#first saw this early morning when i was bed cozy.....

[madebysae]

SAE-BYEOK X READER WITH KANG CHEOL PLEASE I NEED THEM

Happy Birthday | K. Saebyeok

♡ pairing: 𝘴𝘢𝘦𝘣𝘺𝘦𝘰𝘬 𝘹 𝘧𝘦𝘮!𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳

♡ genre: 𝘧𝘭𝘶𝘧𝘧

♡ warning(s): 𝘯𝘰𝘯𝘦

♡ summary: 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘴𝘢𝘦𝘣𝘺𝘦𝘰𝘬 𝘩𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘢 𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘺 𝘴𝘱𝘦𝘤𝘪𝘢𝘭 𝘣𝘪𝘳𝘵𝘩𝘥𝘢𝘺 𝘱𝘭𝘢𝘯𝘯𝘦𝘥 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘤𝘩𝘦𝘰𝘭!

♡ word count: 2.5𝘬

♡ a/n: 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘴𝘰 𝘧𝘶𝘯 𝘵𝘰 𝘸𝘳𝘪𝘵𝘦!! 𝘪 𝘭𝘰𝘷𝘦 𝘤𝘩𝘦𝘰𝘭 𝘩𝘦'𝘴 𝘴𝘰 𝘱𝘳𝘦𝘤𝘪𝘰𝘶𝘴

You woke up to the sound of Saebyeok breathing softly beside you, her face peaceful in the rays of the early morning sun. Her dark lashes rested against her cheeks, and a strand of hair fell across her face. You reached out, tucking it back gently, fingers brushing against her freckled skin.

Very careful not to wake her up, you tip-toed out of bed and went outside. The salty breeze from the ocean greeted you warmly as you put on your sandals and stepped onto the sand, the horizon glowing with the first hints of sunrise.

You didn’t have to wait long before you heard the familiar sound of the door sliding open behind you. Turning around, your hair getting slightly blown by the wind, you saw Saebyeok approaching. Her jacket was messily slung over her shoulders and her hair was still slightly ruffled. She gave you a faint smile .

“Ready?” she asked, her voice still rough from just waking up a few minutes ago. You nodded, and together you started your walk down the beach. The gentle sound of the waves made you grin, and linked your pinky with Saebyeok’s.

Her other hand was tucked into the pocket of her jacket. Unlike you, she wasn’t really a morning person, but she would never miss these morning walks with you. You glanced over at her and couldn’t help but smile. She caught you staring and raised an eyebrow.

“What?” she asked, sounding indifferent, though the corner of her mouth twitched into a tiny hint of a smirk.

“Nothing,” you replied, grinning cheekily. “Just admiring the view.”

“The ocean is right there.” she deadpanned, but her eyes softened as she couldn’t help but smile and tousle your hair.

The two of you walked in comfortable silence, the only sounds being the waves and the quiet, distant cry of seagulls. Soon, you reached the spot where you usually stopped for a bit before heading back - a large, smooth rock just far enough from the waves that it wouldn’t get wet, but close enough for it to still give you an amazing view. Saebyeok sat down, her gaze fixed on the ocean. You joined her, resting your head on her shoulder.

“Do you think he’ll like it?” you asked, referring to the plans the two of you had made for Cheol’s birthday.

Saebyeok nodded. “He will. Don’t worry.”

You both returned to the house to find Mrs. Kang already awake and cooking up breakfast in the kitchen.

“Oh, good morning sweethearts! I already put some rice on the stove, it shouldn’t take too long,” she gestured toward the fridge, “Saebyeok, dear, why don’t you plate some side dishes, and Y/N, you can start with the pancakes?”

Saebyeok immediately grabbed the pancake batter from your hands and gently pushed you toward the fridge, “I’ll do the pancakes. I don’t want you to burn yourself.”

She had mumbled the last part, but you and Mrs. Kang still heard her anyway.

“Ahhh, our Saebyeok is so protective,” Mrs. Kang smiled warmly, tying her apron tighter before starting to make the seaweed soup. Together, the three of you worked in the cozy kitchen. Once Saebyeok was done cooking the pancakes, you all helped with plating them with syrup and fresh fruit.

When everything was ready, you loaded the tray, adding a glass of milk on the side. Saebyeok carried the tray upstairs, and you and Mrs. Kang followed with a small smile.

When you entered Cheol’s room, his eyes fluttered open at the sound of the door creaking. His expression morphed from tired confusion to pure delight as he saw the breakfast tray.

“Happy birthday, Cheol!” you all chimed together, setting the tray on his lap.

His face lit up. “Woah! You guys made all this?”

“Well, I helped the most,” you teased, dodging Saebyeok’s playful glare.

“Don’t lie,” she retorted, smiling.

Mrs. Kang sat on the edge of the bed as Cheol took his first bite of pancake. “Eat up, our birthday boy!” she said, brushing his hair back affectionately.

After he finished his breakfast, all four of you headed outside for a quick game of beach volleyball. The net Saebyeok had bought a few years ago fluttered in the breeze, and the sun was warm but not too harsh. Cheol was the first to grab the ball.

“You’re going down, noona!” he shouted, pointing at Saebyeok as if they were mortal enemies.

“That’s some big talk for someone who’s not even tall enough to spike,” Saebyeok shot back playfully, walking to the other side of the net.

You ended up on Cheol’s team, mostly because he insisted that you and Saebyeok were both too good to be on the same team. Despite her teasing, Saebyeok couldn’t hide her proud smile every time Cheol managed to land a good hit.

By the time the game ended, the score didn’t matter—Cheol declared himself the winner regardless, making everyone laugh.

Mrs. Kang checked her watch and let out a small sigh. “I better get to work, Cheol-ah,” she said gently, crouching down to his eye level.

His face fell slightly, but she quickly placed a kiss on his forehead. “Don’t be too upset. I have a present for you, but you’ll have to wait until later, okay?”

He nodded, trying to hide his disappointment. “Okay…”

She smiled, brushing some sand off his shirt before straightening up. “Be good for your noona and Y/N. I’ll be back before you know it!”

You and Saebyeok both waved as she walked toward the car. Cheol turned to you with an eager grin.

“What’s next?” he asked, his unlimited energy kicking in again.

You exchanged a look with Saebyeok and smiled.

“Let’s find out,” you said, ruffling Cheol’s hair before heading back toward the house so you could all get changed for the rest of the day.

The trampoline park was colorful and full of laughter, with kids bouncing and flipping around everywhere. Cheol couldn’t contain his excitement as he grabbed your hand, pulling you and Saebyeok toward the trampolines.

“Noona, look at this!” he called out, bouncing high before landing in a foam pit with a loud shriek. You couldn’t help but laugh, his joy infectious.

Saebyeok stayed seated on the benches at first, watching with a small smile as you and Cheol raced each other from one trampoline to the next. But it wasn’t long before Cheol managed to convince her to join you guys.

By the time you left the park, all three of you were flushed bright red and out of breath from laughing, your energy absolutely spent.

Lunch was just as enjoyable. Cheol picked a small, cozy restaurant that served his favorite crispy fried chicken and spicy tteokbokki. He ate eagerly, cheeks puffed as he tried to talk with his mouth full.

“Swallow first,” Saebyeok chided gently. She handed him a napkin, her expression softening as she watched him enjoy the meal. You couldn’t help but admire how naturally this role of “older sister” came to her.

After lunch, dessert was an easy choice. The three of you stopped at an ice cream shop a few blocks away, the display case packed with all kinds of flavors. Cheol pressed his face against the glass, trying to decide between birthday cake and cookie dough. In the end, he chose both, happily licking his double scoop while you and Saebyeok shared a scoop of chocolate matcha.

Next up was boba, which Cheol had been begging you guys to get him for the past month. He picked a mango one with extra popping pearls, his excitement bubbling over as he took his first sip. Saebyeok laughed at his wide eyes, “I take it you like it?”

Cheol nodded enthusiastically, “It’s the best thing I ever tasted!!”

With full bellies and happy hearts, you all rented bikes for a ride through the park. The path curved through beautiful trees and along a sparkling river, the late afternoon sun casting shadows on the ground. Cheol pedaled ahead, laughing as he swerved back and forth. You and Saebyeok rode steadily next to each other, a bit behind Cheol but close enough to keep a watchful eye on him.

“He’s having a good day,” you said, glancing over at her.

“He is,” she agreed, a small smile gracing her lips.

By the time you got back to the house, the sun was just beginning to set. Cheol threw off his shoes and sprinted to his room, changing to his swimsuit in record time. He ran to the waves and you followed close behind, laughing as he initiated a game of splash tag. Saebyeok settled herself on a beach towel with a book in hand. Occasionally, she’d glance up and a smile would creep onto her face as she watched you play with Cheol.

“Come on, Sae!” you called out, waving at her to join you. She shook her head, holding up her book as if to say she was perfectly fine on the dry sand. You rolled your eyes but smiled brightly at her, trying very, very hard not to stare at her perfectly toned body accentuated by the two-piece she had on.

After you and Cheol had finished playing in the water and dried off, the three of you started a game of tag. Cheol was still full of energy, running around the sand while you and Saebyeok took turns chasing him. You couldn’t stop laughing when Saebyeok, who had said she didn’t care about winning, suddenly sprinted after Cheol and tagged him with a triumphant smirk.

As the sun began to sink lower behind the waves on the horizon, Mrs. Kang arrived home, stepping out of the car with a warm smile. Cheol spotted her right away and ran over, shouting, “Mom! You’re back!”

Mrs. Kang knelt down to hug him tightly. “I told you I’d be back before you knew it,” she said, brushing sand off his hair.

“Wanna play tag with us?” Cheol asked, his grin bright and hopeful.

“Just for a little bit,” she agreed. “But don’t think I’ll go easy on you!”

Cheol squealed when she tagged him with a light poke on his shoulder. After a few rounds, Mrs. Kang held up her hands, laughing as she caught her breath. “Okay, I think that’s enough running for me for the day.”

Cheol pouted but quickly brightened when she said, “I need to start dinner. I’m making your favorite, so I hope you’re hungry!”

The three of you followed her back to the house, and took turns showering while Mrs. Kang prepared dinner.

At the table, a delicious meal was waiting—perfectly cooked samgyeopsal, lettuce to wrap it in, a side of kimchi, and rice.

Cheol gasped, his eyes wide as he grabbed his chopsticks, “This is my favorite!!”

“You’ve outdone yourself, Mrs. Kang. Thank you,” you said with a smile as you scooped some rice onto your plate.

“You’re part of this family, Y/N. Call me mom,” she said warmly as she offered you kimchi.

Dinner was full of laughter. Cheol excitedly told Mrs. Kang about all his favorite parts of the day—from the trampoline park to the giant ice cream cone he finished and your bike ride in the park.

“Noona and Y/N were biking so slow!” Cheol teased, waving his chopsticks around as he talked. “I was, like, a hundred miles in front of them!”

Saebyeok chuckled and nodded, and you agreed solemnly, “Yep, he’s telling the truth! Honestly, he should be a professional bike racer.”

By the time all the food was gone, everyone was stuffed, sitting back in their chairs with satisfied smiles.

Mrs. Kang reached over to ruffle Cheol’s hair. “Did you have a good birthday, Cheol-ah?”

“The best ever!” he said, his smile lighting up the room. He looked around at all of you. “Thanks guys!”

As the last rays of the sun finally began to disappear, you all gathered on the back porch to give Cheol his gifts.

Mrs. Kang went first, holding out an orange wrapped box with a patterned bow. “I hope you like it!”

Cheol ripped the wrapping paper off quickly, revealing a new backpack. His eyes widened. “Mom! This is perfect!” he said, running his fingers over the sewn-in designs and extra pockets. “It’s the one all the cool kids at my school have! Thank you!”

Mrs. Kang smiled warmly and gently brushed a strand of hair from his face. “You’re welcome.”

Next, you held out your gift for him. He peeled back the paper and gasped as he held up a new pair of shoes, “Y/N! These are the exact ones I wanted!”

You laughed, “I’m glad you like them. You outgrew your old ones, so I figured you could use a new pair.”

Cheol slipped the sneakers onto his feet right away, wiggling his toes in excitement. “They fit perfectly!”

Finally, Saebyeok handed over her gift, a small box wrapped in plain brown paper. “Here,” she said, her tone casual, though there was an obvious fondness in her voice.

Cheol peeled back the paper, opening the box to reveal a brand-new Nintendo switch. For a few seconds he was rendered speechless. Then, he squealed in delight, “No way! This is the best gift ever! Thank you Noona! I love you!”

She gave him a tight hug, “Love you too, Cheol. Just don’t stay up too late playing it, alright?”

He nodded solemnly and hugged the console to his chest, looking at all of you with pure happiness in his eyes. “You guys are the best. This was the bestestest birthday ever!”

Mrs. Kang, Saebyeok, and you all exchanged warm smiles.

After tucking Cheol into bed, you and Saebyeok retreated to your shared room. She lay beside you, her arm draped casually over your waist as you giggled at nothing in particular.

“You’re ridiculous,” she muttered, but her lips were curved into a small smile.

“You love it,” you teased.

“Hmm.” Her noncommittal response made you laugh, and you leaned in, pressing a chaste kiss to her cheek. The kiss quickly turned into another, then another, her lips capturing yours with growing intensity. Her hand slid to your waist, pulling you closer as your heart raced.

A sudden knock at the door made you both freeze.

“Noona?” a timid voice called out. “I had a nightmare. Can I sleep with you?”

You glanced at Saebyeok, whose expression had shifted to one of resigned annoyance. “No,” she started, but you cut her off.

“Yes, of course, Cheol,” you called back, giving Saebyeok a pointed look.

“It’s his birthday,” you whispered to her as the door creaked open, “Just this once.”

She sighed but didn’t argue, moving over to make room for her little brother. Cheol climbed into bed, snuggling between the two of you. As he drifted off to sleep in his older sister’s arms, you caught Saebyeok’s gaze over his head. She rolled her eyes but leaned over to press a soft kiss to your forehead.

“You’re too soft,” she murmured.

“You love it,” you whispered back, grinning.

You all fell asleep with content smiles on your faces. This was home.

[fairymint]

Felix gets kissed on the forehead.

There's a small squeak of affection that slipped out before he could self-censor; his hair still soft and fluffy from having just been washed last night. A shy 'grooming' rub of his own cheek...

[dreamersworldduh]

HIS HOME

• CLARK KENT x MALE!READER

SUMMARY — To the world, Clark Kent is Superman—the invincible hero, Earth’s mightiest protector, and a symbol of hope and strength. He’s the one who soars through the skies, battles formidable enemies, and saves countless lives without a second thought. But to you, he’s simply Clark—the shy, kind-hearted farm boy from Smallville you’ve loved since high school.

WARNING! FLUFF. Suggestive Langauge.

WORDS! 10k

AUTHOR’S NOTE! - Here's a little fluff for my favorite farm boy, I recently watched the Superman teaser and got a little inspired.

The early morning sun began its slow, graceful ascent over the towering skyline of Metropolis, sending soft, golden rays spilling through the sheer, cream-colored curtains of Clark Kent’s cozy apartment. The delicate fabric diffused the light, casting a warm, ethereal glow across the room. The gentle illumination danced over the simple but thoughtfully chosen furnishings: a well-loved leather armchair tucked into the corner, a sturdy wooden bookshelf overflowing with novels and framed photos, and a vintage record player resting on a low cabinet—small tokens of a life built together.

Beneath a thick, plush comforter in the center of the room’s focal point—a spacious, inviting bed—Clark and his longtime boyfriend, Y/N, lay entwined in peaceful slumber. Their breaths rose and fell in a quiet, harmonious rhythm, filling the serene space with a sense of intimacy only shared by two souls deeply connected. The soft weight of the comforter enveloped them, shielding them from the crisp morning air that lingered just beyond the windowpane.

Though Y/N remained fast asleep, his chest rising and falling in a steady, calming rhythm, Clark was already awake. His piercing blue eyes, usually sharp with focus and responsibility, now gleamed with tenderness as he quietly admired the man sleeping beside him. For a few precious moments, the weight of the world slipped away—no urgent headlines to chase, no distant cries for help demanding Superman’s strength—just the quiet stillness of their shared sanctuary.

Clark’s gaze lingered, tracing every familiar line and curve of Y/N’s face. His fingertips, rough from years of fighting battles no one else could, hovered just above Y/N’s skin, hesitant to disturb the peaceful spell. He followed the delicate slope of his jaw, the curve of his lips—soft and slightly upturned, as though he were dreaming of something sweet—and the dark, feathery lashes that rested gently against his cheeks. How many times had he memorized these details? How many mornings like this had he silently counted himself lucky?

Here, in this stolen moment before the world woke up, Clark was simply Clark—the man who had fallen in love with his best friend back in high school and never stopped. His heart swelled with the same overwhelming emotion he felt every time he realized he got to spend another day with the person who grounded him, made him laugh, and saw past the cape to the man beneath.

As the sun’s rays grew bolder, stretching farther into the room, the stillness was broken by the sudden, jarring beep of the alarm clock on the bedside table. Its sharp sound shattered the tranquility like glass meeting stone.

“Morning,” Clark whispered, his deep voice warm and soothing, rich with a love that couldn’t be contained. His hand gently brushed a stray lock of hair from Y/N’s forehead, his touch as tender as the sunlight now spilling across the bed.

Y/N blinked slowly, his eyelashes fluttering. He shifted slightly beneath the thick, plush comforter, its weight a soothing barrier against the crisp morning air. He could feel the solid, steady warmth radiating from Clark’s body beside him, grounding him before he even opened his eyes fully. His fingers twitched reflexively, seeking out the comforting presence he knew was there.

When Y/N’s half-lidded gaze finally focused, the first thing he saw was Clark, lying on his side, already awake. His piercing blue eyes gleamed softly, filled with a quiet intensity that made Y/N’s heart ache in the best possible way. Clark’s expression was open, vulnerable, and utterly disarming—like he was seeing something precious he still couldn’t quite believe was real, even after all these years.

A sleepy, instinctive smile tugged at the corners of Y/N’s lips. He stretched slowly, luxuriating in the warmth of the bed and the quiet stillness that lingered in the room, allowing the peaceful moment to settle over him like a familiar melody. His fingers reached up lazily, brushing away a stray lock of hair from his face before his hand drifted down to rest gently on Clark’s chest.

The steady, reassuring thrum of Clark’s heartbeat pulsed beneath Y/N’s fingertips, calm and unwavering, like the rhythm of the earth itself. He let out a contented sigh, his body relaxing further as he nestled closer, resting his head against Clark’s broad shoulder. The fabric of Clark’s soft, well-worn T-shirt felt cool against his cheek, contrasting with the warmth radiating from his skin.

“Good morning,” Y/N murmured, his voice rough with sleep but laced with tenderness. His words were barely above a whisper, soft and warm like the first light of dawn filtering through the window. His hand idly traced slow, lazy patterns across Clark’s chest—small, unconscious shapes made in quiet affection.

Clark smiled, his hand moving with gentle certainty to rest on Y/N’s lower back, his fingertips drawing soothing circles through the thin fabric of his sleep shirt. His touch was familiar yet reverent, a silent promise etched into every small caress.

Y/N’s eyes flickered toward the faint glow spilling through the window, signaling the start of another day. The world outside slowly stirred to life, but inside their shared haven, time seemed suspended—just the two of them in a bubble of warmth and love that felt untouched by the outside world.

“What time is it?” Y/N asked softly, his voice still tinged with sleep and curiosity, though there was no urgency behind the question. His fingers continued their gentle, aimless tracing, not yet ready to break the fragile stillness of the moment.

With a reluctant glance, Clark shifted his eyes toward the worn alarm clock on the nightstand. Its glowing red numbers silently ticked forward, marking the steady march of time. A soft chuckle escaped his lips as he registered the hour. “It’s 7:15,” he murmured, his voice low and soothing, like a quiet breeze through the still room.

Y/N groaned playfully at the answer, dragging one hand down his face in mock exasperation before propping himself up on one elbow. His hair was delightfully tousled, a few stubborn strands falling across his forehead despite his half-hearted attempt to smooth them down. “We really need to get up,” he said, though the lack of conviction in his voice betrayed him. His fingers brushed lightly against Clark’s arm, lingering there as though reluctant to break the warmth of their embrace.

Before Y/N could move any further, Clark’s strong arms tightened around his waist with effortless ease, pulling him back down into the secure circle of his embrace. His hold was firm yet tender, a perfect blend of strength and comfort, silently promising that he wasn’t ready to let Y/N go just yet.

“Not yet,” Clark whispered, his voice soft but resolute, filled with quiet intensity. His piercing blue eyes met Y/N’s with such tenderness that it made Y/N’s breath hitch for a moment. There was something profound in that gaze, something unspoken yet unmistakably clear—love, deep and unyielding.

Y/N raised an eyebrow, his lips quirking upward in mild amusement despite the way his heart seemed to swell in his chest. “Clark, we really should—”

“Do you know what today is?” Clark interrupted gently, his tone playful but tinged with something deeper—something meaningful. A small, knowing smile tugged at the corners of his lips, his expression equal parts teasing and expectant.

Y/N blinked, momentarily thrown by the sudden change in conversation, before a quiet laugh bubbled up from his chest. He let his forehead rest gently against Clark’s for a moment, savoring the warmth of their closeness, before pulling back just far enough to meet his eyes again.

“Of course I know,” Y/N replied softly, his voice steady but colored with affection. “It’s our anniversary.”

Clark’s smile widened, his eyes shimmering with something unmistakably radiant, though there was still a spark of playfulness there. He shook his head slightly, brushing his thumb tenderly over Y/N’s cheek, letting his fingers trail gently down to his jawline. His touch was reverent, as if the moment itself were fragile and precious.

“Not just any anniversary,” Clark corrected, his voice dipping lower, resonant with emotion. “It’s our ten-year anniversary.” His expression shifted into something more serious, almost reverent, as though the weight of a decade spent together was something sacred—something he still couldn’t quite believe he was lucky enough to have.

Y/N’s eyes widened briefly, a flicker of surprise softening into something far deeper, warmer. His lips parted as if to respond, but instead, he simply cupped Clark’s face with both hands, his thumbs tracing gentle, familiar lines along his jaw. His touch was slow, deliberate—a silent answer filled with love and devotion.

“Ten years,” Y/N echoed, letting the words hang between them like a whispered vow. His voice was quiet but steady, thick with emotion. “I can’t believe it’s been that long.”

Clark’s expression softened further, his smile turning just a little more playful as he leaned forward, pressing a lingering, feather-light kiss to Y/N’s forehead. His lips lingered there, warm and reassuring, before pulling back just enough to meet Y/N’s gaze again.

“And I’m not letting you out of this bed until we properly celebrate…” Clark whispered, his voice low and teasing but laced with unmistakable sincerity. His arms tightened just a fraction, drawing Y/N even closer. “…Starting right now.”

Y/N laughed softly, his eyes sparkling with both affection and amusement. “Is that so?” he asked, his voice light but affectionate, fingers still tracing slow, loving patterns across Clark’s chest.

Clark only smiled, leaning in to press another kiss—this time soft and lingering—against Y/N’s lips, sealing the promise between them with quiet certainty.

Y/N pulled away, letting out a soft breathy laugh, his lips curving into a playful smirk as he rested his hand gently on Clark’s chest. Beneath his fingertips, he could feel the steady, familiar rhythm of Clark’s heartbeat—strong, unyielding, and comforting in a way that felt like home. His fingers absently traced small, lazy circles over the fabric of Clark’s worn T-shirt, savoring the warmth radiating from his skin.

His eyes sparkled with affection, though there was a teasing edge in his voice as he arched an eyebrow. “Clark,” he murmured, his tone light but laced with mock sternness, “if we celebrate right now, neither one of us is going to make it to work on time.”

Clark chuckled, his deep, resonant laugh filling the room like a warm embrace. It was the kind of laugh that made Y/N’s heart swell, as familiar and comforting as the dawn’s first light. His smile widened into that boyish, slightly mischievous grin Y/N had fallen in love with all those years ago—a grin that still made his knees weak even after a decade together.

“You make a compelling point,” Clark admitted with mock seriousness, though the mischievous glint in his eyes betrayed him. His gaze softened as he took in every beloved detail of Y/N’s face—the curve of his cheek, the sparkle in his eyes, the way his lips quirked in that teasing smile that always left Clark feeling utterly captivated.

Before Y/N could fire back with a witty retort, Clark moved with effortless grace, gently shifting his weight as he rolled over, pinning Y/N beneath him in one fluid motion. His strong arms braced on either side of Y/N’s head, caging him in—but his touch was tender, protective, filled with nothing but love. Y/N gasped softly in surprise, though his eyes gleamed with amusement and affection.

Clark leaned down until their faces were mere inches apart, his breath warm against Y/N’s skin. His gaze never wavered, tracing every familiar feature with reverence, as though memorizing them all over again.

“I guess I could try to be responsible…” Clark whispered, his voice dropping into that low, velvety tone that always sent a shiver down Y/N’s spine, “…but where’s the fun in that?”

Before Y/N could respond—or even fully process the words—Clark dipped his head and captured his lips in a slow, lingering kiss. His mouth moved with unhurried purpose, savoring the connection as though time itself had ceased to matter. The kiss was deep but tender, filled with emotion that words could never quite capture.

Y/N’s breath hitched as Clark’s warm lips trailed away from his, leaving a path of feather-light kisses along his jawline. Clark’s mouth lingered just below Y/N’s ear—his most sensitive spot—his breath sending pleasant tingles down his spine. His lips brushed gently against Y/N’s neck, pressing soft, deliberate kisses that ignited a warmth deep within him.

A quiet, breathless laugh escaped Y/N’s lips as he arched into Clark’s touch, threading his fingers through Clark’s thick, dark hair. He tugged gently, earning a soft, pleased hum from Clark that resonated against his skin. “You’re impossible,” Y/N whispered, though his voice trembled with love, his words holding no real bite.

Clark pulled back just enough to meet Y/N’s gaze, his expression soft but still tinged with playful defiance. His piercing blue eyes sparkled with warmth, love, and something far deeper—something timeless. “Ten years,” he murmured, brushing his thumb gently across Y/N’s cheek, his touch reverent and tender. “I think we’ve earned a little celebration… even if we’re a bit late.”

Y/N laughed again, shaking his head in mock exasperation, though he made no effort to move away—he never could when Clark held him like this, when he looked at him like he was the most precious thing in the world. His heart swelled with overwhelming affection, threatening to burst from the sheer intensity of it all.

“You’re lucky I love you,” Y/N whispered softly, his voice thick with emotion as he tugged Clark down into another kiss—slow, deep, and full of all the love and devotion he couldn’t put into words.

Clark’s grin widened against Y/N’s lips, his expression radiating pure joy. “I know,” he whispered playfully, echoing the familiar words that had been exchanged between them countless times—but now, they held a deeper, more profound meaning.

In that moment, nothing else existed—no alarms, no deadlines, no responsibilities. Just the quiet, steady rhythm of their shared breath, the warmth of their intertwined bodies, and a love that had endured a decade and promised to last a lifetime.

By 8:15 a.m., the quiet intimacy of the early morning had dissolved into the familiar rhythm of Clark and Y/N’s weekday routine. The warmth of their shared bed now felt like a distant memory as they moved through their cozy apartment with practiced ease, the comfortable chaos of a typical workday morning unfolding around them.

The scent of freshly brewed coffee filled the air, mingling with the crisp aroma of toasted bread and the faint trace of Clark’s cologne lingering in the hallway. The kitchen was alive with quiet energy—drawers opening, shoes being slipped on, phones buzzing with notifications. The distant hum of Metropolis traffic outside was a constant, blending into the comforting sounds of home.

Clark stood at the kitchen counter, his sleeves rolled up to his elbows, tie still undone around his neck. He poured steaming coffee into two familiar mugs—one emblazoned with the bold “Daily Planet” logo, and the other featuring a playful “World’s Best Partner” design, a sentimental gift from Y/N on their fifth anniversary. His hands moved with practiced efficiency, steady and sure, as though even the smallest tasks carried a quiet significance in their shared life.

“Babe, have you seen my laptop charger?” Y/N’s voice called from the bedroom, tinged with mild urgency. His words were punctuated by the sound of drawers sliding open and the soft rustle of clothes being shifted around.

Clark couldn’t help but chuckle, shaking his head fondly as he set the coffee mugs on the kitchen table. “Check the shelf by the desk!” he called back, his voice warm and familiar. In one smooth motion, he looped his tie into a perfect Windsor knot, fingers moving with expert precision—years of balancing superhero duties and tight Daily Planet deadlines had honed his multitasking skills to near perfection.

Moments later, Y/N emerged from the bedroom, holding his laptop charger triumphantly like a prize. His collar was only half-buttoned, his sleeves still unrolled, but he already looked every bit the driven professional Clark had admired from the moment they’d worked side by side as young interns. His hair was slightly tousled, still settling after a rushed comb-through, making him impossibly endearing.

“Found it!” Y/N announced with mock triumph, flashing Clark a cheeky grin as he hurried toward the kitchen. He grabbed his “World’s Best Partner” mug from the table and took a long, appreciative sip, savoring the warmth that seeped into his fingertips. A contented sigh escaped his lips. “You’re a lifesaver,” he said with sincere gratitude, the corners of his eyes crinkling with affection.

Clark smirked, leaning casually against the counter, arms folded across his chest. “I try,” he teased lightly, though his gaze softened as he watched Y/N sip his coffee, soaking in the familiar comfort of their shared morning ritual. It was in these small, ordinary moments that Clark felt the fullness of their life together—steady, warm, real.

Y/N gave a quick glance at the microwave clock—8:17 a.m. They were cutting it close but still technically on time if they hustled. He grabbed his well-worn messenger bag from the back of a kitchen chair and slung it over his shoulder with practiced ease. “Let’s roll,” he said with determined resolve, already mentally running through the day’s to-do list.

Just as Y/N reached for the door, Clark’s fingers gently brushed against his wrist, halting him with a soft touch. “Hey,” Clark murmured, his voice lower now, edged with something deeper.

Y/N turned, brow raised in curious question. His expression softened as he met Clark’s gaze, recognizing the quiet emotion shimmering in those piercing blue eyes.

