is down in my car. I forgot to show you.” - Joe sighed

“It's okay. You can show me tomorrow.” - you giggled

“Guess what.” - Joe

I narrowed my eyes, trying to see his expression in the dark but failing.

“What?” - you

“I grabbed one for you too.” - Joe smiled

“Oh my god.” - you laughed

“I couldn't help myself!” - Joe

He laughed along with me before we both paused, coincidently yawning in sync, which ended in another laughing fit.

“Goodnight, baby.” - you

“Goodnight, my love.” - Joe

————————————————————————-

Authors note: because Joe was illegally fine that day.

Came from my own head! 💞

[livwritesstuff]

So you know how parents always have that *one* story about a time where their kid scared them beyond this universe — like their kid could be a daredevil and constantly trying their patience but this particular story is the most harrowing, scariest situation they’ve been in. (This may not be universal but I’m hoping I’m explaining it right lol)

What do you think would be Steve and Ed’s stories for each of the girls?

tw: hospitals, illness, car accidents, in general proceed w/caution if sensitive to children sustaining injuries/illnesses

When Moe was about six months old, she got sick – really sick, hospital-trip sick. All Steve really remembers is that one minute her appetite wasn’t what it usually was, and the next her temperature had spiked to 104 and something about her breathing was not normal and they were on their way to the ER.

They'd ended up staying for three days, Steve didn't sleep the entire time, and because it was before Moe's adoption was finalized, they had all kinds of DFS paperwork to fill out in addition to the mountain of documents the hospital had given them. Steve remembers having to coordinate with Ed dropping everything off at the DFS office and thinking for the first time ever in their years of fostering kids how stupid it was that he was expected to focus on following DFS procedure instead of being there for his baby girl.

The scariest moment with Hazel was the time they lost her.

They’d been at the New England Aquarium with all three girls on a Saturday afternoon – ridiculous, in both Steve and Eddie's opinion, and honestly they weren't even able to enjoy outings like these because they’re still in the stage where they spend the entire time anxiously keeping track of the girls (who were having the time of their lives, obviously – that's why they're suffering through it).

So when Steve did a headcount like he usually does every so often and came up with two, his heart flipped over. He checked again, and again only counted two. 

Triple-checks. Two.

In real-time, they hadn't lost sight of Hazel for more than ten seconds, but it was the longest ten seconds Steve had ever lived by a mile, and he’d spent the whole time thinking that it had to be the worst-case for a situation like this because it was Hazel. If Moe or Robbie got separated from them, they would have no problem marching up to the first person in an NEA shirt they could find and demanding help finding their dads. Hazel, though, is quiet and shy and usually stuck to them like glue. She won’t talk to strangers in the best of moments, so there was no chance she’d find it in herself to try during a bad one.

Turns out, Hazel had been so mesmerized by the jellyfish that even after they all moved on to the next display, Hazel just had to turn back to get one more look, and Eddie had his head screwed on tight enough that day to think of checking there first.

Later, Steve reneged on their plan to take the girls to Boston Pride (which would have been in a few weeks) because it had been scary enough losing track of Hazel in an enclosed space where there were only so many places she could wander off to. The idea of it happening in the dead center of the city, with all those crowds of people, with infinite directions for her to go…no chance. They’d try again next year.

Between all three girls, the scariest moment by goddamn lightyears was Robbie.

When Robbie was fifteen – a high school freshman but placed in the senior-level band class – the school took their music classes (band, orchestra, chorus) to Disney World for the performing arts workshops they offer in the spring.

The student-adult ratio on trips like these is pretty terrible and, in Steve's opinion, there is too much unsupervised independent time for a group of high school students.

Way too much.

A few days into the trip, one kid – a senior with a fake ID who Robbie was friends with through band – managed to commandeer a car and convince a group of kids to blow off curfew and secretly explore the city.

Three hours and half a liquor-store’s worth of alcohol later, Steve got a call from one of the chaperones telling him that his fifteen-year-old was unresponsive in a hospital in Florida.

Planning their last family vacation had taken three entire months of planning and indecision and research.

It took less than five minutes for Steve to get flights booked for the next plane bound for Orlando.

“Maybe if she hadn’t gone on the trip in the first place…” Moe trailed off innocently as she watched her dads pack – she's anything but innocent though. Moe had been pissed to all hell that Robbie got to go to Disney World and she didn’t. She’d spent weeks trying to weasel her way onto the trip to no avail, and she’d been sulking the entire four days Robbie had been gone.

