#i can tell youre in a lot of pain from that movie still so here take this gift

[bigassmoonchild]

Lost

Pairing: Logan Howlett x Reader

Word Count: 1.4k

Summary: It's not the first time you've plummeted into another timeline. It is the first time in years that you've met a Deadpool still doing the anti-hero (vigilante?) thing. And unfortunately for you, you're stuck with him.

Content Tags: DEADPOOL AND WOLVERINE SPOILERS! I'm being so serious, this entire series is going to be stock-full of spoilers for that movie. Some mentions of blood, lots of cursing (as expected). No use of Y/N

A/N: I promise I'm working on stuff, work just has had me super busy the last few weeks (months if I'm being more honest) and school is coming up soon for me :(. Anyways. I wanna lick Logans abs. This is hopefully gonna be a slow burn ;)

(p.s. lmk if you wanna be added to a tag list in the future)

(p.p.s. this is mostly story building with a tad bit of plot)

(p.p.p.s. i'm trying to write in a less past tense style, forgive if that changes throughout the story, im so fuckin delirious)

It’s jarring. Every single time it happens is so jarring. It’s almost like getting whiplashed with how hard you are pulled backwards and then your stomach drops; it feels as though you’re falling. The same sensation you get right before you fall asleep, like your body can’t tell if you’re still alive.  

You’ve never been thrown so forcefully out of it. Usually you land, stumbling on your feet. This time, though, you’re thrown onto your back. Your skull cracks against the pavement underneath you and it feels like all the air has been forced out of your body.  

“Fuuuuck,” it feels pushed out of your body, your chest heaving in short gasps. Rolling onto your side, all you can see in front of you is the street. Whatever Earth you’ve landed on, it doesn’t seem like it’s good.  

There’s blood splattered everywhere, cars and buses are on their sides or flipped over. Glass is scattered on the streets. Maybe you just arrived right after the battle of New York, maybe this world has been abandoned.  

You struggle to your feet, stumbling and catching yourself before standing fully upright. You can feel the warmth of some blood on your back before the skin reconnects, leaving behind the burn of cement rash.  

Behind you, there’s panting. It’s heavy and sounds almost wet. Turning, you look at two men who were behind you. 

“Oh, you’ve got to be fucking kidding me,”  

... 

You tried walking away. Removing yourself from the situation like the adult you were, but no. It wasn’t working. You never got more than a few feet away from the two before being teleported back within their range.  

The two men, Deadpool and the poor Wolverine stuck with him, just watched for some time. Deadpool was oddly quiet through most of it, although you can almost hear the monologue in his thoughts, his head following as you walked in different directions before snapping to where you appeared. Dogpool, the ugly thing, sat in the arms of its alternate person just panting heavily. It never stopped panting.  

You huff angrily, throwing your back against the wall right next to Wade. Crossing your arms, you look down at Mary Puppins sitting in his arms. She went cross eyed while looking up at you, staring blankly at the wall next to you and yourself.  

“Who shit in your biscuit this morning?” Wade asks you, head tilting slightly. You have to brace yourself and breathe deeply to make sure you don’t roll your eyes. You never realized how thankful you were that your home Earths Deadpool ended up in the void before you even knew what abilities you had.  

Glancing down at him with just your eyes, you find that he still hasn’t looked away. “Whoever the hell sent me here, that’s who,” you respond. There’s pain in your voice, you can hear up, but also the utter annoyance that most Deadpool's just bring. “Didn’t know the Wolverine on this world was still alive,” you nod your head towards Logan like you’re gesturing to him.  

It’s quiet. You’ve somehow silenced Wade Wilson, the merc with a mouth. You watch his chest expand in a deep inhale and it caves back in as he exhales deeply.  

“He isn’t,” and your brows furrow. Other than the TVA, you don’t know any other casual dimension jumper. Even they were a stretch, you know, they didn’t deserve to be able to do that.  Somehow, they were able to master it. You think he can see the confusion on your face as your eyes flit back and forth between them. Logan’s still eating whatever it is he had in his hand. “The TVA,” he takes a breath, and you have to interrupt. 

“Why did they bring him here?” You shake your head, brows furrowing further.  

Wade shifts his head side to side. “They didn’t bring him here, sunshine,” his voice perks up. “I did,” and he has the widest smile on his face that doesn’t quite reach his eyes.  