Clark’s smile shifted into something far more tender, his earlier playfulness replaced by sincerity. “Happy ten-year anniversary,” he whispered, his voice rich with meaning, as though he still couldn’t quite believe how lucky he was to be standing there, sharing this life with the person he loved.

Y/N’s expression melted instantly, the rush of the morning forgotten. He leaned in, cradling Clark’s face gently in his hands, pressing a soft, lingering kiss to his lips. The world outside seemed to pause, leaving only the warmth of their shared breath and the quiet rhythm of their hearts beating in sync.

“Happy anniversary,” Y/N whispered back, his tone filled with unwavering love. His fingers lingered against Clark’s jaw for just a moment longer, as though reluctant to let the moment end.

With one last shared smile—intimate, knowing—they turned toward the door, ready to face whatever challenges the bustling city had in store. Whatever the day might bring, they would face it together—just as they always had, and always would.

Clark stepped through the revolving doors of the bustling Daily Planet building, adjusting his signature glasses out of habit as he took in the familiar symphony of the newsroom’s organized chaos. The air buzzed with the electric energy of a new workday—phones ringing, keyboards clacking, and conversations overlapping as reporters exchanged leads and debated headlines. The faint scent of fresh ink and brewed coffee lingered in the air, a constant reminder of the newsroom’s relentless pace.

A small, contented smile tugged at Clark’s lips as he strode across the polished marble floor, his polished shoes clicking softly against the tile. He felt right at home here, even after years of balancing the double life of award-winning journalist and Earth’s greatest protector. Still, even amid the familiar hustle, his mind lingered on the peaceful morning he’d shared with Y/N—the warmth of their shared coffee, the lingering kiss at the door, the whispered “Happy anniversary” that still echoed softly in his heart.

He was halfway to his desk when he found his path blocked—ambushed, really—by two familiar figures: Lois Lane and Jimmy Olsen, his closest friends and trusted partners in journalistic crime. Lois stood with her arms crossed, eyebrows raised in playful expectation, while Jimmy hovered just behind her, his ever-present camera slung over his shoulder like he was ready to document something groundbreaking.

“Alright, Kent,” Lois announced with a sly smirk, tilting her head in that knowing way she always did when she was on the verge of uncovering something. “What’s the plan?”

Clark blinked, momentarily thrown off by her question. He adjusted his glasses again, a reflex whenever he felt caught off guard. “Plan? What plan?” he asked, brow furrowing in genuine confusion.

Jimmy let out an exaggerated scoff, stepping forward with wide-eyed disbelief. “The plan, Clark!” he urged dramatically. “Don’t tell me you forgot! It’s your ten-year anniversary with Y/N today!”

Clark’s eyes widened ever so slightly, though he quickly schooled his expression into one of practiced calm. “Wait—how do you two know about that?” he asked, his voice tinged with mild suspicion but tempered by curiosity.

Lois rolled her eyes, her smirk widening. “Please,” she said with mock disdain. “I’m a journalist, Clark. It’s literally my job to know things.”

Jimmy nodded enthusiastically, practically bouncing on the balls of his feet. “And I’m, like, super observant. You’ve had that goofy, ‘I’m-so-in-love’ look plastered all over your face for days.” He gestured dramatically around the newsroom. “It’s practically headline news at this point.”

Clark couldn’t help but chuckle despite himself, shaking his head. “You two are unbelievable.”

Lois stepped closer, her sharp eyes softening just a fraction, though the spark of mischief never left. “Seriously, though,” she said with a bit more warmth, “you do have something special planned, right? Ten years isn’t just any anniversary.”

For a brief moment, Clark’s mind drifted to the small velvet box tucked securely in the inner pocket of his coat—the one he’d been carefully keeping out of sight all morning. The memory of its weight was reassuring, grounding him in the quiet certainty of what the evening would bring.

“Let’s just say…” Clark began slowly, his lips curving into a knowing smile, “…I might have a few surprises up my sleeve.”

Jimmy let out a dramatic gasp, clearly intrigued, while Lois arched an approving eyebrow. “Now this is a story I’m dying to see unfold,” she quipped, already imagining the possibilities.

Clark chuckled, brushing past them toward his desk. “You’ll just have to wait and see,” he called over his shoulder. “No spoilers… even for journalists.”

Lois smirked knowingly while Jimmy fist-pumped in silent excitement, already speculating wildly about what Clark’s “surprise” might be. The newsroom’s steady hum continued around them, deadlines and breaking news still demanding attention—but for a brief moment, Clark allowed himself to savor the quiet anticipation bubbling within him.

Tonight would be more than just a milestone—it would be the start of something even greater. He couldn’t wait to see the look on Y/N’s face when he finally revealed what he’d been planning for weeks… and slipped that ring onto his finger.

The day carried on as usual—but for Clark, the countdown to that perfect, long-awaited moment had already begun.

The streets of Metropolis teemed with life far below as Superman soared effortlessly through the crisp morning sky, his iconic red cape billowing behind him like a banner of hope. The sharp edges of the city’s glass-and-steel skyline glinted in the morning sun, casting streaks of light across the bustling streets below. His keen eyes swept across the familiar cityscape, ever watchful, always ready.

The city pulsed with its usual symphony—honking car horns, hurried conversations, the rhythmic clang of construction equipment, and the distant chatter of morning radio shows drifting from open windows. The steady thrum of Metropolis’ indomitable spirit surrounded him, grounding him even as he hovered hundreds of feet above. To anyone else, it might have been overwhelming—chaotic—but to Clark, it was the heartbeat of home.

He had just finished assisting the Metropolis Fire Department with a hazardous warehouse fire down by the docks. The acrid scent of smoke still clung faintly to his uniform, though the crisis was long resolved. He allowed himself a rare moment of pause, suspended in the sky, arms crossed, his cape trailing like a protective shield over the city he’d sworn to protect.

Then something familiar tugged at his senses.

Cutting through the tangled web of urban noise, a voice—distinct, beloved—filtered clearly into his super-sensitive hearing.

Y/N’s voice.

Clark’s breath hitched as he stilled mid-air, hanging weightless against the wind. His sharp focus zeroed in instantly, his hearing filtering out the static of the city until only that familiar voice remained. His heart clenched with longing and quiet relief.

He traced the sound to the upper floors of a gleaming high-rise in the heart of downtown—the unmistakable, foreboding silhouette of LexCorp Tower, its sharp edges and mirrored surface reflecting the cold morning light. The sight alone made his jaw tighten, tension rippling through his frame. No matter how many years passed, Lex Luthor’s presence in Metropolis remained a constant thorn in his side.

But then Y/N spoke again, and Clark’s protective instincts flared.

“Yes, Mr. Luthor… I’ll have that report on your desk by noon,” Y/N said, his voice steady and professional, though Clark detected the faintest trace of exhaustion beneath his practiced tone. “I’ve already confirmed the logistics team’s data… Yes, sir, I’m double-checking it now.”

Clark exhaled a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding, his shoulders relaxing just slightly. He could see Y/N in his mind’s eye—sitting at his immaculately organized desk, surrounded by gleaming tech and cool, polished steel decor, the harsh blue glow of holographic displays casting soft light over his face. His back would be straight, his sharp, tailored blazer fitting perfectly across his shoulders—a detail Y/N always insisted was necessary to “look the part.”

Clark’s chest warmed with quiet pride. Despite his unease about LexCorp—a company built on moral ambiguity and dangerous ambition—he knew Y/N. Driven, capable, relentless in his pursuit of success, yet unfailingly kind. He trusted Y/N implicitly.

Lex Luthor, on the other hand…

Clark frowned, his protective instincts prickling. Even now, he couldn’t entirely banish the concern that came with knowing Y/N worked within arm’s reach of one of the world’s most dangerous men. He strained to listen for anything out of place—any shift in Y/N’s voice, any hint of tension—but all he heard was focused professionalism.

Then, suddenly, Y/N’s voice softened—barely above a murmur—as though he believed himself to be completely alone. His tone turned warmer, more personal.

“…And maybe after work, I can figure out how to surprise you for once, Clark…”

Clark’s breath caught.

There was the faint rustling of papers, followed by a quiet, almost wistful chuckle that tugged at his heart.

“Ten years… Can you believe it?” Y/N whispered, almost as though speaking only to himself.

Clark’s expression melted into something achingly tender, a quiet warmth blooming in his chest that even the cold steel of LexCorp couldn’t diminish. For just a moment, he allowed himself this stolen glimpse into Y/N’s day—a reminder of the life they’d built together, of love that had endured through battles, secrets, and the challenges of his double life.

He hovered there, suspended in the stillness of the morning sky, wrapped in the memory of Y/N’s voice and the unspoken promise threaded through those words.

Then, from several blocks away, a sudden wail of police sirens split the air, snapping him back to reality. His gaze hardened instantly, his senses shifting back into sharp focus. The city needed him again.

But before he shot off into the wind, he cast one final, lingering glance toward the gleaming spire of LexCorp Tower, his voice a whispered promise meant only for the wind to carry:

“I love you, too.”

And then, in a streak of red and blue, he vanished into the sky—ready to protect the city he called home, and the man he loved more than anything.

The familiar creak of the front door closing echoed softly through the stillness of the cozy apartment. Clark Kent stepped inside, his broad shoulders relaxing as he shrugged off his thick, charcoal-gray overcoat. He smoothed out its fabric with practiced care before hanging it on the brass hook by the entryway, a small detail Y/N had insisted on installing when they first moved in together. The air smelled faintly of lavender and vanilla from a gently flickering candle on the bookshelf, mixing with the warm, inviting scent of home-cooked meals from memories past.

The apartment was bathed in a soft, golden glow from the dimmed overhead lights and the warm sparkle of fairy lights strung along the window. Framed photographs of shared adventures lined the walls—a snapshot from their first vacation, candid moments from friends’ weddings, and even a picture of Clark holding a grinning Y/N on his shoulders at a summer fair.

But tonight wasn’t just another ordinary evening. It was their ten-year anniversary, a milestone woven with laughter, challenges, and countless moments of quiet, steadfast love. Tonight, Clark intended to mark that journey in a way neither of them would ever forget.

With steady deliberation, he reached into the inner pocket of his suit jacket and carefully retrieved a small, velvet-covered box. He set it down gently on the cool marble countertop, as though the magnitude of what it held weighed heavier than any feat he had ever accomplished as Superman. His thumb brushed over the soft fabric of the box, tracing its edges with reverence. Inside rested a simple, timeless ring—delicate yet strong, much like the bond he shared with Y/N. He had spent months searching for the perfect piece, envisioning the way it would look on Y/N’s finger every step of the way.

Drawing a deep breath, he squared his shoulders and gently closed the box. The evening wasn’t going to prepare itself. He rolled up the sleeves of his crisp white shirt, exposing his strong forearms, and turned toward the kitchen. Fresh ingredients were laid out precisely as he had planned—Y/N’s favorite meal, every detail considered down to the garnish.

Moments later, Clark turned his attention to the living room, the heart of their shared memories. It was a space shaped by comfort and familiarity, where countless evenings had been spent wrapped in warmth and laughter. He moved with quiet purpose, selecting a small stack of their favorite movies from the shelf—classic comedies that never failed to make them laugh, heartfelt dramas that always left them holding each other a little tighter, and those feel-good romances they could recite line for line. He placed the DVDs neatly on the rustic wooden coffee table, arranging them just so, knowing Y/N would smile the moment they saw them.

Draped over the back of their well-loved couch was a thick, cozy blanket—soft, worn, and infused with memories of lazy Sundays and late-night cuddles. He smoothed out its folds, making sure it was within easy reach for when the night wound down, when dinner was just a memory, and only the quiet comfort of each other remained. A few plump, overstuffed pillows rested at each end of the couch, inviting and familiar.

The soft glow of the fairy lights strung along the window added a magical warmth to the room, their tiny bulbs twinkling like distant stars. On the coffee table, he placed a wooden tray holding two mugs—one ready for hot cocoa, the other for Y/N’s favorite tea, complete with a small jar of honey. A delicate ceramic bowl filled with chocolate-covered almonds—Y/N’s guilty pleasure—completed the thoughtful setup. Every detail was intentional, a reflection of the countless quiet nights they had shared in this very space.

But even as the living room felt ready, Clark couldn’t shake the sense that something was still missing.

He stepped back into the kitchen, enveloped once more by the inviting aroma of the special meal he’d worked so carefully to prepare. The rich scent of seared steak lingered in the air, mingling with the creamy, garlicky aroma of the mashed potatoes he’d whipped until they were impossibly smooth and buttery. The sautéed vegetables—green beans with a light char, caramelized baby carrots glistening with honey, and earthy mushrooms kissed with rosemary—were arranged in a serving dish, their vibrant colors promising comfort and warmth with every bite.

On the stovetop, the red wine sauce had reduced to perfection, its velvety richness gleaming as Clark gave it one last stir. The deep, complex fragrance of simmering shallots, garlic, and wine filled the room, tempting him to taste—but he resisted. This was for Y/N.

His gaze drifted to the marble countertop, where the decadent chocolate mousse cake he had picked up from their favorite bakery waited like the final act of a perfect evening. Its glossy, dark chocolate surface shimmered under the soft kitchen lights, adorned with delicate curls of bittersweet chocolate and a light dusting of powdered sugar. Plump, jewel-toned raspberries rested artfully around the edges, a splash of vibrant red against the dark richness of the cake.

Satisfied with the meal, Clark moved to the small dining table near the bay window. He tugged at the edges of the crisp white tablecloth, ensuring it lay perfectly smooth. Their best dinnerware gleamed in the soft light, paired with sparkling wine glasses and polished silverware arranged with precision. He folded two linen napkins into elegant triangles, placing them neatly by each plate.

At the center of the table sat a modest yet beautiful bouquet—soft blush roses, delicate white lilies, and fragrant sprigs of eucalyptus bound together with natural twine. Their gentle scent mingled with the meal’s intoxicating aromas, adding a romantic, timeless touch. Clark adjusted the bouquet slightly, ensuring it looked effortlessly perfect.

Finally, he lit three slender ivory candles in sleek, minimalist holders. Their warm, flickering flames cast a soft, golden glow across the table, their light shimmering off the delicate crystal and creating an atmosphere of quiet elegance.

With everything in place, Clark allowed himself a moment to pause. The apartment felt magical, transformed by love and intention. Yet his eyes inevitably returned to the small velvet-covered box still resting on the counter, its deep navy surface catching the candlelight like a secret waiting to be shared.

He stepped closer, brushing his thumb once again over its soft, textured fabric. Inside lay the ring—simple yet exquisitely crafted, timeless yet personal. He could still remember the moment he had found it, knowing instantly it was the one. Strong but delicate. Elegant yet enduring. Just like what they had built together.

He imagined Y/N’s face when he saw it—his wide-eyed surprise, the way his breath might hitch, the unmistakable light that would fill his eyes when he understood what Clark was asking. The thought made Clark usually steady hands tremble just a little.

It wasn’t about the meal, the setting, or even the ring.

It was about the ten years of shared memories, of challenges faced side by side, of whispered promises in the dark, and quiet mornings filled with warmth and love. It was about their story—one already filled with so much life and meaning—but with so much more yet to be written.

And tonight, Clark Kent was ready to ask Y/N to write the rest of that story with him—forever.

With dinner prepared, the apartment glowing with warmth, and every thoughtful detail in place, Clark found himself standing in front of the hallway mirror, tugging at the collar of his white dress shirt for what felt like the tenth time. His fingers smoothed the fabric, adjusting the top button, then pausing as he reconsidered, ultimately leaving it undone for a more relaxed look.

He straightened his tie, only to frown and pull it loose again. His reflection stared back, resolute but edged with vulnerability, a flicker of nerves in his usually steady blue eyes.

With a slow, measured breath, he adjusted his glasses—pointless, really, but the familiar motion gave his restless hands something to do. The thin frames rested perfectly on the bridge of his nose, though he still fiddled with them out of habit. He braced his palms against the edge of the dresser, leaning forward, forehead nearly touching the cool surface of the mirror.

“This is fine,” he murmured, voice low but firm, as though willing himself to believe it. “You’ve faced supervillains, alien invasions… even world-ending threats.” He let out a soft, self-deprecating chuckle. “This is just… one question.”

But this question mattered more than anything else he’d ever done.

He exhaled slowly, centering himself, and straightened his posture, rolling his shoulders back as if preparing for battle. His reflection stared back, still strong but undeniably human—vulnerable in a way he rarely allowed himself to be.

“He’s already said yes… a thousand different ways over the past ten years,” Clark whispered, almost as though speaking the words aloud would steady his heart. “This is just… making it official.”

He ran a hand through his dark, slightly tousled hair, pushing it back in a way he knew Y/N liked. His fingers lingered for a moment, brushing against his temple as he let out another breath, more controlled this time. He reached into the pocket of his dress pants and pulled out the small velvet box once again.

Flipping it open, he let his eyes rest on the ring inside—simple but elegant, timeless yet meaningful. He had chosen it with absolute certainty, picturing Y/N’s hand wearing it, imagining how it would feel to place it there himself. The thought made his chest tighten—not with fear, but with overwhelming love.

For a brief moment, the rest of the world faded away. There were no distant cries for help, no looming threats or urgent responsibilities. In this quiet space, there was only the promise of forever, contained in the small, glinting circle of gold resting in the velvet folds.

A soft, affectionate smile tugged at the corners of his mouth, chasing away the last traces of doubt. His voice, low but steady, broke the silence.

“You’ve got this, Kent.”

Just then, the familiar click of the front door unlocking echoed softly through the quiet apartment. His head snapped up, heart pounding with a mix of anticipation and joy.

Y/N was home.

Clark gently closed the ring box, slipping it back into his pocket with practiced care. His pulse quickened, but his hands were steady now. He smoothed his shirt one last time, inhaling deeply, letting the love he felt ground him.

This was the moment. The beginning of something new, built on ten years of shared memories, quiet mornings, and promises unspoken but always understood.

Y/N stepped inside of the apartment, already shrugging off his coat after a long, tiring day at work. He reached out automatically to flip the light switch, expecting the familiar glow of the overhead light—but paused, his fingers hovering in midair.

Something was different.

The apartment was already softly illuminated—not by the usual bright lights, but by the gentle, flickering glow of candles scattered throughout the living room and dining area. A delicate floral fragrance, light and fresh, mingled with the mouthwatering aroma of something savory and richly seasoned wafting from the kitchen. Y/N blinked, his eyes widening as he slowly took in the transformed space before him.

The usually simple, everyday dining table was unrecognizable—draped in a pristine white tablecloth that gleamed softly under the warm candlelight. Two polished wine glasses stood side by side, catching the soft light like tiny prisms, while their best silverware lay neatly arranged on elegant dinner plates. In the center of the table sat a beautifully arranged bouquet of fresh flowers—roses, lilies, and eucalyptus sprigs woven together with thoughtful care. Their delicate petals glowed softly in the candlelight, their fragrance blending seamlessly with the warm, inviting smells of home-cooked food.

Y/N’s gaze drifted toward the kitchen, where a small serving tray waited, holding a carefully plated dinner beneath a gleaming silver cover. Steam still gently wafted from beneath the lid, hinting at something savory and delicious inside. The mouthwatering scent of garlic, herbs, and seared meat hung in the air, making his stomach growl despite the emotional tightness building in his chest.

He took a tentative step forward, feeling his breath hitch as he noticed the living room. There, on the rustic coffee table, was a familiar stack of their favorite movies—the ones they always watched on cozy nights in, when they just needed to be close. A thick, cozy blanket was neatly folded over the back of the couch, inviting and familiar, ready for when the night wound down. Everything was arranged with such intention, such thoughtfulness… such love.

Y/N pressed a trembling hand over his mouth, overwhelmed by the sheer care and intimacy behind every detail. His heart thudded against his ribs, pounding with disbelief and something deeper, something warmer. Was this really happening? Did Clark… do all of this?

Before he could fully process the scene, a quiet creak of the kitchen floorboards caught his attention. He turned slowly, his breath still uneven, and his gaze landed on Clark standing just a few steps away.

Clark’s hands rested loosely at his sides, fidgeting slightly—a rare crack in his usually steady composure—but his expression was soft, warm, and impossibly tender. His deep blue eyes held an intensity that stole Y/N’s breath—not the intensity of a hero prepared for battle, but of a man utterly, irrevocably in love.

“Clark… what is all this?” Y/N whispered, voice trembling with emotion.

Clark’s lips curved into a gentle, familiar smile—the kind that had always felt like home. His eyes shimmered with warmth, reflecting ten years of shared memories, quiet mornings, and late-night talks. “Happy anniversary,” he murmured, taking a slow, measured step closer.

Y/N let out a shaky breath, his gaze flickering from the candlelit table to the familiar stack of movies—and finally back to the man who had done all of this. The man he loved with every fiber of his being. “You… you did all this… for me?” His voice cracked, disbelief and affection tangling in his throat.

Clark’s smile widened just a fraction, his eyes softening even further. “For us,” he corrected gently, his voice steady but filled with quiet vulnerability.

Y/N felt tears pricking at the corners of his eyes, his heart swelling so much it almost hurt. Every detail—the flowers, the meal, the movies, the candles—felt like a physical manifestation of the life they had built together. A life filled with love, warmth, and quiet, shared moments that meant everything.

His hands trembled as he reached for Clark, closing the space between them in a heartbeat. His arms wrapped tightly around Clark’s strong frame, pulling him into an embrace filled with every unspoken word he couldn’t seem to say. Clark held him just as fiercely, his face burying into Y/N’s shoulder, breathing him in like he was the only thing that mattered.

Y/N’s breath hitched against Clark’s neck, a soft, broken sound of love and wonder. Neither of them moved for a long moment, wrapped in each other’s arms, grounded in the familiarity and promise of what they shared.

In that moment, there was no world outside, no responsibilities, no distant cries for help—only them. Two hearts, intertwined and steady, standing at the edge of something new, something even deeper than what had come before.

Surrounded by the gentle glow of candlelight and the quiet warmth of home, Clark held Y/N tighter, silently promising that this—they—would always be his greatest adventure.

And tonight, their forever was just beginning.

The warm glow of candlelight flickered softly across the cozy apartment, casting gentle, golden light over every familiar surface. Y/N and Clark sat comfortably on the well-worn couch, plates balanced carefully on their laps while the familiar sounds of their favorite movie played quietly in the background. The soft crackle of the candles still burning on the dining table blended with the movie’s soundtrack, creating an atmosphere of warmth, intimacy, and quiet joy.

Clark had insisted on serving the meal himself, carrying each perfectly plated dish with the care of someone offering up something precious. The garlic-herb steak, creamy mashed potatoes, and perfectly sautéed vegetables looked like something from a five-star restaurant—but tasted even better. Each bite was rich, savory, and cooked exactly the way Y/N liked it.

“This is so good,” Y/N mumbled around another bite, eyes widening with genuine delight. “Seriously… did you take a secret cooking class or something? How do you always nail this?”

Clark chuckled, a faint blush rising in his cheeks. He rubbed the back of his neck, sheepish but clearly pleased. “I might’ve… practiced a little,” he admitted, his voice low and warm. “I just wanted tonight to be perfect.”

Y/N’s heart swelled at the quiet sincerity in Clark’s words. The love behind every carefully considered detail of the evening hit him all at once—the flowers, the candles, the dinner, the movies—all thoughtfully chosen, all crafted with so much care. He set his plate down on the coffee table, suddenly unable to focus on the food when something far more important was sitting right beside him.

Without a word, Y/N reached out and gently placed his hand over Clark’s, his fingertips tracing slow, familiar patterns across the back of Clark’s strong, calloused hand. The warmth of his skin was grounding, comforting, home.

“You are perfect,” Y/N whispered, his voice trembling slightly with emotion. “This whole night… the dinner, the movies, the candles… everything. It’s perfect.”

Clark’s breath caught, his eyes softening as he gently turned his hand to entwine their fingers together. His thumb traced slow, reassuring circles over Y/N’s knuckles, a quiet gesture that spoke volumes.

“You didn’t have to go through all this trouble,” Y/N continued, his gaze never leaving Clark’s. “But you did. You always do… You always find a way to make me feel so loved.”

Clark’s breath hitched slightly, his fingers tightening just a little around Y/N’s hand. His voice was low but steady, full of quiet intensity. “You are loved… more than anything… more than I could ever say.”

Y/N’s eyes shimmered with unshed tears, his heart pounding with affection so deep it felt impossible to contain. Slowly, he leaned in, resting his forehead gently against Clark’s, savoring the quiet, shared connection. In that small, still moment, surrounded by the warm glow of flickering candles and the familiar hum of their shared life, nothing else existed—only them.

“Thank you… for all of this,” Y/N whispered, his voice breaking just slightly. “For everything.”

Clark smiled softly, tilting his head just enough to brush his lips gently against Y/N’s in a tender, lingering kiss. It was slow, filled with all the love and devotion words could never fully express. His hand cupped Y/N’s cheek, fingers sliding into his hair as he deepened the kiss just enough to make the world fall away.

When they finally parted, their foreheads still resting together, Clark’s voice was barely above a whisper—but steady and sure.

“There’s still… one more thing.”

Y/N blinked, momentarily caught off guard, curiosity sparking in his expression. “What do you mean?”

Clark’s hands trembled ever so slightly as he reached for Y/N’s, threading their fingers together with practiced ease, grounding himself in the familiar warmth of that touch. His heart pounded with a mixture of nerves and anticipation, but the feel of Y/N’s hand in his steadied him, like it always had.

“Come with me,” Clark whispered softly, his voice low but sure.

Y/N blinked in surprise but let Clark gently guide him off the couch and into the softly glowing living room. The flickering candlelight cast a warm halo around them, creating a setting that felt timeless, intimate, and entirely their own. Y/N’s expression shifted from curious to something deeper, something tender, as he felt the subtle tension in Clark’s usually steady grip.

Clark exhaled slowly, forcing himself to breathe, to be fully present in this moment he’d imagined countless times. His thumb traced slow, deliberate circles over Y/N’s knuckles—a silent reassurance for both of them. When he finally met Y/N’s gaze, his deep blue eyes shimmered with emotion—vulnerable but unwavering, filled with love so profound it left no room for doubt.

“Y/N…” Clark began, his voice trembling just enough to reveal how much this meant to him. “There’s something I’ve been wanting to say… something I’ve been thinking about for a long time.”

Y/N’s breath hitched, his lips parting slightly in surprise, but he stayed quiet, his gaze steady, urging Clark to continue.

Clark tightened his hold ever so slightly, his hands enveloping Y/N’s like a protective barrier, keeping them both anchored in this moment. His voice grew steadier, though still thick with emotion.

“From the very first moment I saw you… back in high school… I knew,” Clark said softly, his eyes shining with memory and meaning. “I didn’t know exactly what ‘forever’ looked like back then… but I knew you were going to be someone important. The someone.”

Y/N’s eyes shimmered, already brimming with unshed tears as the weight of Clark’s words settled over him.

“We’ve built this incredible life together,” Clark continued, his voice deepening with quiet intensity. “Through moves, jobs… everything life’s thrown at us. And through it all… I’ve known one thing with absolute certainty.” He swallowed hard, his lips quirking into the faintest, most affectionate smile. “I want to spend every day, every moment… with you.”

Y/N’s breath shuddered as a tear slipped free, trailing slowly down his cheek.

Clark’s eyes softened even further as he gently wiped the tear away with his thumb. “I thought about this night so many times… about what I’d say… but I kept coming back to something you said once.”

Y/N blinked, his brow furrowing faintly as he tried to recall.

“It was a long time ago… back when we first talked about marriage,” Clark murmured, his deep voice softening into something reverent, as if he were holding a fragile, cherished memory in his hands. His gaze lowered for a brief moment, lost in the weight of what he was about to say. When he looked back up, his eyes gleamed with something raw and unguarded—love, hope, and nostalgia woven together.

“‘Don’t marry me just because we’ve been together forever…’” he repeated, his voice trembling ever so slightly as he spoke the familiar words. “You said that to me.”

The memory hit Y/N like a crashing wave—vivid, intimate, and achingly familiar. It had been during one of those long, late-night talks when the world outside didn’t matter, and the future felt like a distant, untouchable dream. Y/N remembered the quiet stillness of that night, the soft glow of the bedside lamp illuminating Clark’s thoughtful expression as they both lay tangled together, speaking from the heart without hesitation.

Clark’s warm fingers brushed gently over Y/N’s, grounding him in the present even as his words pulled him back to that deeply personal moment. His touch was familiar, steady, and reassuring—the same touch Y/N trusted through every joy, every storm, every uncertain tomorrow.

His voice softened even further, dipping into something more intimate, more earnest, as though he were speaking directly to your soul. “‘Marry me because you want to,’” he continued, his thumbs tracing slow, tender circles over the backs of Y/N’s hands. “‘Because you can’t see yourself with anyone else. Marry me… because you love me.’”

Y/N’s breath hitched as those words echoed through him, every syllable steeped in memory and meaning. They weren’t just words from the past—they were a promise him had once made without realizing how much they would come to define his future.

Tears welled in Y/N’s eyes, blurring the sight of Clark’s face, but Y/N could still see the love etched into every line, every tender curve of his expression. His gaze held Y/N’s with such fierce intensity that it felt like nothing else in the world existed—just the two of them, tethered by a shared history and an undeniable, enduring love.

Clark’s hands tightened around Y/N’s just slightly—not possessive, but grounding—anchoring them both in the weight of the present. His breath hitched as he whispered, “I never forgot those words… not for a second.”

His voice cracked, just faintly, but he pressed on, his expression resolute and filled with quiet determination. “I don’t want to marry you because of how long we’ve been together… or because it’s ‘what comes next.’ I want to marry you because there’s no one else I could ever imagine standing beside me. No one else I want to build a future with… grow old with.”

He let out a shaky breath, his eyes glistening as he whispered, “I want to marry you… because I love you.”

Y/N let out a soft, broken laugh, tears spilling freely now as he clung to Clark’s every word.