“Not another word,” Eddie warned her, his tone icier than perhaps he’s ever heard directed at one of his kids. Moe opens her mouth to retort, but he cuts her off, "So fuckin' serious, Moe. Not the time."

Robbie had been in pretty rough shape when they finally arrived which was horrible to see – especially for Steve, who had always connected the way Robbie was similar to Eddie with the way Eddie almost died, so seeing her unconscious in a hospital bed, light brown curls strewn out over the sterile-white sheets and tangled amongst all kinds of tubes and wires was pretty much a nightmare come to life.

He was actually thankful for Eddie’s threats to find the idiot driving the car and murder him because he seemed pretty serious about it and making sure he didn't do that gave Steve something to focus on other than counting the hours Robbie had been in the hospital all alone.

[acute-crashout-jeyuso]

Sacrifices (Book 2 of 3 BTR Series) a Jhea Fanfic.

Chapter 25: Maybe..

March 1st, 2025 2:11 PM

Jey worked out in his home office, sweat dripping down his back as his feet pounded rhythmically against the treadmill. He’d set the incline high and pushed himself hard, his focus on maintaining his stamina and strength despite his limited in-ring schedule.

Rhea was out with her parents, shopping in Stamford. It wasn’t often her parents visited, so Jey had encouraged her to spend the day with them. Meanwhile, their home buzzed with its usual chaos. Jesse and Jeremy made their rounds outside the property, ensuring everything stayed secure. Jeremiah watched as Bella and Barry, the playful dogs, were running around the yard, occasionally barking at nothing in particular. Storm, the aloof cat, was nowhere to be found—probably off scheming in some hidden corner of the house.

Jey’s focus was abruptly shattered when his phone began to ring on the desk next to the treadmill. He slowed the speed to a walk, breathing heavily as he grabbed a towel to wipe his face before glancing at the caller ID. Jonathan’s name flashed on the screen.

With a sigh, Jey accepted the call. “Hey, bro,” he greeted, his voice still slightly breathless.

“Hey, man,” Jonathan’s voice came through, casual but warm. “We were thinking about coming up to visit for a bit. Trinity said a weekend wasn’t enough time, so we figured we’d come up.”

“Yeah, that’s fine,” Jey said, stepping off the treadmill and stretching his arms. “I don’t mind. What day you thinking about flying in?”

Jonathan hesitated for a moment, as though gauging Jey’s reaction. “We were thinking Tuesday. Jaciyah’s birthday is Friday, so we figured we’d stay till Sunday.”

Jey froze, the words hitting him like a freight train. “Fuck!” he blurted out, his hand immediately running over his face in frustration.

On the other end of the line, Jonathan’s tone turned incredulous. “Wait, wait, hold up—you forgot your firstborn son’s 18th birthday?”

Jey groaned, pacing the room now, his frustration with himself growing. “Man, it’s been so hectic lately. Between Rhea’s pregnancy, Rhea still not opening up, her parents being in town, and everything else going on, it slipped my mind. Damn, Jon, I feel like shit.”

Jonathan laughed softly, though it carried a tone of disbelief. “I get it. But come on, this is Jaciyah’s 18th. We gotta do something good.”

“I know, I know,” Jey muttered, pinching the bridge of his nose. “I’ll make it up to him. I’ll plan something special.”

“You better,” Jonathan said, his voice lighter now. “We’ll help out when we get there. Trinity’s already thinking about what to buy for him.”

Jey let out a breath, grateful for his brother’s understanding. “Appreciate it, man. I’ll figure out how to make this the best birthday he’s ever had.”

Jonathan chuckled. “Sounds like a plan.”

“Definitely.” Jey said, cracking a small smile. “I’ll see you Tuesday.”

After hanging up, Jey leaned against the desk, staring at the blank wall in front of him. Guilt gnawed at him. Jaciyah was his firstborn, his pride and joy, and forgetting his birthday—even amidst all the chaos—was a blow to his own sense of responsibility.

Jey began to pace around his office, phone in hand, as he called his son Jaciyah. The line rang a few times before Jaciyah finally picked up. Jey paused his pacing briefly..

“Hey, Dad,” Jaciyah greeted, his voice casual but warm.

“Hey, son,” Jey replied, his tone light. “How’s everything over at your mom’s?”

Jaciyah chuckled. “It’s going good. Mom made brownies the other day, and man, I had a dang sugar attack. I was bouncing off the walls.”

Jey laughed, the image of his son hyped up on sugar making him smile. “I bet you were. Listen…” Jey hesitated, trying to find the best way to steer the conversation. “So, I hear someone’s got a birthday coming up soon.”