“I don’t,” you pause and rub your face, looking down at the ground. “I don’t even wanna know why or how,”  

“’Cause I'm Marvel Jesus,” is his quick quip back. He stands suddenly, his back popping and cracking as he stretches himself. “Alrighty, Peanut, let’s get going home,” he says to Logan (maybe it was to Mary Puppins, you’ve got no idea), and there’s a little pep in his step. “C’mon puppy!” Wade calls and you get yanked again and appear just a few feet ahead of him.  

With a roll of his eyes, Logan stands and tosses his food off to the side. “I’m going to go figure things out on my own,” he says. Turning away, you watch as Logan walks off from the two of you and you hope to whatever being is out there that you get pulled along with him, but he isn’t able to make it more than a few steps before Wade starts talking again. 

“Oh no you don’t! I’ve waited far too long for this meetup!” Wade calls out, and you see Logan stop in his tracks. His shoulders slump, almost like he’s struggling with a decision he’s about to make. “Blind Al isn’t all she’s cocained up to be, we need a third in our little house of horrors,” he snickers a little. 

You’re really hoping it doesn’t last forever, but when you finally make the trek to Wades apartment that feeling almost vanishes (almost). It’s homey, although the apartment itself is small and cramped with two people already there. You’ve met a few Als before, but only a small number of them weren’t blind. 

It was only in passing though. You could recognize that woman anywhere. Her eyes were always a striking feature, and the few who weren’t blind always carried this sort of knowledge within them as they followed you when you walked by them.  

This Al seemed sweet, although listening to Wade tell you about her was a little odd. You couldn’t fully tell if he was joking about her being able to see cocaine, but there’s been worse you’ve interacted with.  

Speaking of worse, Logan would not let you out of his sight at all thus far. You could feel his eyes boring down on your back the entire walk to the apartment, and even when you got inside and completely ignored everything Wade was saying (a lot of it was just telling you and Logan about the apartment and what to not touch, oddly enough) he would not let you leave his sight.  

Even just checking out what type of T.V this world had to offer left you with his stare. You begin to browse their small selection of DVD’s when you finally speak up. 

“Might wanna take a picture,” it was quiet, but you knew he could hear you. “It’ll last you longer,” but there was no response. Usually, it was the Bucky Barnes of the Earth that had the staring problem, it had never been the Wolverines.  

They always made their problems with you obvious. They’d never pulled this type of behavior, and it was strange. For the first time in years, you had someone act strange and you couldn’t figure out how to go about confronting it.  

“Who’re you?” Logan finally spoke up, quieting Wade in the middle of his rant.  

You swallow thickly. “I’m not the person you think I am,” and you cringe internally. It always sounded dumb when you said it, but you never knew what else to say. Who knows if there’s another you in this world, or maybe even Logans. “Whoever I am, or was, to you? That’s not who I am,” but you’d never met another one of you.  

There’s the thud of glass on wood, it's thick and there’s no way that it isn’t a beer bottle.  “I’ve never met you in my life. Have you?” Assuming he was talking to Wade, you turn as best as you can while still crouched in front of the TV to look at him.  

He’s shrugging, opening his mouth for a response before Logan beats him to it. “What the hell is it that you can do, anyways? Are you a mutant? Or just another fucked up creation by a government?” You bark a laugh.  

“I’m just one of God’s fucked up mistakes, that’s what,” and you look down with a sigh, shaking your head. “I really don’t know. My world didn’t have mutants, not like others do. It was always some botched work done by doctors in basements,” Wade looks appalled.  

His eyes find some spot on the wall, and he smiles at it. “It’s like looking into a mirror. Although a lot less ballsackey and not as interesting,” you have to shake your head.  

Logan clears his throat. “What do you mean, your world didn’t have mutants,” you smile at him.  

“My timeline doesn’t exist anymore,”  

[starshideurfics]

Can’t go home alone

steddie, aob, hurt/comfort, established secret relationship

I just can’t leave this concept alone 🥰

Pain pulses over and behind and around Steve’s eye along with the beat of his heart. It isn’t as bad as it was even an hour ago, and definitely not as bad as when he and Robin puked their guts out in the movie theater restroom.

But his head hurts. His chest hurts. And he just wants to curl up in his nest and hope his parents don’t come home in time to see him like this. 