Clark’s breath hitched, his chest tightening with emotion. Slowly, deliberately, he lowered himself onto one knee, his gaze never wavering, his hands still cradling Y/N’s as though letting go was unthinkable. With quiet reverence, he reached into his pocket and pulled out the small velvet box he’d carried close to him all night. His fingers trembled only slightly as he opened it, revealing the simple yet elegant ring—a perfect symbol of the love they had built: enduring, strong, timeless.

“I do, Y/N,” Clark whispered, his voice raw with unguarded emotion. “I love you… endlessly. I see my forever… and it’s you. It’s always been you.”

His gaze softened further, shimmering with hope, love, and absolute certainty. “Will you… will you marry me?”

The room seemed suspended in breathless stillness—time stretching endlessly in the space between the question and the answer. Tears streamed down Y/N’s face as a choked, tearful laugh escaped his lips. He covered his mouth for just a second, overcome, before reaching down and pulling Clark up into his arms with a fierce, unrestrained embrace.

“Yes,” Y/N whispered, voice trembling but resolute. “Yes. A thousand times… yes.”

Clark let out a shaky, relieved laugh, wrapping his arms around Y/N like he never intended to let go. Their foreheads pressed together, tears mingling as they clung to the enormity of the moment—the life they had already built and the future they were now promising.

Time seemed to stop the moment Clark gently slid the ring onto Y/N’s finger. His large, warm hands trembled just enough for you to notice, though his grip remained steady and sure—like he was grounding himself in the reality of this moment. Clark’s ocean-blue eyes glistened with unshed tears, swirling with relief, joy, and an overwhelming depth of love that stole Y/N’s breath away. His expression softened as though the weight of anticipation he’d been carrying for weeks had finally lifted.

For a moment, all Y/N could do was stare at the ring sparkling brilliantly in the soft candlelight. Its elegance and meaning were undeniable, but even its beauty couldn’t compare to the way Clark was looking at Y/N—like he were the most precious, extraordinary person in the world, the very center of his universe.

Emotion swelled in Y/N’s chest, leaving him speechless. Tears blurred his vision, but through the shimmering haze, he could still see Clark—standing there, still holding his hand like he couldn’t bear to let go, his breath uneven as he searched your face for reassurance that this was real.

With every ounce of love, joy, and unspoken promise between them, Y/N closed the distance and pulled Clark into the most heartfelt, soul-deep kiss they had ever shared. It wasn’t rushed or urgent—it was steady, certain, and profound, like the turning of the earth, like something that had always been meant to happen.

Their lips met with a softness that carried ten years of shared history—nights spent laughing until their sides hurt, quiet mornings tangled in sheets as sunlight streamed through the windows, whispered promises exchanged in the dark when the world felt too heavy. This kiss held all of that—and more. It was the culmination of a thousand moments, big and small, that had built the life they shared.

Clark’s hands came up slowly, almost reverently, cradling Y/N’s face with a tenderness that spoke of how deeply he cherished this moment. His fingers brushed against Y/N’s jaw, his touch light but grounding, as if he couldn’t quite believe this was real. His lips moved against Y/N’s with aching sincerity, pouring his heart into the connection, into the unspoken vow that they would never have to let go.

Y/N’s arms wrapped securely around Clark’s broad shoulders, pulling him closer until there was no space left between them—only warmth, only love, only them. He felt Clark’s breath hitch ever so slightly against his mouth, felt the way his shoulders relaxed as though the weight of the world had finally fallen away, leaving only this perfect, timeless moment.

The soft glow of the candles flickered gently around them, casting dancing shadows across the familiar walls of their home. The delicate scent of roses and eucalyptus lingered faintly in the air, mingling with the comforting warmth still radiating from the hearth of the kitchen. The world outside seemed to hold its breath, quiet and still, as though honoring something sacred unfolding in that small, candle-lit apartment.

But the only warmth they truly felt was the steady, enduring fire they had always kindled in each other—the kind of warmth built over years of shared dreams, quiet comforts, and unconditional love.

When they finally pulled away, their foreheads rested together, breath mingling as they lingered in the quiet intimacy of the moment. Y/N’s fingers gently traced the edge of Clark’s jaw, his touch still trembling from the overwhelming rush of emotion. Clark’s eyes opened slowly, his deep blue gaze shining with love, awe, and absolute certainty.

“I love you,” Clark whispered, voice thick with emotion, as though the words weren’t nearly enough but still everything he needed to say.

Y/N smiled through tears that still shimmered in his eyes, his own voice breaking. “I love you… so much.”

Their fingers entwined again, holding on as though they never intended to let go—and they didn’t. They wouldn’t. This was forever.

Their story—already filled with so much life, so many memories and shared adventures—was only just beginning.

And in the soft, golden glow of their home, surrounded by the quiet beauty they had built together, they stood hand in hand—ready to write the next chapter, together.

[gottalovesatoru]

𝟗:𝟐𝟑 𝐚.𝐦

“Baby?” Someone lightly shakes your shoulder, but you only groan in response, clutching at the covers and pulling them further up your body. 

“Wake up, sleepy head,” the voice says, a bit louder this time, laced with amusement. When they rub at your shoulder, hard enough to rouse you but still gentle, you lazily open an eye, revealing Satoru, sitting on the side of the bed. 

The blinds are pulled open behind him, early morning sunlight pouring in, highlighting the edges of his hair. He’s not wearing any eye-coverings, so you get to see him in all his glory, azure eyes set on you. His skin crinkles in the corners as he gives you a soft smile. “How’s my angel?” He asks, leaning down to place a lingering kiss on your forehead, brushing your hair back with a warm hand.

You pout, grumpy that he’s woken you up, but pleased that he’s the first thing you saw when you opened your eyes. “Mornin’,” you say.

“Good morning. ‘Missed you.” Satoru’s hand settles on the side of your face, thumb stroking your skin as he talks. “You’ve been sleeping for too long, there’s only so much you can dream about when all you need is right in front of you, you know.”

Laughing, you sit up, sheets pooling at your waist, and you reach over to envelop him in a cozy hug as a greeting. You feel him sniff your hair, nose at your neck, rub his large palms up and down your back. Slowly, he maneuvers you back down and settles on top of you, making sure to keep half of his weight on the mattress so you’re not crushed. He ends up with his head resting on your chest, his arms wrapped around you, tangled with you and the sheets. His palms are warm, crawling underneath your shirt to feel your bare skin. 

You place your own arms around his shoulders, one of your hands carding through his pillowy hair. You close your eyes as he invades your senses, content to just lay like this. To bask in this morning with him, knowing that you’re here together. That you’ve been granted this luxury, at least for today. 

“Is someone feeling clingy?” You tease. 

He whines, burying further into you. “So mean to me, baby. What did I ever do to deserve this?”

Giggling, you place a kiss on the crown of his head, and you can hear him sigh against you, satisfied with your affection. 

“Love you, ‘Toru,” you say. You mean it more than anything. 

He momentarily brings his face up for a kiss, grinning at you in that lovesick way that does terrible things to your heart. “I love you too,” he responds, then giving you another. 

The two of you lay there, content to love each other, and enjoy this moment. 

[peachiejeongin]

Seungmin As Your Husband

Request from @hantaechan: "A seungmin one, please? him as y/ns hubby?"

Synopsis: Headcannons of Seungmin as your husband

Pairing: husband!Seungmin x reader

Genre: Fluff!

Warnings: None!

Notice: Hello, my love! Thank you so much for your request! I unfortunately could not think of any full on fictions for the request, so I decided to compromise and create some minature headcannons for how I believe Seungmin would act as your husband! I'm thinking about turning this into a series, so let me know if that would be something you are interested in! Enjoy my loves <3

・❥ Husband Seungmin who knew you were his fated lover just a few months into dating you, yet he always felt a bit shy when it came to the act of proposing.

・❥ Husband Seungmin who planned the perfect proposal by taking you to your favorite cozy spot: your own backyard under a canopy of fairy lights, where he nervously got down on one need and said, "I can't imagine my life without you. Will you marry me?"

・❥ Husband Seungmin who tried to stay calm and composed on your wedding day, but his hands trembled slightly as he adjusted his tie; his eyes welled up the moment he saw you walking down the aisle, whispering under his breath, "I'm the luckiest man alive."

・❥ Husband Seungmin who is still so shy at initiating affection after all of these years, but when he does muster the courage to do so, he gets immensely clingy, refusing to let you out of his arms for hours at a time.

・❥ Husband Seungmin who always remembers your favorite coffee order, even if it is overly complicated, and surprises you with it on lazy weekend mornings.

・❥ Husband Seungmin who takes candid polaroids of you, even when you are not feeling your best, because he loves capturing your beauty in every day moments.

・❥ Husband Seungmin who memorizes the little things; he has since the beginning of your relationship, but he now pays extra mind to the miniscule details, such as the specifics of your breakfast or what side of the bed you prefer to sleep on.

・❥ Husband Seungmin who learns your favorite recipes, even if he burns the first helping, because he wants to make them perfectly for you every day.

・❥ Husband Seungmin who gladly does the laundry, dishes, and other household chores if you are not feeling up to them or are out for most of the day; he does not believe chores should simply be a "wifely" duty.

・❥ Husband Seungmin who pretends to be annoyed when you steal his hoodies, pretending that it is such a, "teenager" thing to do; however, he secretly loves when you take them.

・❥ Husband Seungmin who makes playlists of soft songs that remind him of you and plays them during long trips.

・❥ Husband Seungmin who leaves post-it notes around the house for you to find if he has to leave for work early, scribbled with messages such as, "Don't forget: you're amazing!" and, "Have an amazing day, my love."

・❥ Husband Seungmin who organizes surprise dates that always happen to be just what you need, whether it is a flashy night out on the town or a comfortable night on the couch.

・❥ Husband Seungmin who holds close to the traditions the two of you have made, such as sharing a slice of cake on your anniversaries or watching the same movie on Christmas Day.

・❥ Husband Seungmin who always smiles when you catch him staring at you, softly mumbling, "I just love looking at my beautiful."

[gs29]

A Lovely Morning

Squid Game Master list

The first rays of sunlight peeked through the soft curtains, casting a warm golden glow across the room. The early morning air, still cool with the remnants of the night’s rain, smelled fresh and clean, as if the world had just been given a new start. It was the kind of morning that made everything feel right, quiet, and peaceful.

Gong Yoo lay beside you, his long body tucked under the blankets, his dark hair mussed from sleep. He had a way of waking up slowly, as though he was savoring the moment. His breath was steady, and the rise and fall of his chest beneath the sheets provided a comforting rhythm that made the morning feel like it was unfolding just for the two of you.

You were still half-asleep, your head resting on the soft pillow, your hand gently holding the edge of the blanket. The warmth of his body next to you, the quiet stillness of the room, and the familiar feeling of his presence made it feel like time was standing still. You didn’t want to break it, but you couldn’t help yourself. You reached out, gently running your fingers over the back of his hand. The soft brush of your fingertips against his skin made him stir.

Gong Yoo’s eyelids fluttered open, and when he saw you looking at him, a soft smile stretched across his face, the kind of smile that could melt any lingering traces of sleep. “Good morning, love,” he murmured, his voice thick with sleep, yet so warm and comforting.

“Good morning,” you replied, your voice still a little groggy from just waking up. You shifted closer to him, resting your head on his chest. The steady beat of his heart was a lullaby that calmed your mind, grounding you in the present.

He wrapped his arm around you, pulling you closer as if to say he never wanted to leave this moment either. His hand lightly stroked your back, the tender touch sending a wave of warmth through you.

“Did you sleep well?” you asked, your voice a whisper as you traced small circles on the soft fabric of his t-shirt.

Gong Yoo hummed in contentment, his hand gently caressing your hair. “Better now that you’re awake,” he replied, his fingers playing with the strands of your hair. “It’s strange, but I always sleep the best when I’m next to you.”

A light laugh escaped you, and you felt a warmth bloom in your chest. "You're a charmer," you teased, your fingers tracing the edge of his jaw, still feeling the remnants of sleep there.

He smiled, a lazy grin that softened the features of his face. “Well, I do try,” he said, his eyes sparkling with affection. “But seriously, every morning with you is perfect.”

You couldn’t help but smile, feeling your heart flutter a little. There was a simplicity to mornings like this, when the world outside hadn’t quite woken up, and it was just the two of you in this cozy little bubble. There were no worries, no rush, just the quiet intimacy of being together.

The silence stretched between you for a moment, peaceful and warm, until you yawned, stretching your arms above your head. “How about we make breakfast?” you suggested, your voice still soft, but carrying the hint of the day ahead. “I’m craving something warm.”

“Mmm, breakfast sounds perfect,” Gong Yoo replied, his eyes narrowing in a playful manner. “Pancakes?”

You raised an eyebrow, glancing up at him. “Pancakes? You just know how to make the best ones, don’t you?”

His grin widened, and he lifted an eyebrow in mock arrogance. “I do pride myself on my pancake skills,” he said, the light teasing tone never leaving his voice. “But you’re going to help me, right? Teamwork makes the dream work.”

You chuckled, sitting up and stretching your arms. “Fine, but I’m only agreeing to help if I can eat as much of the batter as I want.”

“Deal.” He smiled, leaning forward to kiss you on the forehead. It was a sweet, soft kiss that made you feel all warm inside. “You go grab the ingredients, and I’ll get the pan ready. Sound good?”

You nodded, sliding out of bed and heading toward the kitchen, the soft creak of the floorboards beneath your feet making the morning feel even more cozy. Gong Yoo followed you into the kitchen, his tall frame looming just behind you as you rummaged through the cabinets, gathering flour, eggs, milk, and a few extra ingredients for your special pancakes.

“What about chocolate chips?” he suggested, peeking over your shoulder as he found the bag of chocolate chips in the pantry. “You know how much we both love those.”

You grinned, taking the bag from his hand and tossing a few extra handfuls into the bowl. “Why not? Let’s make them extra special today.”

Together, you worked in sync, measuring and mixing, your soft conversation flowing in between moments of silence. Gong Yoo was never in a rush in the mornings—he enjoyed every little moment. His hand brushed against yours as he passed you a spatula, his touch warm and familiar. You laughed when a bit of pancake batter splashed onto his shirt, and in turn, he tickled you when you weren’t paying attention, making you squeal and squirm away from him.

"You’re lucky you're cute," you said, wiping the batter off his shirt with a rag, even though he clearly didn’t mind.

“I think you’re the lucky one,” he said, his voice low, teasing, but there was a sincerity in it that made your heart skip a beat. “I get to wake up with you every day.”

A small blush crept across your face, and you felt your chest tighten in that familiar way when he spoke from the heart. It wasn’t just the grand moments, but these little exchanges that made you fall deeper in love with him every single day.

Finally, the pancakes were ready—fluffy, golden brown, and topped with a generous sprinkle of chocolate chips. You set the table while Gong Yoo drizzled syrup on top, his careful movements showing how much he cherished these small moments.

Sitting down across from him, you both dug in, the sweet taste of pancakes filling your mouth. For a while, there was only the sound of forks clinking against plates, a soft background hum of the world outside, and the occasional hum of contentment from both of you.

“This is perfect,” you said, glancing up from your plate to meet his eyes. “I don’t think I could ask for a better morning.”

Gong Yoo smiled, his eyes soft as he reached across the table and took your hand. “I agree,” he said. “As long as it’s with you, every morning will be perfect.”

You squeezed his hand in return, feeling that familiar rush of love for the man who made even the simplest moments feel special. In that quiet moment, surrounded by the warmth of your home, you knew that this was what happiness looked like—shared mornings, shared laughter, shared love. Simple, yet perfect in its own way.

And as the morning light continued to fill the room, you both sat there, savoring the peace that only came from knowing you were right where you were meant to be. Together.

[satellite-evans]

Hi! I saw that you’re taking requests..I wholeheartedly believe that Benedict is one of those ppl who are always warm like a human furnace sooo do you think you could write something about him keeping the reader warm when it’s cold outside (i.e, holding hands, hugging, etc.)

Much love😇💜

Warm Embrace

Pairing: Benedict Bridgerton x reader

Summary: You find solace in the warm and comforting presence of your husband <3

Word count: 874

Warnings: just pure fluff

A/N:

Thank you so much for your request nonnie, You guys make me the happiest girl in the world when you sent in not only request, but also asks or questions, it honestly and truly makes my day🥹🥹🥹

English is not my first language, so I apologize if I made any (grammar) mistakes. Feedback, requests, recommendations, vents or questions are always welcome. I love talking to you guys about anything <3

Happy reading xxx

I do NOT give permission for my work to be translated or reposted on here or any other site.

The chill of the early winter morning seeped through the cracks of the old country house, the wind howling softly outside. You shivered, wrapping your shawl tighter around your shoulders as you looked out the window, watching the first snowflakes of the season dance gracefully to the ground. The room was dimly lit, the pale morning light filtering through the heavy curtains, casting a serene, almost magical glow over everything.

"You're awake early," came a familiar, warm voice from behind you. You turned to see Benedict, his hair tousled from sleep, standing in the doorway of your bedroom. He wore a simple nightshirt, the soft fabric clinging to his well-built frame, his presence comforting and reassuring.

"I couldn't sleep," you admitted, smiling at him. "The cold woke me."

Benedict's eyes softened as he walked over to you, his presence immediately warming the room. "Come here," he murmured, pulling you into his arms. His body radiated heat, and you sighed contentedly as you nestled against his chest, feeling his warmth envelop you. His embrace was familiar and secure, the perfect refuge from the biting cold.

He led you back to the bed, pulling the covers up as you both slipped underneath. Benedict wrapped his arms around you, pulling you close. His body radiated heat like a human furnace, and you felt the chill melt away as he held you tight. The sensation of his warm skin against yours was incredibly comforting, a stark contrast to the cold air outside the bed.

"Better?" he asked, his lips brushing against your temple.

"Much better," you replied, resting your head against his shoulder. "You always know how to keep me warm."

Benedict chuckled softly, his hand gently rubbing your back. "It's a husband's duty to ensure his wife is comfortable," he said, his voice filled with warmth and affection. "Especially on such a cold morning."

You smiled against his chest, feeling his heartbeat steady and strong beneath your ear. "Well, you're certainly excelling at it," you teased, your fingers tracing lazy patterns on his back. You felt the slight rise and fall of his chest as he breathed, each exhale a soft whisper of warmth against your hair.

Benedict shifted slightly, pulling you even closer, his hands roaming your back in soothing circles. "Stay here with me," he whispered, his lips pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead. "We don't have to get up just yet. Let's just enjoy the warmth and the quiet."

You nodded, closing your eyes as you relaxed into his embrace. "There is no place in the world that I would rather at than to be here with you."

The world outside seemed to fade away, leaving only the two of you in your cozy cocoon. The wind continued to howl outside, but you felt safe and warm within Benedict's arms. His fingers trailed up and down your spine, leaving a trail of warmth in their wake.

After a while, Benedict began to hum softly, the deep, rich sound vibrating through his chest. You recognized the tune – a lullaby his mother sang to him and his siblings when they were children. Violet told you that it was the only way her children slept, especially Benedict, who always found it difficult to fall asleep. The melody was soothing, and you felt yourself drifting off, lulled by the warmth of his body and the gentle sound of his voice. You couldn't help but wonder if Benedict would sing it later to his own children too.

Benedict continued to hum, his hands never ceasing their gentle movements on your back. He was like a living, breathing source of warmth and comfort, and you felt incredibly grateful to have him by your side. His warmth seemed to seep into your very bones, driving away any lingering chill.

As the morning light slowly brightened the room, you opened your eyes to find Benedict watching you, a tender smile on his lips. "Good morning again," he said softly, brushing a strand of hair away from your face. The look in his eyes was one of pure adoration, making your heart swell with love.

"Good morning," you replied, leaning in to kiss him. His lips were warm and soft, and you felt a rush of love and contentment wash over you. The kiss was slow and tender and felt like a warm lasting hug that you never wanted to break.

"Shall we get up and start the day?" Benedict asked after a moment, his forehead resting against yours.

You shook your head, a playful smile on your lips. "Not just yet. Let's stay like this a little longer."

Benedict chuckled, his arms tightening around you. "As you wish, my love," he said, settling back against the pillows with you still in his embrace. The sound of his laughter was like a warm breeze, filling you with happiness.

And so you stayed, wrapped in each other's warmth, savoring the quiet moments before the day began. Outside, the snow continued to fall, but inside, all you felt was the heat of Benedict's love, keeping the cold at bay. The world outside could wait; for now, there was only the two of you, nestled together in your own private haven of warmth and love.

[bad-and-drawn-that-way]

This has probably been requested before, but I had this idea and wanted to share.

My personal headcanon is that Vox keeps his room super cold to help with all the electronics (I took an animation class and that room was always freezing!). So, reader naturally has a blanket hoard that they bury in like a dragon buries itself in treasure.

Not sure if this was something you wanted to write about, but wanted to share regardless!

BRO YOU HAVE NO IDEA HOW MUCH THIS IDEA BRINGS ME JOY! YES! I saw a request the other day about the idea of Vox having his aquarium connected to his bedroom and I haven't been able to get it out of my head. Also, it drives me insane we only have the name for one of his sharks. In a high stroke of genius, I've decided the other shark is named Spark. Vark and Spark. This is my canon now, amazon be damned.

Cool Temperatures [Vox x Reader Headcanons NSFW Mentioned]

(NSFW writing under the cut. Minors stay away <3)

Vox was never one to get too cold. In fact, if anything, the infernal blazes of Hell proved to be a nuisance when it came to day-to-day life for the overlord. To combat this, Vox's room had every state-of-the-art cooling system known to every ring of Hell. A solid 27% of the electricity bill for the tower was consumed by the air conditioners and the aquarium from the meeting room that connected to his room above.

You need every blanket and hoodie in the Pride Ring to stay warm in his room. It was large, it was dark, and it was fucking cold. When you went into his room for the first time, it had been on your third date. You'd both gotten a little tipsy and were eagerly pulling each other's clothes off when the large double doors (dude is bougie as fuck) slid open when you were nearly knocked over with what felt like the fucking tundra.

Of course, Vox teased you with a shit-eating grin as he watched you shiver. You'd tried to complain about the ridiculous temperature as you attempted to pull your shirt back on, but Vox's hands were on your wrists in an instant. The way your body reacted to the cold was one of his new favorite things. He relished in the way goosebumps decorated your skin and he wasted no time in showing you just how much he appreciated how the cold affected your tits.

It didn't take as much convincing as he expected when he asked you to move in with him. Only after a few months of dating, he was already determined to spend the rest of eternity with you. He expected you to protest due to how many times you woke up in the middle of the night freezing cold because Vox kicked all the covers off in his sleep. He expected you to hesitate because of how much you hated getting out of bed due to the cold. But instead, you said yes immediately.

"Yeah, waking up in the morning sucks," you admit as he questions your willingness. "But on the mornings you haven't left early for work, it's worth it because you're there."

Vox was so unbelievably whipped from that day on. He went to the development team and had them make you a giant heated bean bag that you used obsessively. He'd lost track of the number of times he'd come home late after a long day at work, only to find you wrapped up in a dozen blankets and in your favorite hoodie, all cozied up on the shark patterned heat.

Sometimes you have to kick his ass for stealing your hoodies. He didn't need them! You needed them! You were going to turn into a popsicle, meanwhile a refrigerator might as well have given birth to your silly boyfriend. He just liked making you try to take it off of him. And he liked that it smelled like you.

[merakiui]

bestie!vil who casually fixes your boobs in your bra for you, no he did not just tweak your nipple, do you think he's one of those desperate dogs you spend so much time with? He also calls you out on your posture and says it comes from the pelvis, he knows a few massages and stretches if you're interested. You want to try on his lipstick shade? Well, he doesn't want to contaminate the entire tube so...mwah! What? It's not like it meant anything, you're best friends after all.

One of the girls!Cater who walks around in his boxer-briefs during a sleepover or before bed. When you wake up he's always cuddled up to your back, morning wood grinding into you but he needs his cuddles, dont neglect him! Also he saw the prettiest thongs at VS, and since a few of yours went missing, you should totes go buy some new ones. Cater thinks you're soooo cute first thing in the morning, too sleepy and tired to realize that he slid his underwear down and has been leaking all over the back of your tanktop the entire time :(

-👠 anon (i think tumblrs been eating my asks D:)

OTL sitting in best friend Vil's lap while he does your makeup... there's nothing to it! Just two besties giving each other makeovers. If you feel something prodding at your ass every time you shift on his lap, pay it no mind. And if Vil grabs your hips and forces you still, don't worry about that either. If you keep moving so much, he'll mess up your eyeliner! You don't want that, do you?

AND CAY-CAY WITH MORNING WOOD AAAAAAAA. It's still so early and you're much too sleepy to realize his dick is between your thighs and he's been slowly and carefully rutting into you every now and then. Quite literally fucks you back to sleep. <3 just let your bestie cuddle with you a little longer. It's so warm and cozy, and he's massaging your hip so sweetly. You doze off within seconds, leaving Cater with enough time to reach his climax and clean you up before you're waking another hour later.

Being besties with Idia and the two of you watch hentai together and rank the ahegao of every character. >:D the tier list is coming along nicely. You're lying on your stomach on his bed while he's gaming, and it hasn't yet occurred to Idia that this entire time he's been hanging out weekly with a girl. But then he starts thinking deeply about it and suddenly his mind is racing with thoughts. orz

Besties with Ace and Deuce, who have slept over so many times that at this point Ramshackle is like a second home to them. They know where you keep everything. Where all of the snacks are hidden from Grim. Which drawers hold your clothes and, most importantly, undergarments. Ace is probably so sneaky and nosy that he goes so far as trying to sniff out if you've got any sex toys hidden somewhere. Deuce is curious, but he has to be nice and respectful of your space like a good best friend. He's only following Ace to make sure he doesn't do anything weird while you're washing up in the bathroom. It's not so he can also learn the location of these toys and compare his size to the size of the dildos. T_T

Being besties with Azul and he's managed to become so comfortable around you that he allows you to relax in the pool with him while he's busy multitasking with all eight of his tentacles. You're happily swimming laps and trying (and failing) to get him to take a break and join you. He keeps you at a distance with one tentacle, pushing you away and claiming, "Not now. This is very important and requires all of my focus." You pout and whine. Maybe he entertains you with that same tentacle, playfully poking and prodding at you while his eyes remain glued to the (magically waterproof) contract he's reviewing. He knows exactly what he's doing when he "accidentally" manhandles you with his tentacle, so much so that your swimsuit top comes untied. Oh dear. Would you look at that? It's come off. <3

[bumblebeesfromvenus]

Diamond Rings 💫

Bale!Bruce Wayne x wife!reader

A/N: I finally got around to writing this lovely request!! Fluffy morning sex is perfect for Bruce AHHH 😭 and this is also the sequel to 'My Precious Jewel' !! Get your nom noms :3

~Fi 🐝

《Prompt》: the ask is here!

《Requested by》: anon <3

《Warnings》: NSFW CONTENT. proceed with caution. Handjob, edging (barely), PiV, throat holding (???), creampie (don't be like them), lil bit of cockwarming, so fluffy it's sickening, Bruce is a hopeless romantic, change my mind. (You can't)

《Word count》: 2.6k

Sequel to My Precious Jewel ♧

Can be read as stand alone as well though!

Masterlist ✨️

Please don't copy my work! I put a lot of effort and heart into the things I write.

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The morning sun was streaming in through the curtains, tickling your face. You stirred, craning your neck to take a peak at the time. 8:39 am. You sighed sleepily, turning around and snuggling closer to the man who had his strong arms wrapped around you.

You smiled softly as you saw his peaceful expression, still dreaming away. Feeling a cold sensation on your hot skin, you gently lifted the covers. The hand that held you tightly yet so lovingly had a gold ring sitting on its ring finger. You quickly inspected your own hand, finding a golden wedding band there as well.

You had to stop yourself from squealing like a little girl when you realized that all of it, the wedding, the reception and the kiss weren't a dream. You were officially married now.

There were so many emotions bubbling up in your chest. Unbridled joy, disbelief, and pure excitement. But, you'd decided to deal with all of that later, and for now just enjoy your first morning snooze as Mrs. Wayne.

You pressed a sweet kiss to Bruce's lips, and closed your eyes, burying your face in his t-shirt clad chest. It wasn't even 9 in the morning. You'd sleep till dusk like this if you could. Safely in the embrace of your now husband, feeling each other's steady heartbeat and soft breaths.

A comfortable silence lingered over the estate, safe for Alfred who was probably doing all kinds of things already. You'd urged for him to sleep in today, he deserved a break. But, to your dismay, you knew the man and he couldn't just sit and relax even if he was chained to the chair. Well, as long as he enjoyed whatever he had to do you wouldn't complain.

Your slightly parted lips were pressed right above his heart, gently brushing the cozy fabric of his shirt with every breath. One of your arms was slung over his waist, your fingertips gliding over his back in whatever random pattern your wrist decided to carry out. It was a soothing gesture, making Bruce hum sleepily as he pressed his lips to the top of your head, your hair tickling his face.

His arms tightened around you, making it clear that he didn't want to leave the bed either. He felt like he had been put in chains, in a loving and warm way, not in a constricting and controlling manner. The chains that were your love and affection kept him tied down, sinking into the soft sheets, with an even softer you in his grip.

"Don't ever wanna leave this bed..." you mumbled into his chest. A drowsy smile tugged at Bruce's lips as maneuvered you closer so your legs were intertwined.

"I don't either... never wanna be without you." He sighed, feeling the familiar and gentle call of sleep.

"Wanna sink into the mattress, let it swallow us whole."

Your husband chuckled softly. Lack of sleep and early mornings did tend to bring out the poet in you.

"You can tell me all about that in, say... 4 hours?" His words were jumbled, the heavy fog of slumber taking over his brain. It took you a minute to put together what he said, as your own brain was still neatly tucked in its own metaphorical bed.

The furrow in your brows softened when you understood what he was trying to tell you, and you pulled the blanket tighter around the both of you.

"Very, very good idea."

Soon enough, you slipped back into colorful dreams, safely tucked against Bruce's chest.

.·:*¨༺ ༻¨*:·.

A strange feeling that settled in Bruce's bones is what woke him up. It wasn't an unpleasant feeling by all means, it was just... odd. A peculiar buzz in his skull, that slowly trickled down into his spine. It was euphoric almost, making him hazy about his surroundings but too aware of every nerve in his body.