There was a pause before Jaciyah cut straight to the point, his voice brightening with excitement. “I want Rhea to make a triple-layer yellow cake with chocolate icing, I want a BBQ, and I want you to meet Daya.”

Jey blinked. “Hold up—who’s Daya?”

Another pause hung in the air before Jaciyah’s sheepish voice returned. “The girl you caught me with.”

Jey leaned back in his chair, raising an eyebrow. “Ah, so that’s her name. Alright, alright.” He chuckled softly, but his tone shifted to something more serious. “You sure about introducing her to the family? That’s a big step.”

“Yeah, Dad, I’m sure,” Jaciyah said confidently. “She’s important to me, and I want her to meet everyone.”

Jey nodded, respecting his son’s decision. “Okay, I hear you. So, no big party? Just a BBQ and cake?”

“Yeah,” Jaciyah replied. “Just something small with the family. Nothing too crazy.”

Jey smiled, a wave of relief washing over him. A smaller gathering would make things easier to manage, and he liked the idea of keeping it intimate. “Alright, son. I’ll make it happen. It’s gonna be a birthday to remember.”

“Thanks, Dad,” Jaciyah said warmly. “Oh, and tell Rhea I’m counting on that cake.”

Jey chuckled. “I’ll let her know. Love you, kid.”

“Love you too, Dad.”

Hanging up, Jey leaned back in his chair, already making mental notes of what needed to be done. He’d need to talk to Rhea about the cake and reach out to Trinity and Jonathan about the BBQ. And then, of course, there was Daya. Meeting his son’s girlfriend for the first time felt like a milestone of its own.

Jey couldn’t help but smile to himself. This birthday might’ve caught him off guard, but he was determined to make it a special one.

—

Rhea entered her and Jey’s house, bags of baby clothes in tow, her heart light with the excitement of the day’s shopping. The air felt comfortable and familiar, but there was a slight tension in her chest as she walked toward the living room, where Jey was waiting for her. He rose from his seat and kissed her cheek as she handed him the bags. Jey smiled as he saw all of the contents and set the bags gently on the coffee table.

“How was the trip to the mall?” Jey asked, a soft smile on his face.

Before Rhea could answer, her mother interjected, holding up a small onesie with a white and grey dinosaur design. “Oh Joshua, I brought the perfect onesie for my grandbaby.” Rhea’s mom was beaming, her eyes filled with love as she held up the gift, a pair of white booties and a matching beanie in her other hand.

Jey took the items from her mother and examined them with a smile. “It’s cute,” he agreed, his tone affectionate. He put the items into the bag and sat down on his spot on the couch.

Rhea, feeling the weight of the day catching up with her, collapsed onto the couch next to Jey. Her body ached from shopping and the long day, but seeing her parents’ happiness made it worth it. Her mother smiled at them both before excusing herself and Rhea’s dad, taking them to the guest room for some rest. The house settled into a peaceful quiet, just the two of them now.

Jey’s gaze was lingering on her with a mixture of affection and concern. “I forgot Jaciyah’s birthday,” he said, his voice tinged with guilt.

Rhea looked at him, a small smile tugging at her lips despite the underlying frustration. “I know you did, but I didn’t,” she replied softly.

Jey looked at her, confusion flickering across his face. “How?”

“I remember birthdays better than you,” Rhea teased, but the humor didn’t quite reach her eyes. Her tone held a hint of frustration, an emotion she had been carrying for days now.

Jey ran a hand through his hair, sighing. “What would I do without you?” he asked, his voice sincere, though a little playful.

Rhea’s smile faded as she leaned back against the couch. She exhaled deeply, her gaze distant for a moment before she spoke, her voice quiet but steady. “I don’t know… maybe think about that before you say something stupid like what you said to me in Titusville.”

Jey’s expression softened, his eyes searching hers. “Babe, I love you, but you’re still not over it?” His voice held a trace of frustration, but more than that, there was concern. He didn’t understand why this one thing was still lingering in her mind.

Rhea looked at him, her eyes narrowing slightly. “Joshua, what you said really hurt me,” she said, her voice steady but thick with emotion. “If you can’t see why I’m not letting this go…” She trailed off, feeling the weight of her words.

There was a long, heavy pause. Jey opened his mouth to say something, but Rhea cut him off, shaking her head. “Forget it,” she muttered under her breath.

Without waiting for his response, she stood up from the couch, her movements brisk as she grabbed the bags and turned away from him, heading toward the stairs.

Jey watched her, his heart sinking as he processed her words. He had hurt her, and despite his love for her, he couldn’t understand the depth of the pain she felt. He heard her footsteps fade as she ascended the stairs, leaving him alone in the quiet of their home.

Rhea, on the other hand, made her way to the bedroom, her thoughts racing. She didn’t want to let the hurt fester between them, but she couldn’t shake the feeling that what Jey had said in Titusville had exposed something deeper. Something he didn’t fully understand about her—about their relationship.

She laid the baby clothes on the bed and sat down beside them, her mind still on the conversation. She needed time. Time to process, to breathe, and to find a way to heal from the hurt.

For a moment, all she could think about was the weight of everything—the baby, her future with Jey, and the small things that seemed to pile up without resolution. Rhea sighed heavily, trying to find a way to center herself.

Meanwhile, Damian descended the stairs, his casual demeanor slightly dampened by the weight of the conversation he knew was coming. He took one look at Jey and, with a shrug, said, “What’s up?”

Jey sighed, his frustration clear. “Rhea again.”

Damian couldn’t help but laugh, more out of disbelief than amusement, as he grabbed a Sprite from the fridge. He sat down on the loveseat across from Jey and took a sip. “You really pushed her with that shit you said,” Damian remarked, his tone more serious now. “And you know what? I don’t blame her.”

Jey ran a hand through his hair. “I fucked up,” he admitted, his voice tinged with exhaustion. “I know that. I’ve admitted that. But why can’t she just forgive me and love me?”

Damian set his drink down, the weight of his words catching Jey’s full attention. “You do realize this is like the fourth time you kinda fucked up, right?” he said, his voice even but firm.

Jey shot him a confused glance. “What the hell do you mean?”

Damian leaned forward, his gaze sharp. “Well, first there was Portland, where you pushed her. Don’t even try to deny that one. Then there was keeping Jeyce from her after Takecia threatened you. She almost killed herself, Jey. She nearly ended it all because she thought she’d never have a chance to be your wife or be a mother to Jeyce. That’s not just a fuck-up. That’s something you need to really own. Thirdly, there was that argument back in January, when you called her out… if I remember correctly she needed to learn how to stop running away from shit.” Damian paused, his eyes narrowing. “Fourthly… Titusville.”

Jey looked down, guilt washing over him as each instance rolled off Damian’s tongue. But Damian wasn’t done. “And that’s not even mentioning the shit you did when you two weren’t together,” he added. “Like asking her to leave Matt while you stayed with Takecia. That shit? Took the cake. It was messed up.”

Jey winced, his chest tightening as the full weight of his mistakes hit him. “Okay,” he said quietly, trying to process everything.

Damian sat back, his tone softening. “Man, I get it. You love her. I can see it, but the way you’ve been treating her—it’s been a lot. And she’s been through enough shit already. She doesn’t deserve to keep dealing with your mistakes. You have to show her, not just tell her, that you’ve changed. That you’re not going to keep repeating the same shit over and over.”

Jey didn’t respond immediately. The silence between them was heavy, filled with the weight of everything Damian had just said. He wanted to argue, wanted to justify his actions, but he knew Damian was right. Every word cut deep, and he couldn’t pretend that things were as simple as just saying “sorry” and hoping things would go back to normal.

Finally, Jey spoke, his voice hoarse. “I just want her to forgive me, man. I don’t know how much more I can do.”

Damian sighed, his expression a mixture of frustration and sympathy. “You can’t just expect her to forgive you because you say sorry. You have to prove it. You’ve hurt her in so many ways, and she’s been loyal to you through it all. But now, she’s at a point where she’s probably wondering if you’re ever going to change. If you’re going to keep breaking her heart.”

Jey slumped further into the couch, the weight of it all bearing down on him. “I don’t know what to do anymore. I love her, but… I don’t want to lose her.”

Damian gave him a stern look. “Then stop making excuses. Stop taking her for granted. You’ve got to show her that she’s your priority. And more importantly, you’ve got to show her that you’ve learned from all this.”

Jey nodded slowly, taking in the advice. He knew deep down that Damian was right. He had taken Rhea for granted more times than he could count, and now it was time to prove that he was capable of doing better. If he didn’t, he feared he might lose her for good.

“I’ll do better,” Jey muttered, more to himself than to Damian. “I just need a chance to show her.”

Damian stood up, stretching out his arms. “Well, it starts with not making the same mistakes again. She deserves better than that, and if you really love her, you’ll show her that.”