His shirt was soft, too soft, and the buttons on the pillowcase dug uncomfortably into his ribcage. The sliver of sun that managed to sneak its way through the thick curtains fell directly on his face.

His nose scrunched up as the blinding light slowly burned his eyes. Yet the warming and comforting feeling on his cheeks made him stay in place, taking in the new day instead of pulling the covers over his face.

He shifted slightly, shivering when a cool sensation set the nerves in his thigh on fire. The sight of your hand, your married hand, on his leg, made a fire ignite in his stomach that was so ravenous and destructive it could've turned him to ash from the inside out.

The gleaming of your ring, the ring that he put there, made his heart rush and his cock twitch in his briefs.

"Been waiting for you to wake up." With a sweet smile playing on your lips and a certain glint in your pretty eyes that he'd seen many times before, you stroked your thumb over his skin. Your touch made his breath hitch ever so slightly, which didn't go unnoticed by you. It never did.

You were able to read Bruce like an open book, all the tricks he'd acquired over the years and used on the public to shift his image didn't work on you. They never really had, even from the beginning. For some odd reason, that he couldn't explain, you could see right through him.

"Hm, yeah? Could've just woken me up, honey. You're my wife now, after all." Bruce grinned, a strong arm sneaking around your back and pressing you flush against his chest. Your cheeks were on fire. That word still flustered you to the high heavens, and you reckoned it would for a little while.

"It would've been a shame to wake you. You looked like you were crafted by the gods." You whispered softly, pressing your lips to his in a tender but hungry kiss. Bruce melted into you, his eyes fluttering shut as he lost himself in the feeling of his lips on yours, moving gracefully against each other. With heavy breaths, puffy lips and glazed eyes you severed your connection.

"The sun sitting on your cheekbones," your fingertips traced over his face in such a gentle manner, one could assume you were afraid of breaking his peacefulness.

"And on your lips," your thumb swiped over his bottom lip, which curled up into a smile.

"Down your neck... it would've been a crime to break such beauty."

Your hand settled on the back of his neck and gently kneaded his muscles.

"I'm flattered, though no beauty can ever match yours, my love. You will eternally be the universe's rose, blooming in all your glory no matter if the sun shines or not."

"You need to stop reading all those books Alfred recommends to you." You giggled, an obvious blush on your face.

"I don't think I will." He smirked before capturing your lips in a kiss again. It was desperate and full of passion, making you sigh softly against his mouth. His hands became needy, grabbing at the fat of your hips. Bruce trailed his kisses over your cheeks, to your jaw and down your neck, sucking and gently biting at your skin.

You moaned quietly, your body sinking into the sheets at the feeling of his lips against your skin. Grabbing at the hem of his white shirt, you swiftly pulled it over his head, revealing his mouth-watering physique to you. The hand that had been resting on his thigh up until this point now cupped the tent in his briefs, stroking gently but with a firm hand.

He groaned into your shoulder, squeezing you tighter.

"None of that, baby, look at me." You cooed softly, gripping the hair at the base of his skull and gently pulling him away from your neck. Your hand dipped into his underwear and gave his cock a few strokes before shoving his briefs down his thighs.

Never breaking eye contact, you licked a fat stripe over your palm, guiding your hand down to his dick and rubbing at the tip. His lips parted slightly and few throaty groans left him.

"J-Jesus Christ, sweetheart, your hands really are magic." He breathed out, his head tipping forward just a smidge as you found a steady pace with your hand wrapped around him.

"Only for you, always for you.." you whispered against his cheek, feeling his breathing speed up. His hands were digging into your hips by this point as you circled the tip of his cock with your thumb, his pre-cum and your spit slicking him perfectly.

When you ran your finger over the underside of his shaft, against the bulging vein, pretty moans spilled from his lips as he approached his high. But before he could float on that cloud of bliss, you retracted your hand and left him hanging on the edge. His eyes were hazy and filled with need and desperation as he let out a frustrated groan.

"You're gonna regret that, little minx." Bruce smirked, but there was a fire in his eyes that made the heat in your belly boil over.

"Will I?" You challenged with a wicked smile, making him chuckle before smashing your lips together and silencing any further comment you might've made.

He pushed you onto your back and quickly pulled your nightgown over your head before sliding your panties down your legs.

Bruce's hands were placed on your inner thighs, pushing your knees further apart. He groaned at the sight of your glistening cunt, pupils swallowing the brown of his irises whole. Your naked form isn't something he hadn't seen before, but his mind was foggy with emotions of all kinds; the golden sunlight that painted your skin, the way your hair fell into your face, and that sparkly diamond on your finger making his heart swell in his chest.

You were his, through and through, and he never doubted it, but to see that solid piece of evidence sitting so nicely on your ringfinger made something stir in him; something primal, almost.

His hands trailed to your waist, kneading your flesh, as he leaned forward to be closer to you.

"I'd eat you till morning, honey, but I need to be inside you." You could tell that he was trying to hide the urgency and need in his voice, blanketing it in a soft and loving tone.

"I need you inside. Please, my love." You begged needily, wrapping your legs around his waist and pulling him in until his dick was prodding at your entrance.

"Besides," you whispered when his head found its place in the crook of your neck,"you can always have me for breakfast later."

With an amused huff, he slowly pushed inside of you, filling you up delightfully.

"You'll be the death of me." Bruce groaned, intertwining your fingers on both hands and pressing his forehead to yours.

Your beautiful moans echoed softly in the bedroom when he started to slowly thrust his hips into yours.

The movement knocked the breath from your lungs every single time, your nerves tingling with a sizzling fire that crawled up your spine. He sped up his thrusts, moaning and groaning against your lips.

You pressed your hand against his chest to slow him down again.

"Slow, slow... wanna feel every part of you."

You could've sworn you heard the faintest whimper escape his throat, gripping your hands tighter has his cock dragged along your walls. You could feel every ridge and bump, your head lolling to the side in bliss.

With languid and deep thrusts, Bruce continued to bring the both of you to the edge of your ecstasy. As your moans got louder, you reached for the hand with his ring on it and gently placed it around your neck.

Your husband shifted his weight so he wouldn't fall on top of you, but there was a hint of concern in his eyes. You placed your ringed hand on top of his and gave it a reassuring squeeze.

You just wanted him to gently hold your throat, wanting to feel the cold metal against your burning skin.

"You won't hurt me, I promise. Jus' need you to hold me- fuck!" You cried out at a particularly deep thrust, squeezing your eyes shut and digging your nails into the back of Bruce's hand.

"Look at you. My pretty fucking wife. All mine. I made you mine, and everyone knows. They just need to look at that pretty diamond ring on your finger." His voice dropped an octave, and his words were almost a growl as he plunged in and out of you.

"You're s'good to me, honey. The perfect husband f'me." You moaned, your lips clumsily brushing against his as he panted on top of you.

"God, I love you." He grunted, his movement becoming sloppy as he was nearing his climax. You could feel the bliss gnawing at your limbs as well. Bruce trailed his hand between your bodies and circled your puffy clit, which only made you succumb to the pleasure faster.

"F-Fuck- oh my god, I'm so close!" You almost screeched, trying to ground yourself with him in any way you could.

"Come f'me, yeah?" He heaved, struggling to get the words out between his groans. Any more moans and cries were muffled as his lips greedily found yours, the tip of his cock hitting that spongy spot inside of you over and over again.

With a a strategic swipe over your clit and a well timed thrust, your orgasm crashed into you, jumbled 'I love you's falling from your lips as Bruce spilled inside of you with your name on his lips. The hand around your throat tightened only a little bit, prolonging your high that much longer as bliss clouded your brain.

Bruce gently lowered himself on top of you, steadying his breathing against your chest. You were catching your breath as well, tracing patterns on his bare back. He was still nestled deep inside of you. He rolled the two of you over so you were on top of him, your cheek pressed against his shoulder as you relaxed in his arms.

"I love you so much." You mumbled, eyes falling shut. You didn't know what time it was, but it didn't matter to you. You had nowhere to be except right here, snuggled against your husband.

"I love you too, sweetheart. Are you alright? D'you need anything?" he asked softly, pressing kisses to the top of your head.

"Hm, no. Jus' wanna stay like this. Maybe take a nap." You yawned, making Bruce chuckle.

"Do you need anything?" You questioned in return, placing a kiss to

his shoulder. "I could use a nap as well." He laughed softly, pulling the covers over the both of you.

"Good. Cus' I'm not getting up." You sighed, letting yourself be loved by him. His hands lazily ran through your hair, lulling you to sleep.

"Sweet dreams, baby." He whispered against your hairline, coaxing a sleepy smile onto your lips.

"You too, my love."

Both of you drifted off with the sun high up in the sky, not a care in the world that it was well past noon. Your hearts beating in sync, your soft breathing mimicking each other and connected deeper and closer as ever, the bonds of your love shinning in the dwindling sunlight with your hands intertwined.

If Bruce could make you wear his heart, he would, but for now the diamond ring would have to do.

You were his and he was yours. The perfect balance of love.

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《Taglist》: @certifiedredhoodlover @allysunny

Let me know if you want to be added! <3

[starsinthesky5]

you are in love II || joe burrow x reader

description: you and joe navigate life once you move in together. everyday feels like a dream with him

a/n: requested part 2 to my first fic :) this was super fun to write!! i am so sorry for how long this is LMAO. i just couldn’t stop writing this one and it felt good to write all this because of my first ever fic. writing has been so much fun and thank you all so much for the love and support <3

also, i can say with a fact that joe is joe-ing right now and im so-

no thoughts head empty 😁

part 1  part 3

warnings: smutttt, language, y’all are horny horny…

word count: 12.3 k (again, i am so sorry HAHA)

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February 

The sounds of rumbling thunder woke you up fairly early Saturday morning. Your eyes fluttered open as you looked over at the clock, it was 8 am, a little too early for your liking. You felt a pile of weight on you and looked down to be met with your adorable boyfriend wrapped around your torso. His head was lying on your chest and his arms were loosely wrapped around your waist, and he was fast asleep. Joe usually wasn’t a clingy sleeper, you were, so this was a little peculiar for him. Sure, you guys would cuddle all the time, but you would usually stay like that throughout the night, or you would end up on his chest. But last night it seemed he had moved onto your chest, and you weren’t complaining because you felt so warm and cozy. 

You raked your fingers through his dirty blonde hair, which he had been growing out, so pulling on the strands was even more fun than it usually was. You looked around the room, taking in your surroundings. You were in Joe’s bed, which was now yours, and were in his room, which was also now yours. You looked over to the TV table in front of you, which was decorated with numerous photos of you and Joe from over the past year that he had filled his room with. Some photos from your adventures together, some photos of you both before his football games, and some photos that only the two of you had seen from special moments in your relationship. When you first saw all the pictures he had in his room, your heart soared. You didn’t think he was such a softie but he loved to display your relationship anywhere and everywhere he could. There were a few boxes scattered throughout the big room. You were in the process of moving your stuff into Joe’s house, so there were a lot of things around the room at the moment. 

“This is the life,” you whisper to yourself as you press a light kiss to his forehead, which ends up waking him. He moved around a little before opening his eyes and you immediately shut yours so he wouldn’t notice that you’re the reason why he woke up. You stayed incredibly still as he lifted his head from your chest, pressing soft kisses around the exposed skin of your collarbone because of your tank top before moving up and pressing a few soft kisses to your lips.

“Morning, Baby,” he says, pressing another kiss to your soft lips. His raspy morning voice and bedhead look always made you spiral. There was no reason for him to be this hot this early in the morning. 

You opened one of your eyes to take a peek at him, then both. “How did you know I was awake?”.

“I’ve been awake for the past 20 minutes,” he laughed. “I just didn’t feel like getting up and waking you up. But it seems like you’re awake,”.

“That I am,” you say, giving him a lazy smile.

“Ready for another day of moving into Casa Burrow?” He says as he gets up and moves next to you, pulling you into his chest. 

“Is that what we’re calling it now?” You say while patting his chest as he begins to play with your soft hair.

“Unless you can come up with a better name, then yes,”.

“Casa Burrow it is,” you smile as you press a kiss to his neck. 

He lets out a sigh before pulling you closer so that you are on top of him, just like how he was on you earlier. 

“What’s with the sigh?” You ask. 

“I don’t wanna get up,” he groans. “The rainy day vibes and this comfy bed are making it really hard to want to be productive today,”. 

“Just be glad we’re doing this after the season’s over and not trying to do it during the season, shit would be so chaotic,”. Although Joe had mentioned you living with him in December, you had slowly moved your stuff in but had been officially living with him since the end of January. You wanted to wait till the season was over so that it wouldn’t be too much for him to handle. 

“That is true,” he says. 

“Well, we have to be productive today if we wanna get rid of all these boxes,” you giggle while looking up at Joe. His icy blue eyes met yours and instantly set off fireworks in your belly. He looks absolutely sexy right now and you needed him, which gave you an idea. 

You moved your legs so that they were straddling his hips and sat up. His hands naturally navigated around your waist. “Butttt, we don’t have to be productive until a little later,” you tease while moving your hands across his bare chest. 

“Oh yeah?” He smirks. “What are you suggesting we do in the meantime?” He asks while slipping his fingers into the bottom of your tank top.

“Hmm, maybe a rep of our favorite workout,” you say as you press a slow and sensual kiss on his lips. 

“Sounds good to me,” he whispers as he peels off your tank top. A few minutes later, both of your clothes are on the floor and you’re caught up in a messy heated kiss. 

Your wetness was seeping onto his impressive erection as he moved your hips so that you were grinding down on him. 

“Mmph, Joe,” you whimpered into the kiss. His hand navigated to the back of your head, pushing you deeper into the kiss. You moved your hand so that you were cupping his face and started to suck on his bottom lip, making Joe moan into the kiss. A few seconds later, you pulled away and sat up. 

“You ready?” You smiled. 

“Always,” he said as he patted the sides of your hips.

You lined yourself up with his cock, your core was slick with arousal which made it easy for him to slide inside. You let out a loud moan as he moved deeper and deeper into your core, eventually reaching the hilt. “Joey,” you moaned. 

“Fuck, Y/N,” he grunted. 

You pressed your palms against his chest and started to move your hips, getting straight to business. At first, you moved slowly but eventually picked up the pace. Sounds of skin-hitting skin filled the room as you started to ride him faster and harder. 

“Y/N, you feel so good,” he moaned as he dug his head back into the pillow. He was having the time of his life right now. The love of his life was fucking him into oblivion and looked absolutely gorgeous while doing so. Your hair was disheveled but flawless. Your ample breasts were bouncing with each movement, giving him the perfect opportunity to play with them. He moved his hand to your right breast, giving it a soft squeeze before running his thumb across your sensitive bud. 

“Fuck,” you moaned as you threw your head back. You leaned back, placed your hands on the sides of his legs, and began to slide up and down his length, causing another moan to come from his lips. 

“You like that?” You teased, knowing exactly what you were doing by saying that. His eyes widened at your question. That was often something Joe would say during sex, and it always drove you crazy because of how hot he sounded while saying it. Now it was your turn to make him go crazy. 

He immediately sat up and reached out for you, grabbing your waist and flipping you over so he was on top. He was still inside you and started to thrust into your wet heat.

“Hey,” you said breathlessly. “It was my turn,”.

“Nope. I wanna make you feel good and that’s my thing,” he said, referring to your teasing while pushing his face into the crook of your neck and sucking on the soft skin. You felt as if you were floating on a cloud of ecstasy. Every caress, every touch, every kiss sent shivers down your spine and made you moan with delight.

You didn’t have the energy to argue with him so you just laid back and let him go at it. You moved your hands into his hair, pulling at the strands so he would move his head from your neck and back to your lips. You pulled him in for a short kiss before you let out another moan. You could feel the pleasure building inside of you, begging to be released.

“Fuck, I’m close,” you whimpered. Joe began pounding into your core, harder and harder with each well-placed thrust. Your breath came out in short gasps as he pushed you deeper into the bed with each strong thrust. You looked down to where you two were connected, watching as Joe’s impressive length left an imprint on your lower belly each time he thrusts into you. 

“Just like that,” you moan and your eyes roll to the back of your head. Every thrust caused a wet squelching sound to fill your bedroom along with both your breathy moans. 

“You’re so good,” he moaned as he began to slow his thrusts, allowing you to take control once again. You mustered enough energy, grabbed both his upper arms, and pushed him to the side so you were back on top. 

“Holy Shit,” he moaned as you started bouncing on his cock. “Fuck, I love you,”.

A smile crept up your face, “I love you,” you moaned as your hands went back to his chest. He began to thrust up into your pussy as you felt your walls begin to tighten around his cock. 

“You’re doing so good my love,” He whimpered as his grip on your hips tightened. You leaned down and continued to move your hips, your pace getting faster and faster until you felt the rubber band in your belly snap. “Cum for me baby,” he says, feeling your walls clench around his cock. Your head dropped down to his neck while he continued to thrust into you as you reached your high, his arms wrapping around your back, holding you so incredibly close. 

“Joe, F- Fuck,” you whimpered into his ear, feeling your high just as he was about to reach his. 

A few rough thrusts later, you felt him shoot his load inside of you, “Fuck, Y/N,” he cried out. You pressed kisses around his collarbone as you lifted your head from the crook of his neck and moved a few of his messy curls out of his eyes. You press a few more kisses around his face before finding his lips and pulling him in for a soft kiss. Both of you spend a few minutes catching your breaths and whispering sweet nothings into each other's ears. “You are unreal,” he says, giving you a lethargic smile. 

“I don’t think I can walk,” you whisper as you drop your head into the crook of his neck. 

“That’s always a positive sign that the workout worked,” he laughs.

“Look at us being productive,” you giggled.

“I thought the whole point of this was to not be productive,” He said as his hand slid up and down your back.

“Well, it was. But with us, procrastinating is pretty much impossible. We’re workhorses in our own right. Star QB and multi-award-winning singer-songwriter? Yeah, procrastination is not in our dictionary,” You smile before getting up and carefully moving off of him. He lets out a soft groan as you leave him bare and cold on the bed. 

“Mmm, Come back,” he says, making adorable grabby hands towards you.

“Ah ah ah,” you shake your head. “Time to be productive for real, we got a lot to do today,” you say as you throw a towel toward him before grabbing your own. 

“Is this an invitation to shower with you?” He hopes.

“Nope,” you laugh. “Give me 15 minutes and then you can go. No funny business for right now,” you wink as you grab some clothes and walk into the bathroom. You shut the door, smiling softly at what your new life was looking like. 

Sure you’d miss LA and New York, but it wasn’t goodbye forever. You just needed somewhere grounded where you could spend the majority of your time, and both of those places were definitely not it. You loved those places and everything the cities had to offer, especially for your career, but it just got too suffocating for you. Meeting Joe was like a breath of fresh air you so desperately needed. And now being with him, spending every day with him, felt like a dream. 

Meanwhile, in the bedroom, Joe was staring up at the ceiling. Normally he would do this when he was bored, but this time he wasn’t bored; his thoughts kept him occupied. Thoughts about you, specifically. Now that you had moved in with him, he was giddy at the thought of getting to wake up to your beautiful face every morning and kiss you goodnight every night. He was so excited to be able to have you with him all the time now, getting countless ideas of what you guys could do together around the city and Ohio. 

A little later, you come out from the steamy bathroom, drying your wet hair with a towel. Joe was sitting up on the bed, looking through one of your songbooks. He looks up and immediately closes the book as if he got caught with his hand in the cookie jar.

“No no, go ahead,” you giggle as you take a seat on the fluffy ottoman next to the bed, which happens to be one of your many new additions to his home. 

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to pry,” he says.

“You’re not prying, Joe. Besides, if I remember the book correctly, that one is filled with shit about you,” you say as you grab the book and open it up.

“Really?” He says as his face turns red.

“Mhm,” you smile as you flip through the pages.

“So is this where you write your songs?” He asks.

“Mmm, kind of? I consider this as an anything book honestly. There are some pages filled with full verses and songs, but some pages with just 2 lyrics on them and some thoughts,”.  

“Ohhh, cool cool,” he says as he runs his fingers through his hair.

“Here, let me show you,” you say as you get off the ottoman and back onto the bed next to him, opening the book to a few pages. 

—

3rd album–

song title: slut!

And I break down, then he's pullin' me in In a world of boys, he's a gentleman

08/03: he just knows exactly how to calm me down when those anxiety inducing thoughts fill my head. he never complains when I shut down, instead he comforts me and tells me it’ll be alright, nobody has ever done that for me. he’s the sweetest boy gentleman I have ever met. 

3rd album–

song title: daylight

And I can still see it all (In my mind) All of you, all of me (Intertwined) I once believed love would be (Black and white) But it's golden (Golden) And I can still see it all (In my head) Back and forth from New York (Sneaking in your bed) I once believed love would be (Burning red) But it's golden

12/14: he told me he loved me. and i said it back. everything he touches turns to gold, including me and our love. it’s golden.

3rd album–

song title: I can see you

Chorus: 'Cause I can see you waitin' down the hall from me And I could see you up against the wall with me And what would you do, baby, if you only knew? That I can see you

Bridge: I could see you in your suit and your necktie Passed me a note saying, "Meet me tonight" Then we kiss, and you know I won't ever tell, yeah And I could see you being my addiction You can see me as a secret mission Hide away and I will start behaving myself

07/05: i met a guy last night.

—

“Damn, that last one was pretty short and simple,” he laughs. 

“That’s because those feelings didn’t need to be described in depth. The song pretty much sums up the things that filled my head that night,” You laugh as you close the book and place it back on the nightstand. 

“I can see that,” he says, a little shy after reading the things you had said about him. “Someone was a little worked up,” he laughed.

“You mean feeling like I wanted to jump your bones right then and there? Well when I spend the entire party next to this gorgeous, sexy, and hilarious quarterback, that’s a given,”. 

You look over at him and see that he’s trying to hold back a huge smile, “Awww, is someone feeling shy?” you tease. 

He turns his head to meet your soft eyes, “The way you write about me, about us,” his hand cupping your cheek. “You’re so talented. I mean, I’ve never seen anything like this before,”. 

Your heart flutters at his praise as you run your fingers over his thigh. “I love you,” you say. 

“I love you so much,” he says before leaning in and pressing a gentle kiss on your slightly swollen lips. 

“So all of those were for the new album?” He asks as he gets off the bed, wandering into the closet to pick out some clothes. He opts for his usual black sweatpants and a white Nike tee. 

“Yup,” You say as you get up and walk over to the stack of boxes titled ‘room’. You pulled out a few more picture frames that had photos of you and Joe. You turned around and saw that he already had tons of photos of you both around the room so you weren’t sure where to put yours. 

“We can probably put those in the living room if that’s cool with you?” He asks as he walks back out to the bedroom.

“Fair enough, I completely forgot how many photos you had already,” you chuckled. 

“Can’t help it, we’re too photogenic and our photos always come out amazing. It just fits. Anyways, back to the album. So should I expect my comment section to be filled with ‘Oh my god is this song about you’ in a few months?” He smiles. 

“Probably. It’s been a great 8 months of kinda hiding from the public but I think it’ll be blatantly obvious that we’re together together once I fully pop out at these games and start posting from here,” you giggle. 

You and Joe had a pretty private relationship. There was no real confirmation that you two were dating, however, there were rumors and speculation which was a given considering who he was and who you were. You had shown up at the games in January and people did notice, but nobody knew what was going on for sure. Now that you had moved in together, it would become pretty clear to everyone that you both were in a serious and committed relationship and it wasn’t just a momentary fling.

“We’ve hid long enough, besides it’ll be great to actually have you next to me at all the events and stuff from now on. I can’t with the randos trying to flirt with me, they gotta know I’m already spoken for,” he smiles.

“I’ve been looking forward to marking my territory,” you tease. “Anyways, go shower,” you say, lightly pushing his chest. 

“Trynna get rid of me?” He teases.

“Mmm not really. Just wanna get the smell of sex off of you,” you laugh.

“Well I’ll be smelling like sex again later,” he says, staring deep into your eyes once again.

“Then we’ll shower again. I’m gonna head downstairs and make some breakfast. You good with smoothies?” you ask as you walk backward to the door. 

“Yes ma’am,” he says.

“Perfect,” you smile back. 

“Have funnn,” he sing songs before heading into the bathroom. 

An hour later, You and Joe are sitting at the kitchen island together, drinking your delicious fruit smoothies, and talking about some more house stuff. The sounds of thunder and heavy rain fill the house as you talk. 

“Mmm, this smoothie is so good,” Joe groans. “Your smoothies are always the best,”. 

“Thank you,” you say, taking another sip of the fruity beverage.

“So with the house, since I just moved in a month ago, I wanna do some renovations and since we’re living together, I want your input too,” he says, putting his smoothie down. 

“Okay, what do you have in mind?”. 

“I was thinking we re-do the backyard area in time for summer, maybe add a pool-house and re-do some of the landscaping,”.

“Ooo,” you say. An idea fills your head as you think about the backyard, “Can I plant a garden in the spring?” You ask eagerly.

“Anything you want. It’s your house too,” he smiles.

“Yay! What else do you have in mind?”.

“I was thinking about redoing our bathroom too, just to make it more up to our liking. The same with the basement. I was thinking we could make it into a game room/hangout zone,”.

“That sounds amazing,” you say, finishing up your smoothie. “We can put a bunch of football stuff from over the years down there, put a bunch of cool stuff on the walls, all the game equipment can go down there too,” you say. “Full-on man cave,”. You get up and place your smoothie cup in the sink before walking back over to him, taking a seat on the counter, your legs dangling.

He shakes his head before saying, “Nah, not a man cave. I want you to have your stuff down there too. We can put a bunch of ‘you’ related stuff on the walls too if we’re gonna make a football wall. I was thinking since the basement is absolutely massive, we could build a little home studio for you down there,”. 

Your stomach fills with butterflies as your eyes soften. “Really?”.

“100%. Like I said, this is your place too,” he says while getting up and putting his cup in the sink. 

“You’re amazing, you know that right?” You said, making grabby hands towards him. He walks over to you as you spread your legs open. He moved in between them as you wrapped your arms around his neck and pulled him in for a hug. His warm body acting has a cozy blanket for you. 

“You’ve told me that many times, so yes, but I don’t mind hearing it again,” he laughs. You two are wrapped up in a warm hug, when suddenly a loud bang fills the house, causing you both to jump. 

“Mmm, I just love the rain,” you say. It was true though, you loved rainstorms. Something about the pitter-patter of the rain against the windows made you so incredibly relaxed. The gloomy weather was tranquilizing. 

“And I love you,” he says, pressing a kiss to your cheek before moving out of your embrace. “Now let’s go unpack,” he says, putting out his hand to help you off the counter. 

You spend the rest of the morning unpacking the last few boxes you had lying around in the living room. A lot of decor and personal additions to the house were left, so you were carefully placing them around the house. The majority of the unpacking of the important things already happened so now you were just finishing up. 

“What’s in this box?” Joe asks, tapping the top of it. 

“Those might be all my music-related awards and stuff,”. 

He grabs the box and walks over to the shelf around the corner without saying anything. You let go of the box you were holding and follow him to see what he was up to. 

“What are you doing?” You ask.

You watch as he puts the box on the floor, opens it up, and pulls out a few of your awards.

“Putting them on the special display shelf, obviously,” he laughs.

“But this is yours?” You say looking over at the shelf. This was where Joe displayed all his football accolades. A few football awards from high school, and a bunch from college, including the natty and his ring. Under those was his AFC championship trophy and his Comeback Player of the Year award, the spot next to it was specifically reserved for the Lombardi he’d be looking to add in the next year. A few various awards from other football-related things were also around the case. 

“It’s ours,” he corrects, placing your Grammy for Album of the Year on the shelf. 

“Right, ours,” you smile. Joe always made sure that you knew that this was all yours just as much as it was his. You were a little hesitant around the house just because you felt that it was his and you were mooching off of him, but he made sure to correct you every time. 

You let him decorate the shelf with your various accolades, stepping back and watching him work his magic. 

“And I think that should be it,” He said, looking into the box to see if he missed anything. You walked back over to him and hugged him from behind, “It looks great, Joey. Thank You,”. 

“You’re welcome, Babe. How many more boxes do we have left?” He asks, walking over to the living room, you still holding on to him and moving with him. 

“Mmmm, I think maybe 3 more? The boxes upstairs in your-”.

“Our,” Joe interrupts. 

“Sorry, Our Room shouldn’t take that long to unpack since there’s like 4 more boxes with just clothes and some other random things. We can probably do those tonight,”. 

“Sounds good. And it looks like we’re almost done over here too,” He says, looking over at the 2 boxes left.

“Yup,” you say while letting go of him. “There’s like 3 more in the basement that we can do after,”.

“If we’re down there, we should play a round of ping pong,” he says, opening up the last two boxes which had a mix of kitchen stuff and living room decorations.

“You’re on, Burrow,” you giggle as you reach over to empty the boxes.

He grabs your hand and softly pushes it away, “I got these. You should find a spot for our sexy photos that we couldn’t fit in our room,” he smiles.

“Sexy? You’re funny,” you laugh as you walk over to the couch to pick up the photos. There were 3 photos you had to find places for. 

“But it’s true,” he says while carefully placing a few wall accents around the room. “We’re both hot therefore the pictures are sexy,” he says looking back at you. The first one was a photo of you two from your brother’s Wedding, you both were sitting at the table together hand in hand, a huge grin on your faces from the many cocktails you had, but also because of the pure happiness you felt with each other.

The second photo was taken by your Mom, a sweet and innocent one. You had brought Joe to your family’s house for the first time, a few weeks before the start of the season, and fell asleep in each other’s arms while watching a movie together. Your family had come home to the two of you in your own world, and you remembered a special conversation between you and your Mom about you and Joe. 

Flashback to last September

You sat down on the porch chair next to your Mom with a glass of your Mom’s freshly squeezed lemonade, taking a sip of the bitter yet sweet drink. You had been looking forward to some 1 on 1 time with your Mom since Joe had gone out with your Dad and Brother to get stuff for the family get-together party you were having tomorrow night. 