—

Later on in the day, Jey gently tended to the roses in the greenhouse, carefully trimming away the dead petals, when he heard the familiar creak of the door opening behind him. He turned around to see Rhea’s father stepping inside, a look of quiet admiration on his face as he gazed at the barely-blooming sunflowers.

“I hear from my daughter that you have a green thumb,” Rhea’s father said, a slight smile on his lips as he took in the rows of plants.

Jey chuckled softly, wiping his hands on his jeans before straightening up. “Yeah, my mother was the gardener. Had me and my twin helping her every weekend morning growing up. It’s a bit of an inherited skill, I guess.”

Rhea’s father nodded, a look of understanding crossing his face. “Where’s your father in all of this? Was he around to help?”

Jey’s expression shifted as he thought back to his childhood. “My father was having a wrestling career,” he said, his voice quieter now. “I only saw him about two months out of the year. So it was mostly my mom, us kids, and the garden.”

Rhea’s father frowned sympathetically. “I can imagine how that must have been tormenting.”

Jey shrugged slightly, trying to push the old memories aside. “I managed,” he said simply.

The two stood there for a moment, the peaceful hum of the greenhouse filling the air as Rhea’s father moved to admire more of the plants. After a beat, he looked at Jey again, his tone a little more somber. “I believe you are the one for my daughter.”

Jey froze, a curious but cautious look in his eyes. “What do you mean?” he asked, his voice tinged with confusion.

Rhea’s father glanced over at him, his eyes softening. “A few years ago, Rhea took care of her mom by paying for her entire cancer treatment,” he said quietly. “That woman was on her last leg, and Rhea… she did everything she could. Every month, without fail, she sent money for everything. I couldn’t afford it on my own because my retirement wasn’t enough to cover the medical bills. But Rhea, she kept us afloat. She did all of that without ever asking for anything in return.”

Jey’s expression turned somber, his gaze shifting to the ground for a moment as the weight of the conversation sank in. He hadn’t known. He hadn’t realized how much Rhea had been shouldering on her own, all the while dealing with everything in her life.

“I didn’t know Mrs. Bennett had cancer,” Jey said quietly, his voice full of genuine surprise and sorrow.

Rhea’s father looked at him, his eyes distant for a moment as he remembered the hardship. “Breast cancer. Almost took the love of my life away,” he said, his voice thick with emotion.

Rhea’s father sighed, taking a step back to admire the plants again, as though the memories were easier to face this way. “My memory does serve me right.. yup.. for about four years, every month, Rhea would send money. We couldn’t have made it without her. She worked harder than anyone I’ve ever known, and she never let us feel like a burden. Even when it was hard for her, she never let it show.”

Jey stood quietly for a moment, processing the gravity of what he was hearing. Rhea’s strength, her loyalty, the burden she carried all on her own for so long—it made everything that much more profound.

“She’s in remission now?” Jey asked softly, almost afraid of the answer but needing to hear it.

Rhea’s father smiled, though it was a bittersweet smile. “As of April 2022. Thank God,” he said, his voice heavy with relief.

Jey let out a soft breath, the weight of it all sinking in. “Thank God,” he repeated, as if to himself. He could hardly imagine the pain Rhea had gone through, and now it made so much more sense why she was the way she was, so fiercely independent, always carrying the weight of the world on her shoulders.

“She’s a hell of a woman,” Jey said quietly, his voice filled with admiration.

Rhea’s father looked at him, nodding slowly. “That’s why I trust you with her,” he said, his voice firm but kind. “You love her. And I can see it, Jey. But you have to understand, there’s a lot of hurt she’s carried. She’ll never show it, but it’s there.”

Jey met his gaze, understanding the silent warning. “I know,” he said softly, his voice determined. “I won’t let her down again.”

Rhea’s father studied him for a moment longer before giving a slow nod. “Good. She deserves everything, Jey. Don’t forget that.”

Jey nodded back, his heart heavy with both the responsibility and the love he felt for Rhea. This was his chance, not just to prove himself to her, but to truly understand what she had been through—and do whatever it took to make things right.

Jey stood there, the weight of the conversation pressing deeper into him. Despite hearing the story of Rhea’s strength, something still gnawed at him—something he couldn’t quite shake.

“Did Rhea ever speak of me when she was with Matthew?” Jey asked quietly, his voice filled with curiosity and a hint of lingering doubt.

Rhea’s father paused for a moment, his gaze distant as he seemed to search through his memories. Then, with a slow nod, he responded, his tone thoughtful.

“She did,” Rhea’s father said, his voice laced with a heaviness Jey hadn’t expected. “I didn’t know this at the time, but at their wedding, my daughter asked us if she chose the wrong person.”

Jey’s breath caught, his heart tightening as he processed the words. He could almost hear Rhea’s voice asking those questions, torn and uncertain, just like the woman he knew.

Rhea’s father let out a long sigh, his expression softening. “I didn’t have it in my heart to tell her yes,” he continued. “So, I just told her that whatever she decided, we would be beside her.”

Jey swallowed hard, feeling a knot form in his chest.

Rhea’s father walked over to one of the sunflowers in the greenhouse, absentmindedly brushing his hand over the petals as he spoke again, his voice low and reflective.

“On her 27th birthday, I tried to talk to her about Matt’s behavior. I tried to tell her she deserved better, but she didn’t listen. She was stubborn, as always,” he said, a slight chuckle escaping his lips despite the seriousness of the conversation. “I love my daughter, I do, but sometimes she has to make a mistake in order to learn. And when she falls, I’ll always be here to help her get up, to help her learn from it.”

Jey absorbed the words carefully, understanding the deep care and frustration in Rhea’s father’s voice. It was a painful reality—that Rhea had to go through that period of uncertainty and heartache on her own, trying to find answers, trying to make it work with someone who wasn’t right for her.

Jey’s heart began to sink further. He had always believed in Rhea’s strength, but hearing how her family had witnessed her struggle, her father’s silent support, it hit him harder than he had expected.

“You did the right thing,” Jey said quietly, his voice full of sincerity. “Sometimes we have to let them make their own mistakes.”

Rhea’s father turned to face him, his gaze hardening slightly but filled with understanding. “I believe that, but it doesn’t make it any easier. I could see it in her eyes when she married him. She wasn’t fully sure. She was still running from the choices she had made, even though she was trying to convince herself she wasn’t.”

Jey nodded, the truth sinking in deeper. The guilt of not being there for Rhea when she needed him was still a heavy burden, but he knew now more than ever that he couldn’t dwell on the past.

“I’ll make sure she never has to feel that way again,” Jey promised, his voice firm.

Rhea’s father studied him for a moment, then gave a slow nod of approval. “I hope you do, Jey. But remember, it’s not just about the promises you make now. It’s about showing her every day that she can trust you, that she can count on you when it matters most.”

Jey’s chest tightened with resolve. “I understand.”

Rhea’s father gave him a nod of approval, then returned his attention to the flowers in front of him. “Good. I can see she’s in good hands. Just don’t break her heart, Jey. I’ve seen her hurt enough.”

Jey stood still for a moment, reflecting on the weight of his words. He knew what he had to do now, not just to make things right with Rhea, but to prove to her family, especially her father, that he was the one she deserved.

—

Later on in the night, Jey was searching for a good birthday gift for Jaciyah when he heard laughter. He put his iPad down and got up, heading down the hallway. He spotted a room door ajar and quietly peered inside. He could hear Damian and Rhea talking, and although he didn’t want to eavesdrop, the soft sound of Rhea’s voice made him stop in his tracks.

“That little thunderstorm you have brewing in your stomach is going to be in style,” Damian said, his voice playful.

Rhea’s laughter echoed through the hallway, and Jey smiled to himself. “You would get my baby a Judas Priest onesie,” she responded, amusement in her tone.

Damian chuckled. “Have you thought at all about who would be the godparents?”

Rhea sighed. “I wanted you and Kayden, but more than likely Jey is going to convince me for Jon and Trinity.”

Damian’s voice grew softer, and Jey’s curiosity deepened. “You have a say in this, you know. It’s not just Jey’s kid, it’s your baby too.”

Rhea’s response was filled with an unspoken sadness, and Jey felt his chest tighten. “I know, but I might as well just do what Jey says. Don’t want to get him angry.”

Damian’s tone became more serious, concerned. “Rhea… mamas’, you have to start caring about yourself.”

Jey stood frozen in place, listening intently, unable to tear himself away. He didn’t know what to say, didn’t know what to do with the thoughts racing through his mind.

Rhea sighed deeply before replying, her voice quieter now. “I know, I know… but it’s not just about me. It’s about Jey and his kids.”

Damian’s response was firm, a steady reassurance in his voice. “They are your kids too, Rhea.”

Jey felt the weight of those words. His kids. He hadn’t realized that Rhea might still feel like an outsider, even now. The thought of her doubting herself hit him harder than he expected.

Rhea’s voice broke through the silence, her vulnerability more apparent now. “I just don’t feel enough anymore. I honestly think my hormones are getting to me… everything makes me feel sad.”