“Mmm, just like how I remembered it,” you groan. 

“Glad you like it, sweetie,” she smiles, taking a sip of her lemonade. 

“It feels good to be home,” you say. 

“It’s good to have you home. And it’s great to have Joe here as well. You both looked cozy today,” she smiles.

“Dang, straight to it,” you giggled.

“Well, when I come home to my daughter asleep and cuddling her boyfriend on the couch, looking absolutely lost in their own world, yes I’ll get straight to the point,” she says, patting your thigh. 

“And your point is?” You say, taking another sip of your lemonade. 

“You look happy. Truly satisfied,” your Mom says, her eyes filled with joy. “The happiest I’ve seen you in a long time,”. 

You look down at your hands, fidgeting with the bracelet Joe had given you with both your birthstones on it. “Yeah,” you smile. “I am,”. 

“He’s a really nice boy,” she adds. “Very kind, respectful, caring, natural, handsome. You seem so relaxed around him too,”.

“Momm,” you say while covering your face with your hands. 

She laughs as she watches you struggle to hide your blush and smile, “But most importantly, he adores you. The way he looks at you reminds me of how your father looked at me when we first started dating. The look of pure & young love,” she says. 

“He is great isn’t he?” You say, falling back into your chair and staring up at the blue sky. “He’s like a breath of fresh air on a stuffy humid day. He just gets me on a level no one ever has before and he treats me like I’m the only girl in the world,”. 

“I can’t wait to show him around town and do the things I used to do out here with him,” you add. 

Your mom stays silent for a few seconds, prompting you to turn your head to face her. “What?” You laugh. “What’s with the stare?”. 

“You’re in love,” your Mom teases, giving you a sincere smile. 

Your eyes widened as she continued to stare at you. “Mom, we just started dating,” You told her.

“And? What have I told you, Y/N? When you know, you know. We all know and it’s about time you realized it too,” she laughs. 

“You just met him this week,” you said, slightly surprised that she was saying all this to you. 

“I know but I’ve never seen you this way about a boy before, this time around it’s different. I see the way you look at him and the way he acts around you. It’s extraordinary. None of your previous relationships have had this effect on you. Also, might be my personal bias since we’re a football family, but Joe is my favorite,”. 

You stopped to think about what she was saying and she was right about it all. You really haven’t been this way about a boy before. He made you feel things you’ve never felt before and in the short time you’ve been together, he’s made this better than any of your previous relationships. It was a different effect this time, and it was all because of him. 

End of flashback 

The third photo was from a vacation you took last August to the Florida Keys after you saw your family, you’re both in a hammock on the beach, you are sprawled out on Joe’s large body as his left arm is looped around your bare stomach and his right arm is holding up the vintage camera to take a photo of you both. He’s pressing a kiss onto your cheek as your hands are reaching up to grab the camera. He captured the perfect photo, both of you in your most natural state as you were caught mid-laugh and his lips were pressed against your skin with a smile.

Flashback to the end of October – Bengals bye week

“I needed this,” you sigh as you lean against Joe’s bare chest. You both were curled up together on a hammock on the beach in front of the house Joe had rented for the week. You spent the afternoon in the water together and took a little break before preparing for dinner. 

“It was nice that we could do this during the bye. I can’t remember the last time I spent a bye week somewhere other than the couch,” he says, sliding his hand up and down your upper thigh. 

“Which, by the way, will change,” you say while looking up at him. 

“Well, that’s good. I need more downtime, especially with my favorite person,” he says, pressing kisses to your bare shoulder.

“Joe,” you laugh, throwing your head to the side.

“What?” He says, still pressing kisses along your shoulder and now neck. His arm loops around your waist and moves his fingers around the soft skin of your abdomen.

“That tickles,” you giggle. He begins to move around in the hammock, causing it to swing back and forth. “Joe, we’re going to fall,” you scream.

“I got you,” he assures as he holds you tighter. He reaches down onto the sand to grab the Vintage Camera you’d been using to take pictures during the trip and brings it up to him. 

“What’re you doing?” You ask, still laughing because his soft fingers were still moving around your sensitive stomach and that was where you were most ticklish. 

“Taking a picture obviously,” he states, turning the camera on with his free hand and turning it to face you.

“Absolutely not! I look like I got hit by a bus,” you say while you try to reach up for the camera but he pulls it away further from you. Of course, he had long arms. 

“You look hot,” he says, pressing more kisses along your skin, a huge smile on his face. “This bikini is really making it hard for me to not keep you in bed all day," He couldn’t be happier right now. He was lying on the beach with his adorable, smart, talented, and gorgeous girlfriend. He couldn’t believe that this was real, that you were real. The night you first met, he thought you were a figment of his imagination but that turned out to be false as you were 100% real and 100% stole his heart. 

“Lies,” you say while making grabby hands at the camera. He manages to snap a few photos while you’re actively trying to grab the camera out of his hands, but you eventually accept defeat and smile for the camera. 

He lowers the camera after a few moments to take a look at the photos, his hand now sliding up and down your belly.  He swiped through the first few photos and grinned. “These are perfect,”. 

You lifted your head a little higher to get a glimpse of the photos and smiled at the funny yet adorable picture. His lips pressed to your skin, you caught mid-laugh, and an invisible cloud showering you both with love. The photo captured you both in your most natural state and it was beautiful. “Hm, I guess I don’t look that disheveled,”. 

“Not at all, but you will later once we’re back in that gigantic bed and under those covers,” he whispers in your ear, sending chills down your spine. 

“Oh really?” you ask, turning around in his arms so that your stomach is pressed against his. 

“Mhm,” he says as his hand navigates to your ass, giving it a soft squeeze. 

“Well, we have a little more time till dinner. Why don’t you make me look disheveled so that I can get presentable, and then make me look disheveled again after dinner?” you tease, ending your sentence with a slow and needy kiss. You feel his arms snake around your waist while he moves to get off the hammock. Laughter fills the air as your legs wrap around his body as he gets up off the hammock and carries you inside, your cheek pressed against his shoulder as you soak in the moment. 

End of flashback 

“Hey, you alright?” Joe asks as he rubs your shoulder from behind you; he snapped you out of your daze which you didn’t know how long you were in. 

“Yeah, I was just caught up looking at our sexy photos,” You smile. 

“See I told you,” he said, pressing a kiss to the nape of your neck.

“Now I just gotta find somewhere to put these,” you say, looking around the room to find a spot. 

“Here, let me,” he says, grabbing the photos from your hand. You watch as he places one on the TV table, then one in the kitchen, and places the last one on the table by the door. 

“That wasn’t so hard,” you said as you sat on the couch to take a breather. 

“Not at all,” he smiles as he takes a seat next to you. He places his arm behind you and his hand rests on your shoulder, running his thumb up and down the side. You drop your head into his chest and snuggle a little closer to him, making his hand move down to your waist. 

“You okay?” He asks at the sudden closeness. 

You crane your head up, “Mhm, I just wanna be close to you,” you smile as you press a few kisses to his clothed chest. 

“Fine by me,” he says softly. “So, you enjoying this so far?”. 

“Enjoying what?”.

“Living with me? I hope it’s everything you wanted,” he says. 

“It’s everything and even more,” you say, running your fingers across his chest. “I needed somewhere less suffocating and loud, and this is it,”. You lift your leg up and move so you’re in his lap, his hands letting you do what you want before returning to your waist. “I needed somewhere that felt like home and well, home is where the heart is. And my heart is with you,” you say. 

He looks at you for a few moments, his heart racing and his smile growing bigger by the second. Joe was so happy that you felt this way with him and was relieved that you didn’t regret your decision. He needed you by his side and you needed him as well. 

You had never lived with any of your previous boyfriends, but this time around something was different. It was more promising than your past relationships. Living with him was like putting on the “big girl pants” for real and felt serious. You already knew you both were serious about each other, but this doubled down on that. 

He pulls you in for a hug, wrapping his big hands around your waist and pushing your head into the crook of his neck. 

“I love you,” he mumbles as he presses a kiss to your head.

“Love you too,” you laugh. 

You stay wrapped up in each other's arms for a few minutes, discussing what you should do for dinner tonight and eventually deciding on cooking together. 

“Now let's finish unpacking so we can be free,” you say, moving out of his embrace but still around his hips.

“Orrr, we could stay here? Maybe lose a few clothes while we’re at it,” he smirks.

“Laterrrr. We have a little more to do and then I promise you can do whatever you want,” you say, moving to get off of him. 

You watch as Joe throws his head back into the couch cushion and lets out a dramatic sigh.

“Someone’s horny today,” you tease as you walk backward to the basement door. 

Joe turns his head to you, seeing you walk away, gets off of the couch, and slowly follows you,  “Well when I have this gorgeous, enchanting, kind, adorable, and incredibly sexy girl in my house, it’s kind of hard not to be,”. 

You raise your eyebrows as you walk closer to the door, “Damn. Where is she? Must have missed her,” You question as you grab the door handle. 

“Right in front of me,” Joe laughs, moving closer. You quickly open the door and run down the stairs, Joe closely running behind you. 

“Joe,” you laugh as you run through the basement and try to escape him, but his fast reflexes make it difficult. You make it to the couch in the basement and turn around to see where he is, but bump into his large body in front of you. His hands wrap around your waist and his lips crash down on yours, you melt into the kiss. You always turned into putty when you were in his arms, so this wasn’t new. 

His hand travels to your neck, pulling you deeper into the rough yet passionate kiss. You let out a soft whimper when you feel his other hand travel down to the waistband of your shorts, prompting you to pull away. 

“Joe, we have a few more boxes,” you pant, breathless from the kiss. You stare at his glossy lips covered in cherry lip gloss, wanting to press your lips against his again but knowing you have things to do.

“10 minutes, please,” he pleads. 

You stare at him for a few seconds, watching how impatient he is and feeling a little bad that you made him like this. “Fine, we have all the time in the world for the boxes,” you replied and Joe wrapped his arms around you as soon as you finished talking, launching you both onto the soft couch. 

“Joe,” you laughed as he threw the pillows onto the floor. “I don’t know what we’re doing in 10 minutes but have at it I guess,” you giggle.

“10 minutes to make you feel good, obviously,” he scoffs. 

“Anddd what about you?” You smile as Joe pulls your shorts down, pressing kisses to your inner thighs.

“Later,” he says as he begins to suck on the plush skin of your upper thigh. You let out a soft moan as you feel his lips on your skin and his hand moving up to cup your breast through your shirt. 

He lifts his lips from your thigh and begins to pull your panties down, which happens to be extremely damp. “Damn, wonder what made you so wet?” He smirks.

“He’s sitting right in front of me,” you say as you move up on your elbows, watching him closely. 

He flashes you a smile and starts to peel your panties off, taking his sweet time. You fall back against the couch pillows and feel Joe’s hands spread you open a little more. A few seconds later, you feel his tongue lick a long stripe from your entrance to your clit, sending shivers down your spine. You let out a quiet moan as you push your hand into his hair, pulling on the soft strands. His tongue flicked against your clit in slow, deliberate strokes. You let out a moan as waves of pleasure washed over you, your fingers tangling in his hair as he worked his magic on you.

“Please don’t ever stop,” you moan as Joe’s free hand moves under your shirt to cup your breast. He looked up as he continued to use his skillful tongue to send you to heaven, and saw you struggling to keep your eyes open. He moves back down to your folds and all you can hear are wet slurping sounds from below and your breathy moans. 

“J- Joe,” you struggled to moan as you were seeing stars. 

His hand moves back down to your thigh and down to your leg which he throws over his shoulder. He spends a few minutes fully attacking your soaking folds with kisses and delicate nips, before moving back up to your clit and sucking roughly on the sensitive bud. The movement of his tongue was sending you over the edge.

“Mpmh, Joee,” you moan as your back starts to arch. Joe softly pushes you back down and then you feel one of his fingers enter your core, sending you into overdrive. You feel him pump his finger in and out of your slick core as you continue to moan his name. 

“F- Fuck, Y- You’re so good,” you smile as you start to feel the pleasure building in your belly. He looked back up as he continued to please you and saw your content smile. Only he could make you feel like this, and the thought of only him being able to do this to you forever made him even more ravenous. He sucked on your clit even harder and added another finger into your core. You pulled harder on the strands of his hair, earning a grunt from him that sent vibrations throughout your body. Your free hand gripped the couch as you felt like you were floating on a cloud of euphoria.

“I’m gonna cum,” you moaned. Joe’s hand moved back up to you, searching for your hand. You let go of the couch and grabbed his hand, his fingers entwined with yours. 

Your head filled with thoughts of pleasure and the fact that you were the only girl who could make Joe act so lustfully and passionately. He was all yours and you were all his. 

And then, with a final flick of his tongue and pump of his fingers, you shattered into a million pieces, your orgasm crashing over you in a wave of ecstasy. You cried out his name over and over as you rode the waves of pleasure, your body trembling with the force of it all.

“Joe, Fuck I- I can’t,” you moaned as your legs shook, not being able to finish the sentence or think about anything. 

Joe didn't stop until he had milked every last drop of pleasure from you, his mouth and fingers relentless as they drove you wild with desire. He stayed down for a few more minutes, lapping up the mess you had made, and when he finally pulled away, a satisfied smirk on his face. 

You spend a few minutes catching your breath and you recover from your orgasm. Joe went into the bathroom and grabbed a towel to help clean you up, and after that helped you put your shorts back on. He was lying on your chest right now, his arms wrapped tightly around your waist, and you were twirling his hair with your fingers. 

“That was-” you say.

“Intense?” Joe laughs.

“I think intense is too small of a word to describe that,” you snicker. 

“Well, whatever it was, it tasted and felt like heaven,” he smiled, pressing a few kisses onto your chest. 

“Glad you enjoyed it as well. But I think it’s time to do what we actually came down here for,” you say as you slowly move back up on the couch. 

“I think I agree with you this time. We still have to play that round of ping pong,” he says as he gets off of you. 

“I hope you’re ready to get your ass kicked, Burrow,” you tease as you start to stand up, feeling the aftermath of both what happened this morning and what happened just now. You started to walk towards the boxes, an evident limp in each step, and Joe noticed and walked over to you immediately. 

“Hey, Hey, take it easy. I can unpack the boxes, you go sit on the couch,” he says as he rubs your arm. 

“Are you sure?” you ask.

“Absolutely. Just direct me to where you want everything and relax,” he smiles. 

You walk back over to the couch, grab a throw blanket, and get comfy as you watch him open the boxes. 

“I was thinking that those two walls over there can be the personal accomplishment type walls we were talking about earlier,” you point out.

“Ooo, I like that. Both are facing each other so it’s perfect,” Joe says as he puts your Nintendo Switch right next to his on the game console table. 

“I can work on that later. But I was thinking for yours, we hang up each of your 4 Jerseys, Athens, OSU, LSU, and the Bengals, and put stuff from each era on a little table underneath the jerseys. Maybe even hang up a few photos,” you say as Joe continues to unpack the boxes. 

“Interior designer also on your resume?” He says, looking up at you with a smile. 

“Maybeee,” you grin. 

Joe continues to unpack the rest of the boxes, and you direct him to where you think the various pieces of decor and knick-knacks should go. He leaves 1 box alone as it has a lot of your awards, music memorabilia from over the years, and other career-related items. He said that he would use this to build your little wall of accomplishments, insisting that you two do each others. 

“Is it finally time for Ping Pong?” You smile as you look over and see Joe grabbing the paddles and the balls. 

“Hell yeah,” he smiles. You get up from the couch and make your way over to the table. “You’re on,” you say, getting your game face ready. 

A few minutes later, you and Joe are caught up in an intense game of ping pong. You started off pretty calm and relaxed, softly hitting the ball back and forth. Until Joe decided to trash talk and try a trick shot on you, sending the ball on the side you weren’t standing on, allowing him to score. 

“I am not about to lose,” you said as you slammed the ball back onto Joe’s side of the table, but he still managed to get to it and bounce it back. 

“I never lose,” he shrugs as he launches it back to you. 

Joe's reflexes were too much for you to beat as he always managed to hit the ball and make you miss. But you resorted to certain tactics that caused him to miss occasionally, a teasing glance or occasional trash talk that got him worked up. Joe was very good at ping pong, no doubt about that. But ever since you met, he managed to teach you all the ins and outs of the fun game and made you a better player than you were before. Whenever you two would hang out, whether it was in LA, New York, or Cincy, you managed to end up at a ping pong table, playing your favorite game. 

“Ya know, for a man that usually wants to be the best at everything he does, you’re not trying hard enough to be best at this it seems,” you tease, hitting the ball back to him. Your trash talk causes him to look at you and miss the ball completely. 

“Fuck,” he whispers, picking up the ball off the floor. 

The score was neck and neck a few minutes later and you were still going at it and no sign of stopping in sight. 

“Just give up, Y/N” he smiles. “We’re going to be here all evening,” he says, hitting the ball back over. 

“Fine by me. I’m not losing, I told you,” you say hitting it back over the net. 

By the time the final round of the game rolls around, you’re fully locked in and determined to beat him. You attempt to recreate Joe’s trick shot, and you succeed, causing Joe to be slightly taken aback. The ball flies at his side of the table hard and fast, completely missing Joe and his paddle, and you get the final score. 

You throw your paddle down onto the table and jump up and down, “I told youuuuuuu,” you yell. “Guess you do lose,” you tease, pointing at him and laughing. 

Joe drops his head in defeat and softly laughs. “Damn, using my own move against me,” he says.

“You did teach me everything I needed to know to be good at ping pong,” you shrug. “You created your own competition,”. 

“That I did,” he sighs. 

A little later 

After your game of ping pong, you head back upstairs, the storm from this morning still raging outside, even harder than before, causing darkness to flood through your home. 

“Damn, it’s dark as hell up here,” you say, walking over to the patio door to take a peek at the storm. 

“Looks like it’ll be storming all night,” Joe says as he checks the weather on his phone. 

“We should probably get to making dinner then, just in case the power decides to go out,” you say, turning around and walking to the kitchen. 

“Good idea,” he says, following you into the kitchen. 

You switch on a few of the lights and get to work. You had decided on making Chicken Parmesan with garlic bread. Joe wasn’t much of a cook, but he would try to help you whenever you decided to make something. For tonight, you left him in charge of marinating the chicken and grilling them on the stove while you made the sauce and boiled the pasta. He walked over to his phone, connected it to the speaker, and played some music to lighten the mood while you were cooking. 

A half-hour later, the chicken is grilled and the sauce is made. All that was left was the pasta to be done boiling and the garlic bread you just popped into the oven to be ready. 

You walked over to the pot of pasta, stirring it around as you heard the song change to “Real Love Baby”, one of your favorite love songs in the entire world. Joe looked up from the chicken that he was putting the finishing touches on, realizing that one of your favorite songs was playing, and walked over to you. He wrapped his arms around your waist and rested his chin on your shoulder. You smile as you feel his warm body pressed against yours. 

“Our hearts are free, so tell me what’s wrong with the feeling,” he says in your ear. 

“I’m a flower, you’re my bee,” he says, swaying you back and forth. 

“What’re you doing,” you laugh as you turn around in his arms. 

“Singing, duh,” he deadpans. “You’re not the only one with the vocals,” he says while grabbing your hand and leading you to the open area by the dining table. 

“Dance with me,” he says. 

You raise your eyebrow at him, slightly confused since he rarely slow dances with you. “Are you sure?” You asked. 

“100%,” he says, pulling you into him and resting his hands on your lower back while you're wrapped around his neck. 

“I want real love baby, oooh don’t leave me waiting,” he sings, swaying you back and forth. Your heart feels like it’s about to explode as you hear him singing a song that is so special to you.

“I’ve got real love maybe, wait until you taste me, I want real love baby,” you sing back, staring lovingly into his soft eyes. 

“There’s a world inside me, got the preacher's music, just it for a minute and gone,” he sings back, taking your hand and giving you a little twirl. You felt at ease in the moment. It was just you and your boyfriend dancing around in your home, away from prying eyes and interlopers’ glances. A special memory just for the two of you to forever remember. 

You sway around to the song for a few more moments, laughing at the scene and softly pressing kisses on each other's lips. “I’m in love, I’m alive, I belong to the stars and sky,” you say, singing one of the last lines of the song before pressing another kiss to his lips. 

As the song ended, you wrapped your arms around his neck a little tighter and stuffed your head into the crook of his neck. “Thank you,” you mumbled. 

“For what?” He asked, rubbing your back slowly. 

“Dancing with me. That was romantic and sweet,” you smile against his neck. 

“I should do that more often then,” he smiles. 

You lift your head out of his neck and press a kiss to his cheek. “You’re romantic enough, trust me. It’s just nice to have these spontaneous moments of intimacy. Keeps me on my toes,” you giggle, walking over to take the garlic bread out of the oven and turning the stove off. 

“Well, another spontaneous moment is on its way. Why don’t we eat dinner at a candlelit table? I have some candles in the cabinet I can set up,” he says as he goes over to the drawer to take out a few candles.

You shake your head, heart fluttering at his sweet gestures and ideas, and shoot him a grin. “Sounds perfect,”. 

Joe was always doing little things like this throughout your relationship and you adored it. Whether it would be random flower deliveries to your house or thoughtfully planned dates, he always managed to go above and beyond for you whether it was random or well-planned gestures. He wasn’t like any other guys you dated. The tough shell he had on the outside was not at all like who he was deep down, and you were lucky enough to see it all the time. 

You plate dinner as Joe gets the table ready, lighting a few candles around the table and turning the lights off when you sit down. The warm glow of the candle made a cocoon around you two, protecting you from the darkness that flooded your surroundings. 

“You’re too far away,” Joe says as he looks at you from across the table.  He takes his chair and scooches it around so that he is sitting next to you, rather than across. 

“That’s better,” you say, pressing a kiss to his cheek as you pick up your fork and dig into the delicious food.

“Mmm, you did so good with this chicken,” you point out. “Can’t cook my ass,” you laugh as you take a sip of your water. 

“I learned a thing or two from you,” he says, taking another bite of the pasta. 

“Mm, well whatever you learned paid off because damn, this is good,” you say, chewing on the well-seasoned and cooked meat. You grab your glass of water, take a sip of the cool beverage, and remember something you wanted to talk to Joe about. 

“So this is my first official official off-season with you,” you say, putting down your water and looking up at him.

“Yes it is,” he says, putting his fork down and looking at you. 

“So how does this work? Since usually I’m not with you for the entirety of the time you have off”.

“Usually I have some training during the early months and some events to go to each month. OTA’s are in May, but we have time before that and camp,” he replied. 

“Ah, right right,” you nod.

“Since you’re with me now, you’re definitely coming to the events with me,”.

“I’d love to. Someone has to keep you company,” you say, grabbing his hand and rubbing the soft skin. 

“For real. I hate going to like half the events I need to go to because I don’t like talking to randos for hours on end. If you’re there, I can just stick with you for the entire event,” Joe laughs. 

“I’ll have to come up with an escape route for each occasion,” you joke. 

He lets out a soft laugh before continuing the conversation, “We’ll be taking obvious trips to LA and New York so you can do your thing and I also have training in LA so it works out. As for vacations, we should prob get on planning those out,” he adds. “I was thinking of a trip to the Keys like we did last year, while we’re in LA we can rent a house in Malibu for a little, and I was thinking we go to Italy in April for a week and maybe Greece if you’re down,”. 

You stay quiet for a few moments, still processing how he’s already thought everything out. Joe didn’t really go out of the country for vacations, and you’d learned that about him pretty early on. So him suggesting these vacations to you took you by surprise, but it was a pleasant surprise. 

He notices your wandering facial expression and your quietness. “You alright?” He asks, sitting up in his chair. 

“I’m amazing and this all sounds like a dream,” you smile. “You’ve really thought everything out, especially with these trips. I didn’t think you’d wanna go somewhere so far,”. 

He pauses for a few seconds to collect his thoughts, “Now that you’re in my life, I want everything to be well thought out and serious. I love you a lot and I want you to be as happy as humanly possible,” he says, his body language telling you everything you needed to know. “You like traveling and I don’t want you to give that up for me. Maybe I just needed the right person to go with to enjoy it, and who better than my favorite person,”.

Your heart felt like it was going to explode into a pile of pink dust at the thought of how much he cared about what you wanted. “I think if I was happier than I already am, I would actually explode,” you joke. “But seriously, this is perfect,” you say looking around the room. “This house, this dinner, these vacations, and you,”. 

“I’m glad you feel that way,” he says. His eyes are filled with joy and adoration. Joe was truly happy with you and you with him. None of his previous relationships had made him feel so complete and comfortable. Something about you made him see what forever could look like, and he loved what it looked like. 

After a few more minutes of talking about off-season plans, you both wrap up your dinner, you blow out the candles and Joe clears the table. You put the leftovers in the fridge as Joe loads the dishwasher. After you’re done, you’re standing in the kitchen, the look on your faces mirroring the tension that was building in the room.  

“Soooo, whatcha wanna do now?” Joe asks as he stuffs his hands in his pockets. 

“Hmm, I know it’s night time but people workout at night right?” You innocently tease.

“You wanna hit the gym? Right now?” He asks, very confused. 

“Not that kinda gym silly,” you say as you walk closer to him. “I think we should go to the gym upstairs, ya know the one with the comfy bed? I think we need to do another rep of our favorite workout,” you tease as you wrap your arms around his neck. 

“Ohhhh,” he realizes as a smirk appears on his face. “I think you’re right. I’d hate to miss a workout. It’s not good to break routine,” he says as his hands move down to cup your ass. 

“Well then, let’s get to it,” you say as Joe hoists you up, making you wrap your legs around his waist. 

Joe’s soft lips meet yours in a fiery and sloppy kiss as he starts to lead you to the stairs, but you pull away so he can see them and not fall because you were kissing him. You move down to his neck and start to suck on the soft skin, marking him up and leaving a few pretty purple spots that’ll be visible in a few hours. 

You’re so caught up in pressing kisses on his neck that you don’t even notice that you’ve made it into the bedroom. “Wait, I didn’t change the sheets from this morning,” you say, moving back into his view. Your fingers find themselves in his hair again, softly scratching his scalp. 

“Already ahead of you,” He laughed. “I changed them after I showered,”.

“Could you be more perfect,” you ask, pulling him into another heated kiss, one you both grin into. He lowers you down onto the soft sheets before pulling away to take his shirt and sweats off. “Damn, straight to it?” you question. 

“I need you so yes, straight to it,” he says, giving you a heated look. He threw his clothes to the side and kneeled on the bed so that he was hovering over you. You let out a squeal as Joe quickly pulled your shorts and panties down, throwing them to the side along with your shirt which you had been in the process of removing.

He leaned down and started pressing kisses along your collarbone, cupping your breast through your bra at the same time. “Mmm, Joe,” you moan, your eyelashes fluttering as you struggle to compose yourself. 

His hand navigates further down as he ghosts his fingers over your soaking folds, teasing your clit while he continued to kiss your collarbone. “Joe, I need you so bad,” you whispered, squirming in your bed in an attempt to find pleasure. 

He lifts his head from your neck and gets off of you, leaving you cold and bare. “Take it off,” he nods, referring to your bra. 

You quickly reach for the clasp and unhook it, slipping off the straps and throwing it to the side. You feel his intense and lustful eyes looking you up and down, the only thought in his head was that you were the hottest and most angelic girl he had ever seen. 

“You are so beautiful,” he whispers. You immediately reach back out for him and cup his face, pulling him back down so he is once again on top of you. Your mouths moved at a relentless pace, kissing each other hungrily as his hand cupped your breast again. “Joe,” you moaned as you threw your head back into the pillow, breaking away from the kiss. 

He moved down, pressing wet open-mouthed kisses in between your breasts and all around your belly, which as he knows, is where you’re most ticklish.

“Joe,” you laughed as he continued to press kisses all along your stomach. “Something wrong?” He asked in between kisses. All you could respond with was continuous laughter and squeals, making him oh so incredibly happy. 

After he finished attacking your stomach with kisses, he moved back up to your lips, pressing his against yours again. He sucked on your top lip and you could feel his erection poking at your thigh. 

“Mmm,” you moaned into the kiss. You could feel the cold air of the room against your core, which was soaking with your arousal, just begging to be attended to. His hand gripped your waist tightly, almost as if he was never going to let go. 

He could feel your impatience by the way you were kissing him and squirming underneath his hold, and it was driving him crazy. He pulled away from the kiss and looked you in your soft eyes before moving back down to your neck, this time sucking the spot under your ear that drove you mad.

“Shit,” you whimpered. He moved to gently nip your earlobe before moving up and whispering, “You might not be able to walk after this,” into your ear. 

You bit your lip as he went back to kissing the spot under your ear. He was driving you insane with every kiss, every touch, every word that came out of his mouth. 

“I look better and feel better when I’m well-fucked anyways,” you boldly replied, causing him to immediately come out from your neck. 

“Oh really?” He says as you stare at his swollen red lips. 

“Mhm, something about the endorphins, oxytocin, and post-sex afterglow I get just works for me,” you smirk. 

“The afterglow part for sure,” he says as he presses a kiss to your cheek. “Not sure about the hormone part since that part should be in you,”. 

“You know what else should be in me?” you smirk as you brush his unruly curls out of his eyes. 

“What?”.

“You,” you say, pressing a sweet kiss to his nose. 

He lets out a chuckle, “She knows what she wants,”.

“Damn right, she does,” you say, moving your arm to the side to dim the lamp a little. 

Joe slowly lines himself up with your slick core, one hand guiding himself and the other on your waist. You feel a little pressure down below as he starts to slide in. You were still a little sore from this morning and from earlier, so a little pain was still present. He noticed you wince a little and immediately stopped. 

“No, No, keep going,” you moaned. 

“If it hurts at all, just tell me to stop. I don’t want to hurt you,” he coos. 

“I’m fine,” you smile as you lift your legs to wrap around his waist, pushing him in closer. 

He gives you a nod as he continues to slide into you until he reaches your hilt. “Joe,” you moaned as you turned your head to the side, closing your eyes because of the slight sting.  

Joe snapped his hips forward, causing you to turn your head back to face him. The first thrust being so hard took you by surprise. He set a relentless pace early on as he pounded into your core, countless whimpers and moans leaving both your lips. 