Damian’s voice softened, a comforting presence. “Don’t blame your doubts on your hormones, Rhea. You’re allowed to feel what you’re feeling. But you have to start listening to yourself too. You’ve been so focused on everyone else—maybe it’s time you focused on you for once.”

Jey’s heart ached hearing that. He could feel his own guilt gnawing at him. He truly hadn’t realized how much Rhea was carrying on her own.

Just as he was about to step into the room, he stopped and Damian’s voice grew more distant as Rhea responded.

“I don’t know, Damian. I just… I can’t seem to get it right. It’s like everything is slipping away from me, and I’m just trying to hold on.”

Jey closed his eyes for a moment, pain and concern flooding him. Maybe today was the wake-up call he needed. Maybe he’d been so focused on his own guilt, on his own issues, that he hadn’t truly seen what Rhea was going through. He knew he had to make things right, and that started with understanding her—truly understanding her.

“Thank you for the gift, Damian, honestly,” Rhea said, her voice still carrying the warmth of their earlier conversation.

Jey quickly ducked back into the bedroom, hearing Rhea’s footsteps approach. He scrambled back onto the bed, grabbing his iPad, trying to act casual. He could hear her moving down the hallway, but didn’t know how much time he had before she’d come back.

A few moments later, the door creaked open, and Rhea stepped inside, holding the onesie in her hands. She walked to the dresser and gently laid it down without saying a word. Jey could see her silhouette in the soft light from the hallway, her movements deliberate but quiet.

She didn’t glance his way as she undressed, changing into her pajamas with the practiced ease of someone who had done it a thousand times. Jey watched, his heart aching as he realized just how distant she seemed in that moment. She climbed into bed on her side and immediately reached to turn off the bedside lamp, plunging the room into darkness. The space between them felt suffocating.

Jey set his iPad down, staring at the back of her head as he lay beside her. He reached out tentatively, his hand moving toward her shoulder, hoping to pull her close. But just as his fingers brushed against her, Rhea’s voice cut through the stillness.

“Not tonight.”

Jey froze, his hand hovering in the air. His throat tightened, but he swallowed, trying to fight back the hurt. “I need my button nose back…” he murmured, trying to make light of the situation, hoping she’d soften.

But Rhea didn’t respond with the usual warmth. Instead, she swatted his hand away, her voice cold. “Jey, I’m not in the mood right now at all. Just don’t touch me.”

Jey felt a sharp pang in his chest, the weight of her words settling heavy in his stomach. “Rhea, please,” he pleaded softly, his voice thick with emotion. “I’m trying here. I just… I miss you.”

Rhea didn’t move, her body still facing away from him, the space between them growing. She exhaled deeply, her voice barely above a whisper but laced with something raw. “I don’t have the strength right now, Jey. Just please… leave me alone.”

Jey’s chest tightened, but he couldn’t let it end like this. He needed to hold her, needed her to know how much he loved her, even if she couldn’t feel it right now. He reached out once more, but the distance between them felt so insurmountable. “I love you, Rhea,” he whispered, his voice thick with vulnerability. “I love you so much.”

Rhea’s voice came out sharp, a small quiver of emotion beneath the anger. “I love you too, Jey, but don’t fucking touch me right now.”

Jey pulled his hand back slowly, his heart sinking. He wanted to respect her space, to give her what she needed, but the ache inside of him was unbearable. With a deep sigh, he turned over onto his side, his back to her, and let the silence fill the room.

Both of them were there—physically, at least—but emotionally, they felt a world apart.

—

The next day, Rhea said her final goodbyes to her parents at the airport, hugging them both tightly. “I’ll send pictures of the bump soon,” she promised, her voice thick with emotion. Her mom kissed her forehead, telling her how proud they were, while her dad gave her a final piece of advice to take care of herself.

After parting with her parents, Rhea hugged Damian, wishing him well on his return to RAW. “Take care of yourself, D. I’m proud of you.” Damian smiled, patting her shoulder. “I’ll see you soon, and I’ll be keeping an eye on that baby bump.”

With the goodbyes said, Rhea made her way to the entrance of the airport, ready to head home. She walked out into the crisp air, spotting Jeremiah pulling in with her plum-colored Tahoe. She got into the passenger seat, offering him a tired but grateful smile. “Let’s go to Trader Joe’s,” she said, her mind already thinking of what she needed. Jeremiah nodded and quickly set the address into the GPS, pulling away from the curb.

Meanwhile, back at home, Jeyce and Jaciyah were glued to the PS5, completely absorbed in their game. Jey, on the other hand, was outside, making his way through the greenhouse, carefully tending to the roses. He wasn’t sure why, but he found comfort in the act of nurturing something. Maybe it was because it was something he could control in a time where everything else felt so uncertain.

As he focused on the roses, he heard small footsteps approaching. Turning around, he saw Barry, Rhea’s dog, trotting over to him with his tail wagging. Jey bent down, offering the dog a smile and a pat on the head. “I hope your mom forgives me soon,” he murmured to the dog, his heart heavy with the weight of his unresolved tension with Rhea. Barry let out a soft bark, as if in agreement, and Jey couldn’t help but smile.

Shaking his head, he returned to trimming the roses, when his phone vibrated in his pocket. Pulling it out, he saw a text message from Jon. It read: “Hey, we’ll be flying in on Tuesday. Our plane lands at 9 pm.”

Jey quickly typed back, offering his help: “I’ll pick you guys up at the airport. See you then.” After sending the message, he sighed, wishing he could find a way to make things right with Rhea. But for now, he focused on getting ready for Jon and Trinity’s arrival.

He glanced back at the roses, hoping that one day things would bloom again between him and Rhea.

—

Flashback: August 9, 2018 - 11:57 PM

The air in the hallway was thick with tension as Morris opened the door to the dimly lit room. Inside, the fiery redhead, Valerie, was lounging on a bed, her legs crossed and her attention focused on her phone. She didn’t look up immediately but continued texting as if the world around her didn’t exist.

Morris stepped into the room, his presence commanding attention, and the moment Valerie glanced up, her sharp green eyes locked onto his. “Why do you have so much regard for Black Mamba?” she asked, her voice laced with a mixture of curiosity and something else, something dangerous.

Morris chuckled, a low, dangerous sound, and leaned against the doorframe, his eyes narrowing as he regarded her. “When did you think it was okay to start asking questions?” His tone was casual, but the edge in his voice was unmistakable.

Valerie shrugged nonchalantly, though her eyes flickered with the same intensity she had in her earlier question. “I’m just saying… my sister knows her, and she isn’t all that great in the—”

Before she could finish, Morris moved with lightning speed. He grabbed a fistful of her hair and yanked her head back, pulling her face dangerously close to his. His breath was hot on her skin, and his grip tightened painfully.

“No one speaks about Mamba,” he said through gritted teeth, his voice low and threatening, the weight of his words hanging in the air like an iron chain. “Am I clear?”

Valerie froze for a moment, her eyes wide with the realization of just how serious he was. She swallowed hard, her defiance fading as fear crept into her chest. “Yes, sir,” she whispered, her voice strained but obedient.

Morris held her gaze for a beat longer, then slowly released her hair, stepping back as if nothing had happened. Valerie, still shaken but attempting to maintain her composure, quickly looked away, her phone now forgotten in her hands.

Morris gave a nod, his smirk returning as if nothing had transpired. “Good,” he said, turning to leave the room. “Remember, Valerie… some things are better left unsaid.”

As the door clicked shut behind him, the room was left in silence, the air heavy with unspoken tension.

[sakasakiii]

ohhHHHh brother,,, is this another sketch dump after an undisclosed number of weeks of absence and online inactivity? yessir it sure is but i sure hope it won't stay that way 🤞 apologies again for disappearing, but im on break for the next couple of months for the summer so i have a lot planned and im hoping to catch up with... everything!

i put a little status update under the cut but feel free to skip that cuz its just me explaining some things ive had on my mind hoho 😙😙 happy 1st of june everyone!!!

a lot of things have been happening irl that im still getting used to, but thank you for always being very patient 🙇‍♀️ i apologise for disappearing again after i promised id start being more active again in... januARY??? man oh man the year is passing by tooooo fast holy smokes

i havent had much time to be on social media since then, but ive gotten some email notifs from ppl sending in such kind messages via inbox, and its really made me go AUGHHHHH in the midst of whatever im doing cuz it means the world to me 🥺❤️ if youre someone who's sent in something over the past year since i started hiatus in march 2023, IM REALLY SORRY AGAIN 😭😭 i always try to keep up with my policy of one-art-piece-per-ask, but because of that sometimes i just procrastinate a lot or get stuck on finding relevant things to draw as thanks. ive been brainstorming some ideas, though, and its my goal to get through a hefty sum of em before things get real busy again in a few months 😤

im really sorry again for being so inconsistent this past year, but im gonna do my best! i hope everyone on here's been doing good and im raring to see everything new with silm tumblr ❤️❤️ also if anyone has any recs for any new content pls feed me for i am starvedddd