“Fuck, Joe,” you screamed as he continued to fuck you senselessly. The pain you felt for a few seconds turned into pleasure, all because of him.

“Baby, you feel so good,” he groaned as each thrust shook your body. Sounds of skin hitting skin filled the room and you two felt yourselves getting lost in each other. With every thrust, he moved deeper and deeper into your core, his cock slamming against your cervix, making you moan with delight. 

“Right there,” you smile, closing your eyes and letting him work his magic.

“Fuck, Y/N,” he groaned as he picked up the pace of his thrusts. You started to buck your hips against him, matching the pace of his rough thrusts. Your bodies moved together in perfect harmony, your fingers scratching his back which was surely leaving red marks. One of his hands cupped your breast, his thumb rubbing circles around your nipple.

“J- Joe,” you whimpered. “I love you,” you moaned as your eyes rolled to the back of your head. His grip on your waist became tighter as his other hand moved to the other side, now gripping you fully. He lowered his head, capturing your lips in a soft kiss, but he breaks away when he feels you clench around his cock, signaling you were close.  

“God, you are unreal,” he moans. 

“I’m so- I’m so close,” you struggled to say. Your legs started to burn as he continued to thrust into you, sweat dripping from both of your foreheads. 

“Cum for me, Baby,” he says as he ruthlessly slams into your core, your entire body moving against the bed as he took control. At this point, there was not a single thought in your head and you were quite literally being fucked stupid by your boyfriend. A few seconds later, you felt the band in your belly snap as you clenched around his cock. You tugged at the strands of his hair as you came around him as he was still pumping into you.

“Joe!” you screamed into his neck as you rode out your high. A few more breathless moans escaped your lips as you felt the aftershocks of your orgasm. He kept pumping into you, reaching his climax a few moments later. He gripped your thigh with his right hand, his left still on your waist, as he filled you with hot spurts of his cum.

“Y/N..” he whimpered, stuffing his face into your neck. Your hands rubbed his lower back as he slowed his thrusts, pumping every last bit of cum into you before collapsing next to your tired body. His arm layed across your belly, holding you close, as you spent a few seconds catching your breaths. You stared up at the bedroom ceiling, a content smile on your face as you realized that you were in your shared bedroom right now, in your shared home, and with the love of your life wrapped around you. This really was your life, and it was better than you could have ever imagined. 

“I love you so much,” he panted, breaking the silence. 

You turned your head to meet his tired yet still filled with love eyes, “I love you even more,”.  

An hour later, you both are wrapped up together in the bathtub, soaking up the warm and soothing water.

“This feels soooo good,” you say as you lean back against his chest. “I seriously don’t think I can walk so you might have to carry me out of here like you carried me in,”. 

“Sorryyy,” he laughs, pressing kisses to the back of your shoulder. "At least the post-sex afterglow is doing its thing,".

"All thanks to you," you smile.

"Still, Sorry," he says, taking his hand and threading it through his hair.

“It’s okay, I know you always live up to your word, and you did say I wouldn’t be able to walk after that sooo,” you shrug.

“Live up to my word?” he questions.

“Mhm,” you reply, looking up at him. “You told me when we met that this was going to be different, and it is. This is the happiest I’ve ever been in my life, and you lived up to your word by making sure that we were different than the other relationships we both had,”.

“Go on,” he says, rubbing your arm. 

“You told me that we would do this on our own terms, and we have. The public barely knows about us and you built a wall that shields us from everyone’s unwanted opinions, you lived up to your word,”. 

“Y/N-,” he started to say. Joe was melting at your words. Nobody had ever made him feel the way you did and the way you spoke about him assured him that you felt exactly as he did. He truly loved you more than anything.

“And then you told me you loved me, and you’ve shown me that every single day I have spent with you. And now I get to feel that and see that every day. You lived up to your word,” you finished. 

Suddenly, you felt his arms wrap around your waist and flipping you around so your legs were settled around him. He pulls your head into his neck and presses delicate kisses to your forehead. 

“I love you, I love you, I love you,” he says with each kiss. 

“I love you too,” you giggle. “I can’t wait for more days like this with you. This is everything I’ve ever wanted and more,”.

“I’m glad I could give it to you,” he says. 

You fall into his chest as his arms settle around your waist, holding you close to him. You spend a few minutes in that position, hearing each other’s heartbeats and pressing delicate kisses to each other’s skin.

“You’re the best boyfriend in the entire world,” you say.

“It’s easy to be the best boyfriend when I have the best girlfriend in the world,” he smiles.

There was no place you’d rather be right now than here. You were happy, you felt at home, and you were in love. And you would get to feel the same thing the next day, and every day after that.

–The End–

Part 3

[janovavalen]

✧THINK NONE OF HER || percy jackson x fem!reader

part one!

part two!

part three!

part four!

part five!

summary: percy jackson’s first days on camp were hell to say the least—fist day and he got bullied, but when he sneaks away to be alone he finds an interesting girl in the forest.

word count: 3216

warnings: small curses (literally like one word and it’s not really a curse but it’s considered one) reader is daughter of athena, sister of annabeth, horrid flirting, reader lowkey not felling percy for the first half’s of this story line.

early morning percy laid down in a bed with his head cuddled into the pillow comforter and the blanket stuffed and twisted around his body to collect warmth and comfort from the slightly cold wooden cabin he recently moved into.

seeing small flashes of the night his mother was taken from his sight and out of his life for the first time—he jumped up with the faint song of the rawr from the monster that took her. his eyebrows frowned slightly while his wide worried blue eyes blinked to adjust to the darkness around him.

the small reflections of the water ripples providing him enough light to adjust to. sighing as he felt the sweat cling to his forehead and back he exhaled deeply before placing his hands on his face to sigh into them.

once he placed his hands down he looked to the side as he saw it was still the middle of the night, the only light outside being the small fires that were set at the entrances of each cabin. everyone in their own respective houses, sleep and resting—except for percy of course, why not.

seeing he obviously couldn’t sleep at the moment from the nightmare he just had he decided to try and take a small walk—without getting caught that is. if he were, he’d be in trouble by luke or another camp member. even if it weren’t them, someone would probably snitch.

sighing as he stood up from his bed and made his way over to his black and white converse shoes, he slipped them on before throwing on a jacket and zipping it up to protect him from the breezy air outside.

once he made it out, he looked around and saw the pure emptiness and quiet of the camp around him. the space was honestly cozy—when nobody was around to ruin the atmosphere with chaos.

walking along the gravel sidewalks that were dented into the walkways he followed them and soon went off track to the forest that glew with the light of the moon.

tightening his lips a bit he walked into the forest, looking around and taking in the peaceful and quiet space around him. thinking his a million thoughts that never surfaced to be talked about he found himself getting deeper into the forest without any mind.

mindlessly walking around and turning each tree to tree he found himself kicking rocks, picking up leaves to soon throw them, looking at lizards and birds. once he found a small white lizard laying down on the rock he smiled a bit and leaned down to pet it, smiling to himself at the smooth scales that ran down his body.

‘what are you doing awake, lil guy’ he asked, as if he could talk back.

as if it almost did—it gave a small blink, percy speaking once more—‘guess you couldn’t sleep either, huh?’ smiling more as he pet the small lizard, he finally thought of the morning that was soon to come and the training he had to do with luke in the morning.

‘well…i guess i’ve gotta go now, you sleep well, okay?’ giving it one last pet he got up and walked around to soon see nothing but trees, no recent path he walked on.

looking around as his heart starting to speed up a little he realized he was lost…in the middle of the camp forest…with a lizard—by himself. turing around to see the lizard looking at him he scoffed.

‘you wouldn’t happen to know the way back to camp right?’

‘yeah but i’m not helping you’ a voice spoke. gasping a little percy walked up to the lizard and leaned down to it, his knees in the dirt so he was face to face with the small white lizard

‘you can talk?’ he asked it—it gave him a blink before the voice spoke once more.

‘that’s not…turn around’ the voice said. percy turned slowly to see a girl with (h/c) hair and vibrant (e/c) eyes looking down at him, she pushed up a eyebrow a bit as she looked down at percy who scrabbled to his feet.

‘o—oh, that’s embarrassing—‘

‘it is…bye now’ she turned around and made her way out to the forest only for percy to swallow his worry and follow her, hoping she was leaving to camp as well.

‘wait! are you going to camp?’ he whispered shouted.

‘yes’

‘well can you help me? i got lost and i thought i was the only one out here so you kind of saved my life’

the mystery girl turned around and looked percy up and down to take in his blue dino pajama pants, black jacket and his converse. looking back up into his eyes she turned around without a word.

‘uh…was that a yes? or a no?’ he asked her as she walked ahead of him.

‘if you want to stay here with your best friend lizard who you think can speak, go ahead and stay’ she spoke. he took this as a hint and hurried to his side.

the quiet atmosphere around them was almost suffocating percy. he found himself looking at her every now and again as he noticed her straight face and straight forward eyes that focused on the path ahead.

cleaning his throat he began to speak—‘so, what are you doing out here?’ he asked.

met with silence.

‘oh cool me too…uhm—so—‘

‘please…shut up?’ she asked him, turning to his face to see she had almost an irritated and desperate look for silence. he quickly shut his mouth and let her continue walking.

he was utterly curious. what was she doing out here? maybe she couldn’t sleep? maybe she was offering and praying to her parents? maybe she’s coming back from a party—

looking up to see they were at camp now, percy blinked and looked at the mystery girl who didn’t pay him any mind.

‘thanks for walking me’ he mumbled while looking over at her. the dark forest light didn’t really give him help to see what she looked like, but now he was able to make out more of her face features and the warm yellow light of the fire around them helped define her face even more.

he felt a small skip in his heart but paid it no mind.

‘don’t mention it—‘ she mumbled while she walked back to her cabin.

‘no really i—‘

‘ever.’ she finished while giving him a single last look before making her way to her cabin.

watching her walk with pure curiosity he walked slowly to his with his head turned to see her walk into cabin six. she’s the daughter of athena.

of course, he could’ve caught on earlier when she made her small snarky remarks.

walking to his cabin and getting his shoes off to soon take his jacket off and put it back where it was, he shuffled over to his bed and fell into the comforter. groaning a bit he found his mind going back to the mystery girl.

with no primary reason, he wished or hoped he could find out her name sometime soon.

ㆍ୨୧ㆍ

as the sun blazed down the the small group in training, luke thrusted his sword towards percy who quickly dodged it and swung his own at luke, of course he ultimately failed and ended up getting pushed by luke causing percy to fall to the ground and let out a grunt.

going to get back up in a hurry he was met with the tip of luke’s sword pointing right at this throat.

‘i think i won this round’ luke joked as he walked percy shake his head slowly.

‘you think?’ percy remarked back making luke smile and lean out a hand to help him up from his spot on the grassy ground below him.

once he was up on his feet, percy rolled his shoulders as the small tense of it caused him to hiss in slight pain. luke noticed his and placed a gentle hand upon percy’s shoulder.

‘we can be done for now, after lunch we can pick up on arching and get back to sword training, you can take a break, you did good today’ percy smiled up at his friend like who smiled back.

percy wasn’t that good nor was he bad at all with swords and arrows. but when it came to being against luke in almost anything he was definitely top three of two, yeah, it was that bad.

sighing he walked his way through the people as they talked amongst themselves with the half brothers and sisters. percy looked around and gave small smiles to some people who would just look at him and turn back around to their original spots.

clearing his throat in awkwardness he saw his best friend grover walking mindlessly pass everyone to his own business.

‘grover!’ percy called out, grover turned around to see his own best friend and smiled with a wave.

percy jogged his way to grover who was waiting for him.

‘how’d training go?’

‘do i look like i won?’

‘mm…not really? but it’s the thought of winning that counts’

‘well here, if i’m not holding a head on a stick i’m still considered a loser’ percy remarked. grover gave him a small shrug and smile before they walked.

‘where are you going?’ percy asked.

‘to the arrows, annabeth needed me to get something for her so i’m just going to drip it off to her then im back on my own’ grover showing a small collecting bag of arrows that were painted (f/c).

he looked down at them with a small frown in his eyebrow as he recognized the color. it was the same color that the mystery girl wore last night. he would have paid this no mind, but he had been very confused as to why she didn’t leave his mind.

they didn’t even share many words.

walking to where grover had mentioned percy looked up and quickly grabbed grover’s back shirt to pull him behind a tree—‘wait!’

‘what!? oh my—‘

‘shh…she’ll see me, be quiet!’ percy whispered as he hid behind the tree.

‘who? who will see you?’ grover hurried with concern and confusion.

‘that girl—i was walking in the forest last night and she was there too, i don’t want her thinking I'm like some psycho crazy stalking guy who is trying to kill her or something!’ percy pressed his back against the rough bark of the tree before grover turned to look and saw his friends.

‘who annabeth?’

‘no no, the girl next to her’ he hushed, grover turned back to see it was y/n.

‘y/n? her?’

‘who’s y/n?’

‘apparently the girl you ran into last night’ grover shrugged as he watched percy turn around from the tree and look at y/n who smiled at annabeth who told a joke as she moved her arrow around its bow.

‘y/n…’ he whispered. looking at her more he felt his eyes focus primarily on her. her smile and light in her eyes that seemed nonexistent and unfamiliar to the girl he met last night who held darkness and a frown.

‘wait you said she was in the woods?’

‘yeah…i couldn’t sleep so i took a walk, got lost and met her, she led me back to camp’ percy told, his eyes still watching y/n who mindlessly did her things.

‘did you guys talk?’

‘if im hiding from her i think it's safe for you to assume we didn’t talk’

‘right, right…well, guess you can now, right?’ grover smiled as he pushed percy out from behind the tree.

percy turned to look at grover who shrugged with a innocent look on his face, percy giving a glare before he followed grover over to the group in training.

‘annabeth! y/n!’ he called out, the girl turned around in sync as they shared a small smile to grover.

‘hey g’ y/n smiled as she looked down at the bag of arrows,’you got them, thank you so much. i’ve been a mess without them’ she grabbed the bag and placed a small hand on grover’s arm as a thank you before she looked to see percy.

‘it’s you’ she looked him up and down before giving a tight lip smile.

‘it’s me’ he showed a bit of teeth in this awkward smile as she inhaled awkwardly and turned around. annabeth frowned and looked between the two as she scoffed.

‘uhm, why was that?’ she mumbled.

‘nothing—‘

‘percy here, met y/n in the forest and thinks she thinks he’s some psychopath stalker who wants to kill here’ grover smiled as he looked at percy who rolled his eyes

annabeth laughed at this while she shook her head—‘well to assure you she doesn’t think that, she didn’t think of you at all, she would’ve told me or grover’ annabeth walked away giving grover a smile before going back to y/n who positioned herself with her bow and arrow.

‘hm…doesn’t think of me at all, got it’ percy watcher at

y/n aimed and got the red center of her arrow that was previously there, cutting it with in half with her new arrow.

walking away with grover, he noticed percy looking back occasionally then back forward. with a grin on his face he shook his head before talking.

‘don’t think of her too much, she doesn't like it’ he told percy who turned to him with a frown in his eyebrows.

‘what? okay for one i’m not thinking of her, and two how would she know if someone was thinking of her’ he asked as they walked side by side.

grover looked to the side to percy and shrugged—‘i can’t tell you how she does it because i don’t know how she does either, she kind of just knows face expression and body language more than others so…when people are thinking of her and they make it obvious she gets upset. ask luke, he’ll know’ grover nodded over to luke who was standing off with his small friend group.

percy looked confusingly at grover who gave a pat on the shoulder and walked away to his own duties, percy having nothing to do until after dinner decided to just go walking around to pass the time.

ㆍ୨୧ㆍ

after dinner and later at night with people walking to their cabins to rest after their showers and hang outs, percy made his way to luke’s cabin.

once he arrived, he was glad to see luke hanging out by himself just sharpening his sword with the quietness of the room to keep him occupied.

‘hey’ percy called out to luke making him turn and greet him with a head nod—‘hey percy, things going well? how’s training?’ he asked as percy walked closer to then stand near his bedside.

‘things are well, just around i guess? you?’

‘same old, same old, showing new campers around, training. what brings you here too late? nobody picking on you right?’ he places his sword down next to him and looked over at percy who looked a bit nervous.

putting it aside and hoping he could just get to the chase he inhaled deeply and spoke—‘no, no, nothing like that it’s just…’ looking over at luke who confusingly looked at him back he understood the nervousness and stood up.

‘it’s okay, you can ask and tell me anything dude, don’t stress it’ he told him with a smile. percy looked at this and shook his head.

‘i’m not stressing it it’s just—i don’t know how to really bring it up?’

‘just say it’

‘well, okay—for one don’t get mad and like to snitch on me or something but i went out for a walk last night and went in the forest…when i was there i got lost and met a girl turns out her name is y/n…earlier trigger told me not to think about her or something? because she will know, then he said you know all about that? i was just—‘

‘you're wondering what he means?’

percy nodded his head and blinked—‘yeah…’

luke chuckled a bit before placing his hands on his hips.

‘she isn’t a bad person nor is she someone you should be scared of, but i will tell you grover is right, she doesn’t like it when people worry, or think or are curious of her because…’ luke looked side to side at the doorway and the wall before shaking his head.

‘i can’t really tell you…just know, you should probably do what grover says. and if your lucky you can spritz your charm on her and she’ll be your friend too’ luke smiled a bit at percy who shook his head and rolled his eyes.

‘no—im not spritzing anything on anyone, but…thanks for the talk, i’ll see you tomorrow’

‘yeah, tomorrow—get some rest percy’ luke gave a head nod at percy who gave one back as he made his leave.

what was so secretive about this girl? was she a wanted criminal before coming here? can she read minds? what if she can read his mind right now—

‘i can’t read minds percy’ a voice spoke behind him, making him turn around in a hurry and look at who said it. it was y/n.

gulping a bit he looked side to side before speaking—‘a person who can’t read minds would say they can’t read minds…’

she smiled a bit before shaking her head—‘reading minds is embarrassing…i would hate to know what everyone's thinking every second of the day. why are you asking about me?’ she asked. her hands were crossed in front of her body with a stern look on her face.

‘what—‘

‘i heard you and luke talking…you wanted to know something about me. ask me personally before asking others’ y/n stayed in her spot as percy blinked nervously. setting his pride aside, he looked her up and down before speaking.

‘what grover said…why do you not like it when people think or worry about you? i mean it’s not my place—‘

‘your right it’s not…i don’t know you and you don’t know me. let’s keep it that way. okay?’ she tilted her head a bit with more emphasis on her words. looking at percy in the eyes before he nodded and just gave up, she nodded her own head and walked away.

watching her walk to her cabin he felt himself walking to his own with an empty mind.

getting to his cabin and shutting the door behind him he got himself ready for bed. sighing under his breath he laid down in his warm bed that awaited him since he left it.

looking up at the ceiling with his mind unturned, he tired his hardest not to think of the mysterious y/n who shared no thought and no background other than the fact she didn’t like percy. that was very obvious.

it’s not like he cared. well…not really.

but he was genuinely confused about her. and when it came to things he was confused about. he needed to solve it to become more understanding and succeed.

so, he swore to himself from this day on he will lean more and understand more about the secretive y/n. daughter of athena.

[zoeykallus]

Hello Zoey

First , I wanted to tell you again that I love the stories you gave us , thank you , really , you're one of the few who can make me forget time when I'm reading 👌❤️

It's my first request so I'm sorry if it's a bit clumsy 😅

I had an idea , imagine that after a mission the reader is so tired that they took the first bunk they saw but it's not their's , how would the batchers react ? x)

Aloha!

Very happy to read this! 😊 Thank you so much!

There is a first time for everything. Don't worry, there is nothing clumsy about it. I think I got it. So pre Relationship, but with already growing yet unspoken feelings? At least that would be my guess. Let me see, this could be fun 😁🤭

The Bad Batch x Reader HCs - Sleepy Mix-Ups

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Warnings: None I guess/SFW/Fluff

__________

Ko-Fi (If you feel like giving me some coffee)

__________

Hunter

He almost threw his equipment at you. At the last moment, he sees you lying in his bunk and just manages to stop himself. Hunter is puzzled, raises his eyebrows questioningly and looks at you for a moment. A small smile twitches at the corners of his mouth. You look kind of cute lying there in his bunk. He sighs softly and looks around, his gaze falling on your actual bunk. He walks towards it, takes off his equipment, and even before he lies down in it, he smells it. The bedding and the pillow smell of your shampoo, your perfume, of you. A strange, warm shiver runs through his entire body. Hunter looks back over his shoulder to his own bunk, where you are slumbering blissfully. He knows the scent of you will keep him awake for a while, make him woozy. He feels a tingling restlessness under his skin, a silent longing for more of what reaches his nose, more of you. Hunter lies down anyway, the other bunks are occupied, and he doesn't want to wake you. He lies awake half the night and dreams of you await him in his sleep, some gentle, some wild. When he wakes up, his heart is beating fast, his pulse racing as if he has just experienced a pleasantly exciting adventure.

He grins a little stupidly to himself and flinches when he hears your voice. "Sorry, I must have gotten the wrong bunk last night because I was so tired." Hunter clears his throat, straightens up and says with a wink, "It's no problem" He looks nervous and a little shaky, you have no idea why, but as he leaves the room to use the refresher, you don't give it a second thought.

Echo

He stands in front of his bunk and looks down at you. He scratches his chin uncertainly with the scomp link. Echo doesn't really know what to do, he doesn't really want to wake you up, you look so peaceful and relaxed. The day has been hard and exhausting for all of you. He holds his hand over his mouth as he yawns. Tired, he rubs his eyes a moment later. His gaze wanders to your bunk and back again. Echo doesn't quite know whether he should just lie down. You've probably made a mistake out of tiredness, if he were to just lie down in your bed now, he would feel like an intruder. Even if the thought of lying on your pillow, which certainly smells like you, is incredibly tempting. Echo sighs softly, sits down on the floor next to his bunk where you are lying and leans against it. It's anything but cozy, but he's tired enough to fall asleep after a short time sitting up, his head resting halfway on the edge of the bunk. He wakes up when something brushes against his head. The blanket you covered yourself with. You move, it's early morning, you're still half asleep when you see Echo looking at you over the edge of the bunk.

You blink several times, a little startled. "Echo? What are you doing down there?" He straightens up a little awkwardly, his back aching a little from the position he's been sleeping in. He smirks wryly and says, "Well, you occupied my bed, so I had to improvise" You rub the sleep from your eyes and look around the bunk. Echo is right, this is not your bedding, not your bunk. Heat rises in your cheeks, and you stare at him. Others might be angry, but Echo just smiles at you. "Why didn't you just use my bunk?" you ask, confused. Echo shrugs, scratches the back of his head uncertainly and says, "Well, I don't know, I didn't want to just do it without being asked" You laugh softly. "But Echo, I climbed into your bed without being asked" Wrecker in the background, still half asleep himself, grins at you from his bunk, "Echo just wished you'd done it while he was in there"

Echo's eyes widen and his heart races. He feels he has been caught, but grumbles at his brother, "Would you please keep your comments to yourself?" When he looks at you again, you both smile shyly, barely able to meet each other's gaze.

Wrecker

He looks into his bunk, puzzled. Wrecker wasn't expecting this. A little unsettled, he scratches the back of his head and looks around. Everyone else is already asleep, or about to fall asleep. His huge figure stands bent over you next to the bunk you're lying in, his bunk. Normally you would probably have woken up just from the feeling of being watched, by his presence, but you're so wiped out today, probably not even a bomb would wake you up. Wrecker's bunk is bigger than the standardized bunks, because he himself is also bigger than the norm among soldiers, so you should have noticed that alone, but you didn't. He looks over to your bunk, the only one that is still empty and much smaller than he is used to. You mumble something in your sleep. A smile spreads across his face. He was actually toying with the idea of waking you up, but you look so cute, he can't bring himself to do it. Wrecker heads for your bunk, gets ready for bed, and squeezes himself in. When you wake up the next morning, it takes a moment, but you realize you're in the wrong bunk. "Oops," you mumble quietly, straighten up and look around. Everyone is still asleep.

Wrecker is lying in your bunk. He can't stretch out his legs, he's curled up like a fetus, his knees sticking out over the edge of the bunk. It looks uncomfortable, but also adorable. You slip out of bed and quietly walk over to him. You gently nudge him a few times until he opens his eyes. "Hey, big guy," you whisper to him. He blinks, finally grins at you and mumbles back, "Mornin' sweetheart" "Sorry about the bunk, I was so tired I didn't realize which bunk I was in," you say apologetically. Wrecker peels himself out of the too-small bunk and says with a shrug, "It's okay, it can happen" You are relieved that he takes it so lightly. He adds, "Your bunk is pretty tiny, but it smells damn good" You smile shyly and feel your cheeks heat up.

Tech

He almost sits down on you because he is so engrossed in his holopad. At the last moment, he realizes that his bunk is already occupied. Tech lowers the holopad and stares at you silently, as if he could wake you up with his gaze alone. His brow furrowed, he looks at his bunk and wonders how you could have mistaken it. The walls are scrawled with drawings and calculations he made at some point, it's hard to miss. Were you really that tired? He reaches out for you, but just above your arm, his hand stops, he holds it there uncertainly in the air for a while, undecided whether to wake you or not. Actually, this is his bunk, Tech thinks, you shouldn't sleep in it. But there's another thought, a feeling. Because you are sleeping in his bed, you are very close to him in a way. In the morning, his pillow will certainly smell of you. A part of him that he doesn't really understand at the moment, likes that, a lot. He stands there for a long time, the datapad in his hand, watching you. Echo whispers softly over the snoring of the others, "Why don't you go to their bunk, the staring is getting creepy" Tech blinks, startled, and turns to his brother.

He whispers back, "But this is my bunk" Echo sighs and says a little impatiently, "They were extremely tired, I'm sure it was an accident. Now just let them sleep and lie down in their bunk" Tech walks to your bunk, stares at it for a while, then finally lies down. It feels very different, strange, but somehow also pleasant. It smells good, although foreign, but at the same time familiar, because it smells like you. Lost in thought, he begins to paint the walls of the bunk with drawings and calculations. When he falls asleep, Tech still has the pen in his hand and your smell in his nose. It feels like he's falling asleep in your arms and all night long, Tech has a little smile on his lips. When he wakes up, it's still night, and you're already standing next to his bunk. "Sorry," you say quietly. Tech needs a moment to collect himself, the fog of sleep hasn't quite left him yet. "It's okay," he says just as softly, and peels himself out of bed to swap bunks back with you.

You lie down and look around in the semi-darkness. Tech has painted practically every free space. As you lie on your back, you look directly at the sketch of a podracer and a wild sequence of numbers that probably only he understands. You smile. Tech has slept in your bed and left something like his signature, somehow you are so happy about it that you want to kick your feet and squeak.

Crosshair

He is taking off his equipment, turns around and pauses in mid-motion. His brows draw together critically. There's someone lying in his bunk, you. He mutters quietly, "You're kidding me" He lets out an annoyed sigh and stares at you. The intensity of his gaze alone might even have woken you up under normal circumstances, but not today. His gaze finally moves to your bunk, which is empty at the moment, but then his eyes narrow to critical slits. Crosshair has no intention of being evicted from his bunk, accident or not. He grabs you and pushes you to the back of the bunk. Just as you open your eyes in shock and blink, trying to get your bearings, he joins you and takes part of the blanket, decently enough to keep you covered. Startled, you stare at him.

"But... what...?" He cocks a brow at you. "This is my bunk, if you want to sleep in it, fine, but I'm not swapping, so you better get used to me being close or crawl back into your own, kitten" he grumbles. Your heart is racing, you're confused and speechless, trying to untangle the situation in your mind. Just having him so close to you makes you nervous enough. But to be honest, you have no desire to go back to your own bunk. All you say is a quiet, "Okay" A smirk twitches briefly at the corner of his mouth, barely noticeable. Quietly and much more softly, in his smoky voice, he says as he closes his eyes, "Good night, Kitten"

@rintheemolion

@andyoufollowyourheart @clone-whore-99

@brynhildrmimi @kaliel2310

@misogirl828 @tech-deck

@meshla-madalene

@chxpsi

@thebahdbitch

@nahoney22 @ladykatakuri

@darkangel4121

@ttzamara

@arctrooper69

@padawancat97

@agenteliix

@allsystemsblue

@palliateclaw

@either-madness-or-brilliance

@ortizshinkaroff

@andy-solo1

@hunterssecretrecipe

@heyitsaloy

@greaser-wolf

@extrahotpixels

@hated-by-me

@hunterxcrosshair

@malicemercy

@bebopsworld

@echos-girlfriend

@cpnt616

@dangraccoon

@jediknightjana

@pb-jellybeans

@antishadow2021

@sleepycreativewriter

@projectdreamwalker

@1vlouds

[stevie-petey]

episode four: the body

For the second time within a week, Steve Harrington almost kills you with his stupid BMW. Granted, the first time wasn’t necessarily his fault due to your crying, but this time just felt personal.  “Hey! Henderson!” “Jesus Christ-” You’re biking to the Wheeler’s, lost in thought as the sun begins to set, when stupid Harrington scares the shit out of you.  His unexpected shouting causes you to swerve your bike towards his car and he has to slam on his brakes to avoid hitting you.  “Do you, like, have a fantasy about me hitting you with my car?”

Summary: you basically have a "no babe don't cry over ur dead brother ur so sexy" moment with jonathan, hopper plays mr love doctor (cute date idea: coffin shopping), and somehow nancy wheeler makes you realize that you're a horrible babysitter and an even bigger idiot. meanwhile: steve harrington is frustratingly charming.

Rating: general but plenty of cursing as usual.

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

Words: 8k

Before you swing in: hello ! happy eve of a spending time with loved ones, however ya choose to celebrate or not celebrate and all that jazz. i hope y'all are well and doing okay :) a LOT happens in this chapter, so buckle up. so many feelings and revelations my god. also this chapter is one i really loved writing purely because i got to explore more of steve and reader so ,,, ya welcome ! (hopefully i was able to clear up jonathans thoughts and how he processes, i really want it to come across as someone hurt and overwhelmed rather than just him being cranky lmao). anyways, enjoy !!

-

It’s a quiet morning.

You roll over, the sunlight streaming through your curtains, and for a moment you forget. It’s a blissful moment, sweet naivety that strokes your cheek and coaxes your eyes open. As you throw your arms over your head and stretch, last night’s events haven’t caught up to you quite yet. 

Then you feel Jonathan’s body next to yours and for a moment you’re confused. He never sleeps in your bed whenever he spends the night, being ever the gentleman. No matter how many times you offer, he always insists on respecting your mother’s wishes and sleeping on the giant beanbag chair within your room, and it always makes your heart warm. 

Your mother had specifically bought the beanbag for Jonathan when you were thirteen. He had been spending more and more nights at your home, sneaking in through your window to avoid his parents fighting. At first he would simply fall asleep on your carpet, despite your many reassurances that he could sleep in your bed, so when your mom unexpectedly barged into your room one morning and saw him lying face down on the ground, she freaked. 

Once you had explained everything to her (with Jonathan’s permission), she had shoved you guys into her car, dropped him off at his house, and then found the beanbag at a garage sale for $10. 

“This way, he’ll have a place to sleep that’s soft and cozy, away from my young daughter,” she had said during the drive home. You had covered your face in embarrassment at her implication, but you were also incredibly proud to call her your mom at that moment. She may be overbearing at times, but she was the kindest woman you’ve ever met. 

You rub your eyes and glance at the bean bag that sits between your bed and wall, its dusty blue color almost glowing in the early morning light. Then you glance at Jonathan, who has woken up before you, and notice the redness in his eyes and the dark circles now darker than ever. 

Then it all comes rushing back to you. 

Will’s body in the quarry. 

Holding your brother as he mourned his friend. 

El, so quiet and shy and sweet, running away after your cruel dismissal. 

Jonathan showing up to your window hours later, broken and devastated. 

Then, late into the night, the two of you falling asleep, side by side in your bed, both needing each other more than ever before. 

The two of you get ready without saying anything. You hand Jonathan some spare clothes of his that you keep in a drawer before giving him some space as you go and take a shower. You spend longer than usual getting ready, but you pay no attention to the clock. There’s no way you’re going to school today. You’re not leaving Jonathan alone for even a second. 

Jonathan finishes getting ready before you do and waits in your room. Neither of you have said anything yet, last night being too fresh in your memories, but words aren’t needed between the two of you. 

You take his hand and lead him into your kitchen and wordlessly hand him a banana. He stares at you, and you stare back, silently challenging him to decline the food. He needs to eat. You’ve noticed how thin he’s gotten with everything happening. 

He sighs, knowing he won’t win this fight, and takes a bite out of the banana in a mocking manner, but you’re just relieved he’s eating. 

You grab your own breakfast before writing a note for your mom, informing her that you’ll be with Jonathan today and promising to make up any missed assignments as soon as you can. Then you quietly go into Dustin’s room to check up on him, but his bed is empty. You glance at his alarm clock and note the early hour, he doesn’t normally leave for school for another thirty minutes, which makes you frown. 

Where the hell did the kid run off to?

An uneasy feeling settles over you, but you don’t have time to question anything. Knowing Dustin, he ran off to school earlier than usual to see his friends and distract himself from last night. While your mom offered you both to stay home for the rest of the week due to Will’s death, neither of you have ever been good at staying put and dealing with your emotions.

Wherever your brother is, you know he needs his space.

Once everything is settled, you join Jonathan in his car and drive to his place. While he never explicitly asked you to this morning, you know that you’re going to his house with him to help him deal with his mother and the funeral preparations. 

He doesn’t have to ask, and you don’t have to tell him that you’ll help. 

You both just know. 

About halfway to his place, Jonathan finally speaks. 

“The cops say that Will crashed his bike and fell into the quarry,”

“Jonathan, we don’t have to talk about it right now-”

“My mom doesn’t believe that he’s dead. She-she insists that he’s in the walls, that he can speak through-through… Christmas lights.”

His voice shakes as he speaks, and you can’t tell if it’s due to grief or anger. 

“Will is dead and my mom chooses to believe that there’s some monster in our walls that took him.”

“A monster?” you think about El and her powers and the fear on the boys’ faces when she pulled out the Demogorgon piece. Then you remember the other night at the Byers’ home when Joyce came running outside as the lights were flickering wildly. Her fear had been genuine. 

“A fucking monster that’s hiding in our walls. She wouldn’t… she wouldn’t listen, Y/N. I tried talking to her, to calm her down, but she just…” His words fade off, and he clenches his jaw as tightens his hands around the steering wheel. 

You’re not sure what to say. It’s a tough situation, a fucking heartbreaking one, and it’s all so unfair. Jonathan needs his mom, but his mom needs Will. 

You rest your hand behind his head and allow your fingers to rub circles against his skin. He leans into your touch, and for now this is all you can do. 

The state of the Byers’ home has only gotten worse since the last time you were there. There’s now letters painted on the wall and string lights placed all throughout the house. There’s also clothes in random corners and trash thrown around. 

Jonathan had been staying in this house alone, watching his mother spiral. Your stomach twists with guilt. 

You should’ve been there more for him, but instead you allowed your petty need to help everyone distract you from what’s important. 

Joyce is passed out on the couch with an ax clutched between her hands, which breaks your heart even more. Jonathan walks over to wake her up and you give the two of them some privacy as you head into the kitchen to make Joyce some breakfast. 

Their fridge is barren, but you aren’t surprised. You make do with the few eggs you find and get to work; it isn’t much, but it’ll have to do. As you prepare breakfast, you notice a stack of Will’s drawings on the kitchen table, which causes you to gag with remorse. 

There’s still so much of Will within these walls, his entire childhood still locked inside, untouched, and yet the house lacks his presence. 

He’s gone. 

– 

You wait with Hopper in the morgue waiting room, nervously tapping your foot and frantically trying to distract yourself with a comic. The words blur together in your head and the images float around. You can’t focus on anything. For once, Spidey’s quips and banter can’t distract you from reality. 

Not only are you incredibly worried for Joyce and Jonathan, but the thought of Will’s body being a wall away from you sends chills down your spine. You can’t imagine what’s happening behind the doors, and you’re secretly relieved that you’ll never know. 

“What’s taking so long?” Hopper’s voice breaks you from your thoughts.

You put your comic down and listen, figuring that it’s best if you’re caught up on everything so that you can store away any useful information for later. 

The front desk lady sighs. “Well, everything’s been a bit chaotic around here without Gary.”

This catches Hopper’s attention. “Without Gary?”

“I thought you knew. Those men from State, they… they sent Gary home last night.”

Now this catches your attention. Why would the State replace the town’s coroner? 

“So who did the autopsy?” 

“Someone from State.” 

Hopper looks at you, almost as if to ask if you’re also hearing this, and you give him a slight nod. It’s odd, really damn odd. 

“Why would they send someone for a little boy?” You ask Hopper, but he only shakes his head in response. 

In the back of your mind, you think about what El had warned you of. The bad men, the people she has to hide from… it didn’t make sense at the time, but now…

Your thoughts are cut off as Jonathan runs out the door, his hand over his mouth, and you immediately get up to help him outside. He throws up against the wall outside, and you wince at the smell. You’ve never been good with people getting sick, but Jonathan needs you right now, so you rub soothing circles on his back as he throws up. Once he’s done, you head back inside and wait for Joyce. 

You offer Jonathan a tissue before coaxing him to rest his head on your shoulder. Having nothing else to do, yet urgently wanting to help, you begin to read him some panels from your comic. He doesn’t say anything, so you take it as a sign to keep going. Your voice is hoarse from all your crying, but you read aloud anyways. 

Hopper watches your interaction with a small interest. You don’t notice his curious eyes and the way they seem to glint with sincerity. In his eyes, the two of you will get together soon enough. 

After a couple minutes, Hopper finally asks Jonathan how Joyce is holding up. The boy straightens up, but grabs your hand to steady himself, and responds as best as he can. He explains the lights, the letters on the wall, everything. 

“She’s had anxiety problems in the past, but this…? I don’t know.” He takes a shaky breath, and you draw reassuring patterns on the back of his hand. “I’m worried it could be… god, I don’t know.”

“She’s grieving,” you remind him, and he nods. 

“Yeah, she’s grieving, but she’ll be okay. We’ll be okay; my mom, she’s tough.”

“Like Spider-Man,” you say, though you don’t really mean to. You’re tired and the words just slip out, but Jonathan begins to laugh. 

“Yeah, like Spider-Man, you’re right. Thanks, bug.” 

“Anytime, bee.” 

Jonathan smiles at you, still softly laughing, and it’s then that you realize. He hasn’t laughed in days, he’s hardly even smiled, and yet here he is, smiling at the stupid nickname you gave him and laughing at the stupid joke you didn’t even mean to say; you realize you’d do anything to get him to laugh again, to give you that smile that he’s only ever reserved for you. He squeezes your hand and his eyes shine for a moment with a familiar warmness that has always made you weak. 

It hits you like a cold, cruel wave on a harsh winter day. 

You’re in love with Jonathan. 

Fuck.

It’s horrible timing, and you feel sick with guilt for realizing that you love your best friend merely hours after his brother has died, but now it’s all you can think about. 

You love him, you love him more than you’ve ever loved anything before, but you can’t tell him. It wouldn’t be fair, and you don’t have the time. 

You’re thankful when Hopper begins to talk again, reiterating that Joyce is tough, so that you have the time to process your newfound feelings. 

Then Joyce comes crashing through the door, screaming about how whatever is in the other room isn’t Will, ignoring everyone who tells her to calm down. Both you and Jonathan stand up to calm her down, your comic dropping to the ground in the process, but she doesn’t listen and instead runs outside. 

“Mom!” Jonathan follows after her. 

You sigh and tuck your hair behind your ears before picking up the comic. You know that Jonathan needs to be alone with Joyce right now, give them some privacy, it’s a personal matter. More personal than anything else, and yet you also selfishly don’t want to be near him for a few moments so you can collect yourself as well. 

As you’re gathering your things, Hopper clears his throat. 

“Do you love him?”

You freeze, having not expected such a personal question. You’ve only just realized your feelings for him, how the hell has Hopper already figured it out? “What does it matter? His brother is dead and his mom is losing it.”

Hopper rubs his hand over his face, giving you a warning look. “But do you love the kid?”

It’s the way he says it, like it means life or death, that has you respond, “I do.”

“Take care of him, then.” He looks you in the eyes as he says it, urging you to understand the weight of his words, and you do. 

You’ve heard about how his daughter had died and his wife divorced him soon after. They’d only ever been rumors to you, but now you know that they’re true. He’s telling you to take care of Jonathan, that your love for him means that you have to take care of him in a way that no one else can. 

In a way, you suppose that you and Hopper aren’t so different after all, and you gain a new sense of respect for the man. 

You swallow deeply and nod at him before excusing yourself to follow after Jonathan and Joyce. 

– 

The mother and son in question are a few blocks down the street, Joyce waving her son away as he follows her with the car. 

You sigh. 

This day definitely sucks. 

Running up to them is a pain in the ass, honestly. You get that you gave them some privacy, but damn. Did Jonathan seriously have to take the car as well? 

When you finally catch up, he’s parking. “Hey, what are you-” 

He doesn’t spare you a glance as he turns the engine off and runs after his mom. 

“Seriously?” You groan, clutching at a stitch in your side from running. Usually you’re a great runner, actually choosing to go for a run whenever you’re particularly stressed out or anxious. However with the shitshow that this week has been, you haven’t gone on your morning run in a while and you’re starting to feel the effects of being out of practice. 

Joyce, being surprisingly fast, is hard to catch up with, but you do your best as Jonathan sprints ahead of you. When he finally reaches her, he grabs at her jacket with a determined look in his eyes. 

You hang back, now regretting the fact that you left the coroner’s office in the first place. 

“Mom, stop!” 

“Just go home, Jonathan.”

“No, this is not an okay time for you to shut down.”

“Shut down… what-” The confusion in Joyce’s eyes is enough to make you feel Jonathan’s frustration as well. You feel for the woman, you really do, but she has another son to worry about. Jonathan is still here, he’s lost his own baby brother, he needs his mom now more than ever.

But Joyce, too lost in her own grief and desperation, can’t see that. 

“We have to deal with this, mom. We have to deal with the funeral!” You’ve never heard Jonathan raise his voice at his mom before, but after days of begging for her attention, you’re proud of him for defending himself.

The word “funeral” seems to snap Joyce out of her daze and once again she goes on her tangent about how Will’s body isn’t really back at the morgue, that he’s still alive, and Jonathan’s anger in his voice makes you ache. 

As he and his mom continue to yell at one another, a few nosy people in the town area stand and watch. They whisper to each other, no doubt about how Will’s death has made Joyce Byers crazy, and you kick a few rocks at them. 

“Fuck off! At least pretend that you aren’t a bunch of nosy assholes like most decent people do.” A woman sneers at you, but you wave your arms above your head, “Oh! Scary! Get fucked!” 

Eventually they do as they’re told and walk away from the screaming mother and son, which pleases you. 

You really hope that random lady wasn’t a patron of Bookstrordinary though. 

“Yeah, well, while you’re talking to the lights, Y/N and I will be planning a funeral for Will!” Jonathan’s voice is laced with bitterness as he screams at his mother, breaking your heart even more. “I’m not letting him sit in that freezer another day!” 

Joyce storms off, but you notice that her shoulders shake with tears as she leaves. 

It’s such a devastating situation, and while you’re also frustrated with the way she’s been treating Jonathan, you also know that maybe her craziness isn’t exactly “crazy”. El is still out there, even if you’re not sure where, and you think about how she was able to control the comic book and the game pieces. The static electricity you felt in the air when she used her powers, the same static you felt at the Byers’ home a few nights ago when Joyce came running outside with the lights flashing and Will’s song playing on the radio.

But then you think about how El promised that Will was alive. 

He isn’t; you see his dead body every time you close your eyes. 

So really, what is there to believe?

Lost in thought, you don’t notice Jonathan walking towards you until he grasps at your arm and flings you along back to the car with him. He’s breathing heavily and you notice that he’s shaking. He’s in no condition to drive. 

As you near the car you quickly reach around and grab his keys from his pocket before running over to the driver’s side and throwing yourself into the seat. Jonathan hates when you drive the car, not because you’re a bad driver, but because some part of him truly believes it’s impolite to make a girl drive. 

As cute as you think his chivalry is, today you couldn’t give more of a damn. 

Jonathan stands outside your door. “Y/N-”

“Nope, no time to argue, Byers. Get in.” 

“But-” 

“In.”

He does as he’s told, albeit with some attitude, but eventually the two of you are off. Without having to ask, you drive to the local funeral home. While you and Jonathan are similar in many ways, the one thing that pulls you together is planning. You both cling onto the stability that planning provides, and right now Jonathan is clinging onto his responsibilities for Will’s funeral.

Like he told his mom earlier, you and him have a funeral to plan. 

The funeral home is closer to the edge of Hawkins, so the drive is a longer one. Along the way Jonathan slowly begins to calm down, untensing his shoulders and releasing his clenched jaw. You let him take all the time he needs, thankful that for now you have some time to yourself to reflect over today’s revelation.

You love Jonathan. 

Those three words are heavy within your chest, and you almost don’t want to think about them, but you know that sooner or later you’ll have to. You glance at Jonathan, the late fall sun casts a warm glow on his face that for a brief moment brings back the boy you knew only a week ago, before everything changed. Then he turns to face you and you see the red in his eyes, his cheeks sunken in, and you know that you don’t have the time to unravel whatever you feel for him. 

He needs his best friend right now.

Jonathan’s voice breaks you from your thoughts, his voice cracking a bit from disuse. “Can we talk about yesterday?” 

You cast him a quick glance. “Yesterday?”

“Our… our fight, I guess.” 

“Oh,” you shift your hands on the steering wheel, now suddenly painfully aware of the silence within the car. “We don’t have to right now, bee. We should be focusing on the funeral arrangements.” 

Your voice catches on the word “funeral”, it still hasn’t sunk in yet that Will is really gone. 

“Bug, for the past eighteen hours all I’ve been thinking about is Will,” he takes a shaky breath and you gently place a hand on his, encouraging him to keep talking, “but when I’m not thinking about him… I’m thinking about you and what-what you said yesterday.” 

“I said a lot yesterday-” 

Jonathan gives you a pleading look. “Please just let me get this out, okay?”

You purse your lips but remain silent. 

“I will never, ever deserve you. This week and my actions have proven that. This isn’t some pathetic attempt to make you pity me, I was an asshole to you and I recognize that. You love people in a way that terrifies me, Y/N. You’re my best friend and I think I would actually die if I ever lost you.”

A snort escapes your lips, “you probably would.”

“I definitely would, but this isn’t about me. I’m so, so sorry for how I’ve been treating you lately and the fact that you’re driving me to a funeral home after watching my mom have a meltdown in the town square without even batting an eye is all the more proof that you’re too good for me.” 

“I wouldn’t say too good, but yeah. Close enough.”

“It’s more than enough, bug. That’s what terrifies me: I’m afraid that I’ll never be able to repay you for all that you’ve done for me, even before Will disappeared; you’ve been taking care of me since we were twelve.”

His words hang in the air as you allow them to wash over you. There’s so much you want to disagree with, namely the fact that he doesn't deserve you, but you know that he wouldn’t want to hear your arguments. 

Again you think about how similar the two of you are, and while you both give your all to the people that you love, your love comes freely while Jonathan has grown up believing that it comes with conditions. It’s never been a problem in your relationship until now, but you guess with how much you’ve been overcompensating for everything, the need to return it all has caught up with him. 

Finally, you speak. “You feel that you can’t accept my help because I’ve already done enough for you. Is that it?”

“Yeah,” Jonathan takes a deep breath. “I know it’s stupid, especially because I’m asking for your help right now with the funeral preparations, but…”

“I understand, but we’ll get through it,” you pull into the funeral home parking lot and turn the car off. “We always do, right?” 

“Right,” Jonathan’s smile is a weak one, but you accept it nonetheless. 

“Now, you ready to go look at children’s coffins like real men and women do?” 

He laughs at your poor attempt at a joke, but even he can admit that objectively the entire situation is morbid. “Only real best friends go coffin shopping together.” 

“My thoughts exactly, good sir.” Then, before you forget, you reach over and whack Jonathan’s head with the back of your hand. 

“Ow! What was that for?”

You shrug your shoulders, “ask Nancy.”

And with that, you unbuckle your seatbelt and head into the funeral home, trusting that Jonathan will follow eventually enough. Things aren’t exactly the same between the two of you, especially with your newfound feelings for him, but it’s a start. 

“I deserved that,” you hear Jonathan grumble, which makes you smile. 

You’ll take whatever you can get.

– 

You spot Nancy before Jonathan does. 

It wasn’t intentional, really, but the funeral home director was droning on and on about the different wood selections for coffins and finishes that you can customize and it all makes you want to throw up; the coffins before you are so small, you weren't really paying attention in the first place. 

She stands in the doorway and motions for you to get Jonathan’s attention, who is deeply focused on everything the old man is saying. A part of you wants to ignore the girl, but the scared look on her face tells you that this is something serious. 

You nudge your shoulder against Jonathan’s and point at Nancy; he excuses the two of you as you walk towards her. 

Jonathan shoves his hands in his pockets, a bit guarded. “Hey,”

“Hey, your mom, um… said you’d be here.” 

“You talked to Mrs. Byers?” You ask, feeling a sudden possessiveness over the woman. Sure, you were kind of okay sharing Jonathan with Nancy so long as she was with Harrington, but Joyce? She’s like a second mother to you.

It made you uneasy that Joyce even talked to her in the first place. 

Nancy tilts her head at you. “Yeah, it was only for a brief moment though. She seemed pretty… distracted.” 

“No shit. Her son died, Nancy.” 

The girl flinches a bit at your tone, which causes Jonathan to yank at your sleeve and shove you behind him. “Ignore her, we’ve had… Well, it’s been a long day.” 

You feel your shoulders drop and unclench your fists. “Sorry, is everything okay? Is it the boys?”

“No, they’re fine, I just,” Nancy’s eyes shoot towards you, uncertain, before directing them towards Jonathan. “Can we talk for a second?”

The photos Nancy shows you makes your blood run cold. They start with Barb sitting alone by the pool, but slowly she pulls out more and more pieces of the torn picture to create a terrifying image with a shadow-like figure looming over her friend. 

Jonathan tries to sum the shadow up to lens distortion, but you know that he’s wrong. Nancy asks more questions, trying to figure out exactly what has happened to Barb, but all you can think about is El. 

You check the time on your watch and curse. It’s late afternoon now, you’ve been gone with Jonathan since early this morning. Dustin hadn’t been in his room when you left and you stupidly assumed that he’d gone off to school. Now, seeing the picture of Barb and that thing… Something is so goddamn wrong. 

“The cops think that she ran away,” Nancy says. 

“Just like they did with Will,” you’re whispering more to yourself than to them, but Jonathan hears you anyway. 

“Maybe she did run away-” 

Nancy shakes her head. “No, she wouldn’t do that. They don’t know Barb. When I went back to Steve’s… I thought I saw something.”

Your head shoots up. “Nancy, what did you see?”

“Some weird man,” the urgence in your voice confuses the girl, but you silently push her to keep talking, “or… I don’t know what it was.”

Both you and Jonathan are quiet afterwards for very different reasons. 

He’s quiet because he probably thinks Nancy is crazy, just like his mom. 

You’re quiet because you’re currently afraid you’ve accidentally left your idiotic brother and his friends and El alone with very real monsters and possible bad men. The figure Nancy saw… El being terrified of bad people finding and hurting her…

Well shit. 

“I’m sorry, I-I shouldn’t have come here today-”

You stop Nancy from leaving. “No, you should stay… I think,” you look at Jonathan, nervous for how he may react to what you’re about to say. “I think I might have an idea of what you saw last night. A lot has happened since Will disappeared, things that I’m still trying to understand, but I think I know where to start finding an explanation.” 

Jonathan turns to you. “What? Why didn’t you say anything?”

“Technically I did try telling you a few nights ago but then you yelled at me and threw a jacket at my face-” 

“You threw a jacket at Y/N?” Nancy asks, which you and Jonathan ignore. 

“But for now I can’t tell you anything else. I made a promise, and I’m not sure I’m right or even sane for considering it an explanation, but we need to leave. Now.”

“A promise? To who?” There’s an edge of hurt in Jonathan’s voice and you desperately wish you could explain more to him, but now isn’t the time. Not with Nancy sitting between you two and her own brother involved. You don’t want to cause any unnecessary worry for her; right now she needs to focus on Barb. You’ll wrangle in the boys, it’s your fault they’re even alone right now with El.

“I can’t exactly say who, but just trust me, okay? Again: I really hope I’m just insane and worried about nothing and that this will all be an embarrassing laugh for us later.”

“Y/N-”

“Jonathan, we need to go.” 

“‘We’?” Nancy now speaks up, seemingly fed up by your vague exchange with Jonathan.

You try to collect yourself and pretend like you have some amazing plan. “Yes, we. Jonathan will take you to the photo developing room at school and see if you can make the pictures clearer. On the way there, he’ll drop me off at home so I can grab my bike and head out.”

“And what will you be doing?” The boy asks.

“Tracking down my brother, unfortunately.” 

He gives you a doubtful look. “C’mon, you can’t expect me to just let you run off on your own without more of an explanation.” 

You know he’s right, but you just… you can’t tell him about El and the bad men yet. You can’t. Not until you know for sure what the hell is happening. 

“I’m sure it’s nothing… but just in case, I really need to find Dustin, okay?” 

I’m a really, really bad babysitter, you think. 

Jonathan opens his mouth again as if to argue, but you hold your hand up to silence him. You really don’t want to waste time fighting with him. He has to trust you on this, whether he likes it or not. 

He sighs with defeat, “Just be safe, please.”

You also really don’t want to put anyone else in danger. It’s bad enough that you allowed the boys to get dragged into this mess, but you refuse to drag your best friend in as well. But really, who knows? Maybe you’re just a regular idiot who believes in fairy tales and monsters, not some idiot who leaves three overly naive boys alone with a girl with superpowers. 

God you hope you’re just a regular idiot. 

However, if Joyce believes that Will is alive, even without the knowledge of El and her powers, then you’re sure that the boys also believe he’s alive and will inevitably go looking for him again. Alone. In the same woods Nancy saw that strange figure. 

You cast those thoughts out of your head and give Jonathan what you hope is a reassuring smile. “When am I not safe?”

You really, truly hope that you’re just an idiot, but if the photos that you just saw scare you. Before he can change his mind, you quickly reach over and snatch Jonathan’s keys from his jacket and give him a peck on the cheek before running out to his car.

“I call shotgun, Nancy!”

– 

Unsurprisingly, the drive with Nancy and Jonathan is an awkward one. Things are still a bit tense between you and him for reasons you’re not sure you can tell him about just yet, and now Nancy is in the backseat trying not to make any sound, so really it was a doomed car ride from the start. 

It’s not that you don’t like the girl, but there’s something about the way she acts around Jonathan that honestly makes you want to collapse. You know she’s with Harrington, but the tenderness Jonathan has shown her the few times they’ve interacted makes you uneasy. 

Yesterday you chalked the uneasiness to simply never sharing Jonathan before, but now you know the truth. 

You’re jealous because you’re in love with him. 

It’s a nauseating feeling. 

“So, how long have the two of you been friends?” Nancy’s question surprises you, mostly because she should already know the answer. You know she’s just trying to make conversation, but the question itself further reminds you of why the two of you had drifted apart in the first place. 

“I moved here when I was twelve, remember? Your family helped us move in.” 

“Oh, right. Sorry,” You see Nancy nervously playing with her fingers in the rearview mirror, which makes you feel bad. She’s trying, you know she is. 

“It’s fine,” you try to catch her eye, and when you do you give her a smile. “I know you probably don’t remember much from that day. It was the middle of the school year and our brothers immediately started being annoying together, so you had gone inside after only a couple minutes.” 

Nancy laughs, now remembering that day. “Didn’t Mike hold an initiation for Dustin that night?” 

“Yeah,” you laugh with her now. “That’s actually how Jonathan and I met. Remember, bee?” 

Jonathan’s smile is a soft one, a smile that makes you feel weak because you know you’re the reason it’s there. “Of course I do. We both showed up at the Wheeler’s house at the same time to pick up our brothers.” 

“And then-” 

“I answered the door.” Nancy finishes for you. 

“Yup. Ever since then, Jonathan hasn’t been able to get rid of me.” 

“It’s been horrible,” he says with a monotone voice, but it’s clear to everyone that he’s joking. 

You punch his shoulder. “You weren’t complaining when I saved you from those bullies later that week.” 

Jonathan gives you a pointed look and tries to subtly motion towards Nancy, clearly embarrassed that you've brought the bullies up in front of her. Like he wants her to think he’s someone cooler than he really is. 

Your smile vanishes. 

He wants to impress her. 

“Right, sorry,” you clear your throat and if Nancy notices your sudden mood change, she doesn’t say anything. You squeeze your eyes shut for a moment and remind yourself that what matters right now are the boys and El. They should be your priority, not petty boy drama. 

Luckily Jonathan pulls into your driveway not long after the abrupt conversation ending, which you’re thankful for. 

You unbuckle your seatbelt and turn to face Nancy, and it takes everything in you to force a smile on your face. “Alright, well, this is my stop! Nancy, I’m trusting you to tell me whatever you and Jonathan find. I’d ask him to keep me updated, but I know he’ll inevitably forget.”

The girl nods at you. “You can trust me.” 

Can I?

Although you’re not exactly sure what it is that you don’t think you can trust her with. Then, your eyes drift to Jonathan and the way he’s staring at her from his own mirror, and you realize that maybe she’s not the one you should be worried about. 

“Good,” you turn to Jonathan now. “I’ll call you later, okay?”

“And I’ll answer… probably.” 

“You’re so sweet to me.”

“I know, right?” 

You snort at the boy and wave goodbye to him and Nancy before getting out of the car. Your bike is in the shed, so you motion to Jonathan that he’s good to leave. When he’s sure you’re okay, he waves at you one last time and drives away. 

It feels like you’ve made a huge mistake as you watch Jonathan and Nancy leave, but you don’t have time to think about why. Dustin’s bike isn’t in the shed alongside yours, which you expected, and you have to find him. 

Your brother and his idiotic friends need you right now. 

– 

For the second time within a week, Steve Harrington almost kills you with his stupid BMW. Granted, the first time wasn’t necessarily his fault due to your crying, but this time just felt personal. 

“Henderson!”

“Jesus Christ-” You’re biking to the Wheeler’s, lost in thought as the sun begins to set, when stupid Harrington scares the shit out of you. 

His unexpected shouting from the other side of the road causes you to swerve your bike towards his car and he has to slam on his brakes to avoid hitting you. 

“Do you, like, have a fantasy about me hitting you with my car?” 

You glare at the boy. “You are a man, I am a woman. It’s getting dark outside. What exactly made you think it’s a good idea to yell out at me?”

“Well, I mean, I called after you.” He says, so matter of factly that it makes you want to strangle him. 

You hate him. You really do.

A strand of hair has fallen in your face, so you blow it away before bothering to answer. “My apologies, you called after me and almost killed me in the process.”

Steve winks at you. “Apology accepted.” 

You stare at him, unamused and still in the middle of the damn road, and after a couple beats of silence you cock your head at the boy. “Are you going to tell me what you need or…?”

“Oh,” Steve coughs, as if startled by your question. “Honestly I didn’t really have a plan when I called after you. I just kinda did, so…” 

“Right, well.” You clench your jaw in annoyance. Why are you even surprised that Harrington has wasted your time? “This was fun, let’s never do it again sometime!”

You ride off on your bike, trying to quickly get up the hill so that you can get to the Wheeler’s before it gets too dark to see. The hill is brutal and it’s almost embarrassing how long it’s taking you to get up it, and as you’re huffing and dripping in sweat, headlights come up from behind you. 

“You’ve gotta be kidding me,” you groan. 

Steve’s car is now right next to you, the fucker having done a complete u-turn to follow after you. His window is still rolled down and he has one hand on the steering wheel and the other hanging out his window. 

“Hello again, Henderson.” 

“I never said hello back to you.” 

“C’mon, at least pretend to be happy to see me.”

You let out another groan as you continue to struggle up the hill. “I physically cannot do that, sorry.” 

Steve, ever the comedian, responds, “It doesn’t seem like you can physically get up this hill either.” 

You don’t give him the satisfaction of laughing, but you’re a bit annoyed that his quip was funny. What a jackass, honestly. 

“Henderson,” your silence doesn’t deter the boy, “just get in the damn car already.”

Once again you almost crash into the BMW, this time because of your complete shock at his request.

“What?”

He gives you a look as if you’re the insane one in this situation. “You’re sweatier than I am after basketball, and at the rate you’re going I’d say you’ll reach your destination in about three to five business days.”

You stare at him, speechless. 

He stares back at you with a smirk on his smug little face, knowing that he’s won the argument. “Get in the car and I’ll throw your bike in the back.” 

You do as he says, your mind completely blank and still taken aback. Sweatier than him after basketball? There’s no way that’s true, and also who says that to someone they barely even know? As if you’re really that sweaty-

You see your reflection in his car mirror and wince. 

Okay, so maybe you’re a little sweaty. 

Fuck Steve Harrington. 

The boy in question tosses your bike in the trunk as you hesitantly get in the car. He watches as you sit yourself down and laughs. “It’s a car, Henderson. It won’t bite.” 

“Yeah, but you might.” You slap a hand over your mouth, embarrassed by the implications of your words. 

Steve raises an eyebrow at you as he turns the car back on. “Careful there, last I checked you’re a taken lady.”

The embarrassment you previously felt is gone, now replaced with your usual annoyance when it comes to Steve. You think about what he did yesterday to Jonathan’s camera, the cruelty in his eyes as he watched the thing shatter onto the ground. He didn’t show any remorse, and while you understand that he had been defending his girlfriend, he had taken it too far. 

“How many times do I have to tell you that Jonathan and I are just friends?” 

“Please,” Steve huffs with amusement, “the two of you have been inseparable for years. Besides, no way a guy like Byers can just be friends with a girl like you. Not scientifically possible.” 

You wrinkle your nose. “What’s ‘a girl like you’ supposed to mean?” Then another thought occurs to you, “Also, you didn’t even know my name until this week, so don’t go acting like you know my relationship with Jonathan.”

“Relax, Henderson. It was a compliment. All I meant is that you’re decently pretty, all things considered, so I wouldn’t blame Byers if he was in love with you. It’s human nature.”

“Okay, that’s just really sexist-”

“As for knowing your name only this week, you’re wrong.”

“I’m sorry?” You ask, confused. 

Steve places a hand over his chest, almost as if he’s reaching for his heart. “Apology accepted, it means a lot to me.”

“Ugh,” you scoff at him. “That wasn’t an apology and you know it. Can you just take me to the Wheeler’s, please?”

“Woah, slow down there. First I need you to tell me why you thought I didn’t know your name, then I’ll take you to my girlfriend’s house. Free of charge.” 

If you didn’t know any better, you’d think that you see some offense in Steve’s eyes for thinking he only recently learned your name, but why would he care? Besides, you know he’s never paid any attention to you before this week.

“It was literally this week that I had to tell you my name after you almost hit me with your car, Harrington.”

“Okay, hey,” the boy holds a finger up. “Actually, you almost hit me with your bike because you were too busy hysterically sobbing.”

He’s right, but you won’t tell him that. Minor details, honestly. You’re about to tell him as much before you realize what he’s said. “Wait, you knew I had been crying?”

Steve gives you a well, duh look. “Yeah, that’s why I pretended not to know your name. Figured you wouldn’t want to talk about it and the least I could do was make you laugh. And viola, I did.” 

He had willingly tried to make you laugh?

His words make you flush, which seems to only amuse him further as he chuckles at you. You wave your hand at him, now more annoyed than ever. “Okay, fine. Whatever, so you knew my name before this week, big whoop. Can you just drive now?”

“I’ll take that as an ‘I’m sorry Steve for assuming you’re an asshole who hadn’t noticed a girl you’ve known since you were thirteen’, then.” Steve takes the car out of park and begins to drive to the Wheeler’s which you’re relieved by. 

You feel uncomfortably warm after that conversation, regardless of the fact that you’re still overheated from your biking. There’s no way that Steve has seriously known about you since you were twelve and he was thirteen. No, you decide that he must be lying, playing up his usual boyish charm. He’s been this untouchable entity ever since you moved to Hawkins, so why would he have paid any attention to you?

Then your mind floats to his compliment, calling you “decently pretty”, but then again not even five minutes earlier he stated that you sweat more than he does after basketball, so really his words should mean nothing.  

And yet, after the week you’ve had and your fight with Jonathan and Will’s death and El’s mysterious powers… 

Steve’s words make you a bit giddy, embarrassingly enough. You hate that they do, because he’s Steve Harrington and he’s with Nancy who is beautiful and kind and everything you’re not. It doesn’t matter what he thinks of you. 

You pick at your nails as he drives, the car silent, and you accidentally graze against the cut on your finger from yesterday. It’s scabbed over by now, but the pain is still fresh. 

“I know that what Jonathan did was wrong, I won’t excuse his actions. Standing up for Nancy was the right thing to do and I admire you for it, really,” Steve spares you a glance as he drives, nodding his head slightly to indicate that he’s listening. “But breaking Jonathan’s camera wasn’t.” 

He groans. “Nancy said the same thing, but what’s the big deal? The creep shouldn’t have access to a camera if he can’t use it properly.”

The slight warmth that Steve had somehow put in your chest dissipates at his words. “Jonathan isn’t a creep, but regardless of the situation, the big deal is this: not everyone can afford a fancy BMW and Raybans. Not everyone in Hawkins lives in a giant mansion with a pool. He worked so hard to afford that camera, it’s not something that he can just buy again on a whim.” 

Steve shifts uncomfortably in his seat. “Henderson, you know I didn’t mean it like that-”

“I know, but it was still a shitty thing to do.”

The silence that settles in the car is a heavy one, and you almost feel bad for Steve. You know he hadn’t thought about the repercussions of his actions, but you suppose that the fact that he hadn’t considered the price of a camera was proof enough of his naivety. 

When you get to the Wheeler’s, Steve gets out of the car to help you with your bike. He doesn’t let you do a thing, so you stand there and awkwardly watch. You can tell that he’s trying to make up for his actions from yesterday, which you appreciate. 

“Thank you,” you say once he places the bike down. 

“All in a day’s work.” Steve responds, wiping his hands off on his jeans. 

As he turns to leave, you stop him. “And thank you for earlier this week, ya know, for making me laugh after falling off my bike. I, uh, appreciate it.” 

He seems surprised by your sincerity, but he smiles. “Again: all in a day’s work. And listen, I’m sorry about Byers’ camera,” Then he quickly adds, as if afraid he won’t have the nerve to later, “I’m sorry about Will, too. I figure you were close with him and now he’s…”

His words trail off, not wanting to say the word “dead”, which you can’t blame him for. 

“For what it’s worth, I don’t think you’re a bad person.” Steve turns to face you now, your words catching his undivided attention. “You just have the worst taste in friends, but when you aren’t around them… I guess you’re alright.” 

He laughs a bit, but there’s a certain emotion in his eyes that you can’t quite name; you have to stop yourself from leaning in closer to him. Suddenly the space between you feels too close and you take a step back, but as you move you feel Steve’s hand ruffle your hair. “I guess you’re ‘alright’ too, Henderson.” 

You watch as he leaves, standing in the Wheeler’s driveway for longer than necessary. You place your hand on your head and find yourself smiling, the warmth of his touch still faintly there.

-

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[a-deep-ocean-of-secrets]

Home Is Where I Want to Be (But I Guess I'm Already There)

Summary:

The thing is, Buck didn't mean to move in with Tommy.

Read below or on AO3 (3.8k words)

The thing is, Buck didn't mean to move in with Tommy.

Those first few giddy weeks and months (like bubbly champagne buzzing through his veins every time he saw Tommy’s smile, kissed Tommy’s full lips, found himself tangled in Tommy’s bed sheets) of staying over in his boyfriend's cozy, Venice bungalow have him living almost exclusively out of his trusty duffle bag. Which isn't a big deal. He's used to lugging that ratty thing back and forth from the firehouse to his apartment. 

Can it be annoying sometimes? Sure. His clothes are constantly wrinkled (which majorly sucks when he's trying to dress to impress on date nights) and he's always forgetting or running out of one toiletry or another. If it’s not his deodorant then it’s his mouthwash. If it’s not his aftershave then it’s his moisturizer. Minor inconveniences, really, but worth it every time to wake up in Tommy's king-sized bed with Tommy's strong arms wrapped around him and Tommy's hot breath on the back of his neck.  

It doesn't take long for that to change. Like a seed beginning to take root, Tommy, as he’s done since the very beginning, makes room for Buck in his life. Just as he opened his helicopter to Buck and his friends and flew them headfirst into a raging hurricane on nothing more than an outlandish hunch. The same way he took time out of his busy schedule to grant Buck a private tour of Harbor Station and answered all his jumbled questions as Buck nipped at his heels like an overeager golden retriever, tail wagging a mile a minute, wanting nothing more than to be closerclosercloser to the cool guy with a megawatt grin, who called him ‘Evan’ and had his heart skipping a beat even if he couldn’t identify the why of it all at the time.  

So it’s not a surprise at all when he carves out precious space in his closet and lets Buck's colorful and patterned button-ups and polos blend in with Tommy's neutral henleys and shackets. They’re two big guys with a penchant for working out, so their wide array of tank tops, sweatpants, and basketball shorts become indistinguishable from each other. Their LAFD-issued shirts are so interwoven that they've given up trying to tell them apart and frequently go to work wearing the other's name branded on their backs, much to their coworkers’ loud and endless amusement. 

Buck’s grapefruit shampoo and citrus body wash relocate to the shower niche alongside Tommy's own sandalwood and frankincense-scented products. On the vanity, Buck's red toothbrush is a companion to Tommy's green one. 

All these minute modifications to Tommy’s home are simple and understandable ripple effects of Buck regularly spending a few nights a week there. 

The offshoots of that single seed deepen into winding vines without Buck even noticing. 

First, it's Buck's lucky set of boxing gloves hanging innocently alongside Tommy's Muay Thai gear in the garage. After a frustrating and tedious shift, he enjoys nothing more than a few vigorous rounds with Tommy’s punching bag. Then, Buck's large and varied assortment of books (ranging from biographies on famous figures such as Marie Curie to The Book of 10,000 Incredible Facts to the new YA fantasy series that is all the rage among Christopher and his friends) slowly but steadily find a home among Tommy's WWI & II aviation history collection on the shelves of the reclaimed redwood bookcase Tommy crafted by hand. 

His favorite cast iron skillet and Instant Pot take up permanent residence in Tommy's kitchen, alongside his garlic press and waffle maker. His 'Buck Off' coffee mug (a gag gift from the 118) is always ready to go for lavender and daffodil-colored mornings spent on Tommy's front porch overlooking the canal as kayaks and paddle boards drift by in the early morning light. The sinfully soft, ocean blue afghan Carla knitted for him during the pandemic is draped over the back of Tommy's unfairly comfortable sectional. Christopher’s US History textbook is lying open on the coffee table, left behind after a pizza and study session. The newest season of The Bachelor (the combined forces of Maddie, Chimney, and Josh got him hooked. What can he say? He loves love.) is TiVoed on Tommy's flatscreen TV. His Jeep has its own designated spot next to Tommy's ’71 Bronco. 

The roots of their budding relationship grow deeper and extend farther than the eye can see. 

Buck's most cherished brand of coffee is readily available in the kitchen cabinets. His all-time favorite blend just so happens to be named The Beast. A fun fact that never fails to stop him from leering at Tommy and waggling his eyebrows every time he brews a cup. His favorite cereal is stocked in the cupboards and his favorite yogurt is in the fridge. The same fridge that is currently plastered with Jee-Yun's vibrant crayon drawings alongside pictures of Tommy’s nieces and nephews in Chicago. A true collage of sparkly princesses and menacing dragons beside Polaroids of beaming faces on the sandy shore of Lake Michigan and sitting in the stands of Wrigley Field with messy hotdogs and giant foam fingers. 

Even food Tommy turns his perfect, aquiline nose up to but Buck loves (like quinoa and chirimoya) are now staples in his pantry. His most treasured cookbook, battered with stained, dog-eared pages with the margins filled in with his own corrections in his scratchy scrawl, holds a place of honor on Tommy's countertop on a wooden stand Tommy scrounged up at the local flea market. 

He has to rack his brain to remember the last time he spent a night at the loft. The last time he had been there, to pick up some clothes from his rapidly depleting wardrobe, it had looked even emptier and barer than usual with hardly any food in the fridge, the bed sheets stale and unloved, and a thin layer of dust on his kitchen island. The industrial, modern space had felt cold and clinical and nothing like a living, breathing home. 

It lacked the wooden floors Tommy had spent weeks refinishing as he lovingly sought out the perfect stain. It lacked the extra-long, extra-wide hammock hanging off Tommy’s back patio where Buck delighted in taking the occasional catnap on sunny afternoons. The loft hadn't inspired even a fraction of the warmth that Tommy's home did every time he walked through the door with the key Tommy had given him three months in, dangling from a helicopter keychain that made him grin like a dope whenever he pulled it free from his pocket. 

Buck doesn't realize any of these very important and essential truths until one morning when he nearly trips over his running shoe that was lying discarded by the front door. At the sound of his clumsy stumble, Baron, Tommy's five-year-old Shepkita ("That's not a word, Evan. He's an Akita Shepherd.”), raises his head from where he's lounging on his overstuffed dog bed, exhausted from their early morning run at the beach. 

At the sight of Buck being Buck, Baron lets out a jaw-cracking yawn and puts his head back down to resume his beauty sleep. Kicking the offending sneaker out of the way, Buck stops dead center in the living room, hands on his hips and wearing Tommy’s faded USC sweater that’s been worn soft from years of washings and smells tantalizingly of Tommy’s laundry detergent, and can't help but survey the terrain and take stock of how much of himself is residing in Tommy's space. He's visible in every nook and cranny. 

He has completely, and totally, infiltrated Tommy's home. 

The thought instantly fills him with indescribable joy that blossoms like radiant sunflowers inside his chest. For all of ten seconds. He then remembers the last time he unknowingly moved in with someone and the heartbreaking consequences of it.

Abby.  

She had been so terribly sad and broken in the wake of her mother's death. It had been as easy as breathing for Buck to step up, to prove himself, to try and do everything in his power to fix her with his love and devotion. So he stayed with her day and night, and his things had steadily trickled into her apartment. It had been easier back then to do, he had had so little to his name other than the Jeep and his clothes. And he can't lie, it was a relief to get out of that glorified frat house filled with Connor and the others. 

It had seemed natural to move in with Abby (even if she had been unaware of it). He thought they were building something special together, something made to last. He hadn't known at the time that while he saw a new beginning, she saw entrapment. For her, she would be trading one role of caretaker for another. Going from a sick mother to a young punk (at 26, he had still been a kid) who was stumbling like a newborn giraffe through his first serious relationship. Had she stayed, there would have been so much handholding on her part as he continued to figure out all the volatile nuances of life and commitment. And that hadn't been fair of him to ask that of her when she was so vulnerable, he understands that now with valuable time and distance. She had been so lost that the only thing she could do to find herself again was travel halfway across the world and leave him behind in the process. 

He had lived (however briefly) with Abby. He was living with Tommy, even if he hadn't clocked it until just now. 

And he wants it, he realizes with a jolt not unlike the bolt of lightning that had struck him. He wants to live with Tommy. He wants to wake up with him every morning and come home to him every night (demanding schedules permitting, of course). He wants their high-energy workout sessions that always turn into a different kind of workout and their sunset strolls through the canals with an enthusiastic Baron (complete with goofy selfies in front of David Hasselhoff’s house from Baywatch). He wants their weekends at the Venice Farmers' Market. He wants their monthly meetings of the LGBTIQA+ book club that Hen and Karen started and that Tommy and Buck have hosted twice now inside this very house. 

He wants Tommy. Plain and simple. He always wants Tommy. Tommy, who has the world’s worst fake mouth static, but jokingly brags all the same about winning a medal for it. Tommy, who acts big and tough on the job and up in the air, but he never fails to shed a tear whenever they watch the climax of a romantic comedy. Tommy, who always has a heating pad and massage waiting on standby for rainy days when the pain in Buck’s bum leg flares up like relentless flames. 

Tommy, who has no idea that they're living together. 

An icy sliver of fear sluices down his back at the terrifying thought that once Tommy learns they're essentially playing house with each other he might turn tail and run away, just like Abby did. Or, perhaps, even worse, he won't run, but he won't want Buck here anymore either. He can already see it in crystal clear HD: Tommy's handsome face shuttering to stone as it does when he's uncomfortable but doesn’t want to show it. His blue eyes darting away and his lips thinning into a brittle line as he tells Buck that this is all moving far too fast, that maybe they should take a step back and put some space between them, and then Buck will be banished back to his sad, pathetic loft that doesn't have Tommy waiting for him in it. 

He cuts the catastrophizing off at the knees before it can spiral into something far more treacherous. Tommy, for all his flaws — he drinks orange juice straight from the carton like a Neanderthal and he doggedly believes that his directions are better than the GPS ("I spend most of my time in the air, Evan. I know all the shortcuts throughout Los Angeles County.") — isn't the kind of man who runs away from a fight when the going gets tough. He's the kind of man who digs his heels in and comes out swinging the next round. And he's been nothing but kind to Buck the entire time they've known each other. He enforces tough love when he deems fit, but it always comes from a place of kindness and gentleness. 

They love each other. And they live together. It's time Tommy knows it. 

So, screwing his courage to the sticking place (Jee-Yun loves Beauty and the Beast), Buck shuffles his way into the kitchen where his boyfriend is manning the stove and making their breakfast. In the oven, a frittata bakes away in Buck’s cast iron skillet and on the stovetop, turkey bacon sizzles as it fries. Tommy, hair curly and wet from his earlier shower, flips crispy pieces while humming along to The National playing softly in the background on the radio. 

God, Buck adores this man with everything in him. 

Tommy catches him out of the corner of his eye hovering there like a massive dweeb and flashes a dazzling smile his way. 

“Hey, babe. What was that noise I heard?” 

He can feel an embarrassed blush rapidly bloom across his cheeks until his face is as pink and splotchy as his birthmark. “Oh. That was just me. I, uh, tripped over my running shoe,” he lamely explains. 

“They can be quite the menace,” Tommy says with his usual brand of wry humor. He chuckles quietly to himself as he turns his attention back to the mouthwatering bacon. For a tempting moment, Buck just wants to forget the stunning revelation he’s had and instead stay in this blissful, domestic bubble that seems to exist whenever the two of them are alone together. It doesn’t matter where they are or what they’re doing, there’s just an undeniable ease to the two of them existing in the same space, breathing the same air, hearts beating in tandem. 

But, alas, he’s a man on a mission. 

Reaching up and rubbing awkwardly at the back of his neck, Buck thinks through his options. He’s come to learn, through many a messy trial and error, that honestly truly is the best policy. The last time he had so thoroughly ignored the elephant in the room was when he had asked Taylor to move in with him for all the wrong reasons. 

That had been a train wreck of epic proportions, even for him. He had well and truly bucked that situation up beyond repair. 

But that was then and this was now. And the only things Tommy and Taylor had in common were their initials and their partiality to cruising around LA in helicopters. His feelings for them were night and day as well. He had loved Taylor, but by the exhausting end of their relationship, he hadn’t genuinely liked her anymore as a person. They were too different, their morals too misaligned to exist harmoniously together. It isn’t like that with Tommy. He both loves and likes practically everything about his fellow firefighter, even the traits and bad habits that annoy the ever-living shit out of him. 

“So, hey, I, uh, kinda just realized something…pretty important.” 

Smooth start. And to think, before he met Tommy he had honestly had game. But something about the self-assured pilot, from the moment they met on the tarmac at Harbor and he introduced himself as Evan instead of his standard Buck, had him tripping over his tongue in both the best and worst ways. His foot-in-mouth syndrome had ruined their first date and nearly all chances he had had with Tommy, but it was that same unfiltered nature of his that had Tommy granting him another shot and scoring him as his plus one to Maddie and Chimney’s wedding that never was. 

Which reminds him: he owes Tommy a dance. He files that tidbit into his mental to-do list for another day. 

Tommy looks at him with a quizzical raise of his brow as he lazily twirls the spatula in his hand. “What? Found some more facts about that jellyfish? What’s it called? The spotted—“

“Chriodectes maculatus,” Buck corrects automatically. “Or more commonly known as the spotted box jellyfish. Only the rarest jellyfish in the world, I might add.” 

The corner of Tommy’s lush lips curl up into a fond half-smile. “Yeah, that’s the one. I thought you exhausted all knowledge on it last night when we watched that documentary.” 

“In the words of Chinese philosopher Zhuang Zhou, ‘Life is finite, while knowledge is infinite.’ So, no, I’ll never know enough about jellyfish, rare or otherwise, to exhaust myself, Thomas.” 

Tommy mouths ‘Thomas’ to himself and looks to be gearing up a quippy retort of his own when Buck realizes with tightening dread that he’s on the road to derailing this potentially monumental conversation with talk of jellyfish, of all things. Honestly, he can’t even believe himself half the time. 

Time to pivot. 

“Forget about the jellyfish. They’re not important right now.” 

Swiveling his broad-shouldered body, Tommy gives him his full attention as his eagle-eyed gaze slowly sweeps over the entirety of Buck’s 6’2” frame. Buck, for his part, staunchly fights the urge to fidget as he knows it would give him away in an instant. There’s something almost surgical in the way that Tommy, without ever saying a word, can expertly peel back all the layers of bone and marrow of Buck’s psyche down to his bleeding center where his festering insecurities and crippling self-doubt reside. 

If it were anyone else it’d feel violently invasive. But Tommy has only ever treated these undesirable parts of him with the tenderest of care, delicately stitching up invisible wounds Buck hadn’t even known existed until the moment Tommy kissed him in his kitchen and completely shook the bedrock of all his pre-conceived notions about himself. 

“Sounds serious,” he says after a moment of contemplative silence. The only sound in the kitchen is the hiss of the bacon roasting away on the stove. Through the window over the sink, a beam of sunlight shines in and bathes Tommy in its golden rays. 

Buck heavily exhales a breath out between his teeth. “It is. Or, it could be. Maybe. It really depends on how you look at it, I guess.” 

“Look at what?” Tommy asks, even-keeled as ever. It’d be infuriating if it wasn’t such a damn turn-on. 

It’s now or never. 

“Look at the fact that… We kinda, almost…sorta, seem to be living with each other?” 

Tommy freezes to the spot, his eyes going wide as he blinks, coming off as a perturbed owl for a moment before he schools his features back into his usual calm facade. He looks back down at the bacon and quickly flips some pieces before they can turn into a charred mess of meat. 

Composure regained, he asks, “Was that a question or a statement?” 

He’s always lightning-quick to toss the proverbial ball back into Buck’s court. Always willing to let him take the lead in their relationship and set the parameters and boundaries. Without fail, where Buck goes Tommy follows. It had been a sweet relief in the early days of their relationship when Buck was stumbling around blind, but nine months in and Buck needs Tommy on equal footing with him. It’s the only way forward. 

“It’s, uh, a statement.” Damn. That didn’t sound convincing at all. Closing his eyes and centering himself the way Dr. Copeland taught him, he slowly takes a deep breath, and then another, and then one more for good measure, opens his eyes, and looks Tommy square in the eye. “It’s a statement. We’re, for all intents and purposes, living together. And I want, no, I need to know what you think about…that.” 

Tommy’s gaze slides away and catches sight of Buck’s mug already topped off with his second cup of coffee for the day as swirling mist rises off of it. He sees Buck’s LAFD hoodie hanging off the back of one of the stools situated at the island. He spots Jee-Yun’s drawings on the fridge, giving the stainless steel appliance so much color and joy. He spies the Fokker Dr. I triplane chew toy Buck specialty ordered for Baron lying on the floor near the dining table. 

Tommy’s home hasn’t just been Tommy’s home in quite some time. 

He spots every single change that Buck has brought into his house with his very presence, and he gathers them to him like they’re the most precious of jewels. He turns to Buck and smiles at him. 

It nearly stops Buck’s heart for a moment. 

He loves all of Tommy’s smiles. He loves his smirk when he’s said something particularly snarky or deadpan. He loves the closed-mouth grin he does when Buck is batting his eyes and pouting and Tommy is steadfastly pretending he isn’t endeared by the silliness. He loves the smug curve of his lips when Tommy moves just right inside of him, hitting that elusive, perfect spot that has him seeing stars and clutching Tommy tighter to him until he can’t tell one limb from another. 

But this, this is his favorite Tommy smile by a far-flung mile. 

It is simply radiant. His smile is wide and open, with his straight, white teeth brilliantly on display. It stretches broadly across his rugged face, exposing his deep-set dimples on either side of his ample mouth. His nose adorably scrunches and his eyes are squinty with unbridled happiness. At the corners of his eyes, his crow’s feet spread like tiny estuaries spooling into the grooves of his tan skin. 

He looks boyish and carefree. And so very in love. 

All because of Buck. He was the cause of such boundless euphoria. No one has ever loved him the way Tommy unashamedly does. 

“What I think is,” Tommy says clearly and concisely, “I think we should make it official. What do you say, Evan? Will you move in with me?” 

Buck feels like he was socked in the gut, but only in the very best of ways. His breath is stolen from his body and he doesn’t even know if his feet are still on the ground or if he’s simply floated away with how incandescently lighthearted he feels at this very moment. 

“Y-You really mean that? You want to live together?” 

It never hurts to double-check. He does that every time with his faithful clipboard. It is truly the only way to be efficient. 

Tommy’s smile only widens further. “Evan. You’re my favorite person in the world. Of course, I want to live with you.” 

The sunflowers inside Buck’s chest come to full bloom. 

He and Tommy live together.

[fcwoso]

Morning motivation · Alexia Putellas

Summary: alexia needed motivation to conquer the day, reader makes a poor attempt and somehow succeeds (fluffy)

MASTERLIST

Alexia was a major perfectionist. Everything had to go well from the beginning of the match until the final whistle. It was impossible, though. Football was an unpredictable sport, but not for the Spanish midfielder. No, she had it under control, that's what she had convinced herself throughout the years as a professional. She felt this intense fear of failure, afraid of breaking the promise she made to herself years ago. She promised to be the best at what’s she’s doing in order to make her family, fans and loved ones proud. Somehow, it turned into an unhealthy mindset, pushing herself to the maximum each time she felt like she didn't do enough.

This mindset got worse when she came back from her ACL injury. Insecurity kicked in once she started to play along her teammates who she currently almost considered as competition. The two Ballon d’Or awards didn’t do enough convincing, even though she saw them every morning right after she woke up. She needed more. She needed reassurance and she found it in you.

‘’Ale, you really need to get up. Training is about to start.’’ You two were currently laying in your bed, Alexia’s alarm had woken up the both of you. She had a match at noon, but Jonatan decided to plan in an early training, just to make sure everyone’s ready and in good form. You heard a small groan leave your lover’s mouth and immediately knew she was having one of those days. A strong arm was resting on your waist, pulling you closer. She wished she could just forget her obligations and continue the nice sleep she was having, but she couldn't. The whole team was counting on her, the captain had to put her own wishes aside in order to fulfill theirs.

You squeezed Alexia’s tense shoulder before stroking her warm cheek, pushing away the streaks of hair that were covering her tired face. You saw an adorable pout forming on the blonde and couldn’t help but chuckle at her childlike antics. ‘’Are you seriously laughing at me?’’ She mumbled and finally opened her eyes, face partly disappearing in her pillow. You shook your head before leaning in to press a few gentle kisses on her forehead, making the small frown disappear and decided to keep this closeness.

‘’Of course not, I could never do that.’’ Was the reply that left your mouth, it was an honest one. You could never laugh at Alexia’s misery, as she would call it because that’s how she experienced this chaos. A training bag was laying in the corner of the room, untouched by the woman who’s legs were still entangled with yours under the cozy, warm covers.

You quickly pressed a kiss to her nose to prevent her eyes from closing because you knew how fast she could fall asleep again. ‘’Can we switch for today, bebita (baby)?’’ Alexia began. ‘’I get to sleep in, and you can wear my jersey. You know how much I love it when you do.’’ The distance between you got smaller, non-existent, as she rested her head on your chest and listened to the sound of your heartbeat. You played with her hair and stayed silent, thinking of some encouraging words.

‘’You’re Alexia Putellas.’’ Was the first thing that left your mouth. You heard a small laugh, feeling Alexia’s grip on you loosening a bit as she rested her chin on your chest. Her hazel eyes staring into your serious ones, not completely understanding the context behind the words you just spit out. ‘’That’s me.’’ She nodded. ‘’And?’’ Was the next thing she asked, trying to hide her smile. She got curious, the stern expression on your face not giving away a hint of what you were thinking of.

You shifted your hands from her shoulders to her cheeks and held them firmly while leaving patterns with your thumbs. ‘’That’s it. That’s literally it.’’ You whispered, but suddenly heard a loud laugh leaving the blonde’s mouth. ‘’Wait, this is your poor attempt to motivate me?’’ Alexia couldn’t help but be amused by your words, she knew you were being serious by the look of your face. You nodded and stared lovingly at her, happy you got to see her smile this morning. ‘’You have nothing to worry about.’’ You replied, placing a tender kiss on her lips, hoping to emphasize the message you were trying to convey.

Alexia nodded and thanked you quietly, a small sigh escaping her mouth as she rolled out of bed. She pulled the covers over your form and made her way to the bathroom. ‘’You know, you can still wear my jersey.’’ She winked before completely disappearing from your view, pointing to the part of the closet that was dedicated to her jerseys. That’s what you were planning on doing, but leading the team? No, that was La Reina’s job.