But the paramedic checking him says he’s definitely got a concussion. “Have you got someone who can keep an eye on you for the next 48 hours?”

“I… Yeah, I do.” Steve leans his head on Robin’s shoulder, needing the support as he’s hit with a sudden dizzy spell. He really doesn’t want to hurl again.

“Steve,” Robin whispers, “There’s no way my mom is letting me stay at your house for two days. Or letting you stay at mine. She would freak if I had an omega in my room.”

“I know,” Steve mumbles back. “‘Preciate the offer, Robbie, but I’ve got someone.”

“Steve. You can’t just shrug this off!”

“I’m not! I do have someone.” He pouts, breathes deep, her scent sour still from the truth serum leaving her system. His face is hidden in her short hair as he mumbles, “I’ll stay with Eddie.” Steve’s so tired. 

He just wants to rest his eyes a minute, but Robin shakes his shoulder.

“Eddie? Steve what are you talking about?”

“I’ll stay at Eddie’s. He’ll take care of me.”

Robin is struggling to focus, her brain not as scrambled as Steve’s, but after a day and a half without enough to eat or drink coupled with everything else, she’s just as tired and confused. “Eddie who?”

Tires screech to a stop at the edge of the Starcourt parking lot, the closest cars can come now with the barriers up. Steve whips his head around to look towards the noise and his head spins. But then he sees a familiar, shitty van, the driver’s door opening and closing loud enough for Steve to hear the slam over the surrounding hubbub.

Pushing himself to his feet, Steve starts walking towards the streak of denim and dark curls racing towards him. He’s grinning like an idiot as Eddie stops just short of barreling into him, the rangy alpha delicately cupping his face. “Steve, baby, what the hell happened?” His fingers brush gently along Steve’s brow, over the cut on his lower lip. “I saw on the news—about the fire—called your place a dozen times and no one picked up. Been half-crazy worrin’ over you, and it looks like I was right to.”

“M’sorry,” Steve mumbles, pressing his cheek into Eddie’s touch.

“No, baby, not your fault. I’m just glad it isn’t worse.” He pulls Steve close, guides his face to the scent gland at his neck, and kisses his hair. “I’ve got you.”

Steve begins to purr, feeling safe for the first time in two days. “Can we go home?”

“Yeah, let’s get the hell out of here.”

“Wait! I gotta tell Robin!”

“What? Is Buckley here, too?”

Steve doesn’t answer, just pulls out of Eddie’s grip and stumbles back to the ambulance where Robin is still waiting, wrapped in an emergency blanket, her blue eyes glued to him as he approaches. “You’re dating Eddie Munson?” The, ‘and you didn’t say anything about that when we were spilling our guts literally and metaphorically on the bathroom floor’ is implied.

“Yeah. Eddie’s the best. He’s really sweet and he’s got a big—”

“Please don’t make me barf on you by finishing that sentence. I do not need to know what you and your alpha get up to behind closed doors.” Robin reaches for his hand. “Just… Call me in the morning, okay?”

“Okay.” Steve squeezes her fingers before loping back to Eddie and snuggling into his boyfriend’s chest.

Eddie rubs at Steve’s back. “Ready to go?”

“Yeah. I’m hungry.”

“Want me to make you a grilled cheese when we get back to my place?”

“Uh-huh.” Steve nods enthusiastically, only to bring on a wave of nausea, forcing him to shut his eyes and put all his weight on Eddie.

“Maybe I should just get you into bed.”

Steve moans wordlessly, lets himself be manhandled into the van, barely noticing anything beyond the bumps in the road that make his head ache more.

Once they reach Forest Hills, Eddie plops Steve on the couch, brings him water and a bag of frozen peas for his eye, and turns his attention to frying two sandwiches.

After Steve is fed, Eddie helps him into the shower, washing his hair in the tiny bathroom, and getting rid of the dried blood and days’ worth of sweat. 

They dry off together, and Eddie bundles Steve into his bed, their naked bodies pressed close beneath the covers. “I’ve got you, baby,” Eddie whispers, dropping a kiss to Steve’s unbruised temple. “You rest. And if you need anything, let me know, I’ll get it for you.”

“I know,” Steve hums, snuggling impossibly closer. “Love you.”

“Love you too, baby. Now sleep.”

[moonstruckme]

Hi Mae!! Could I request Spencer x bau!reader where Spencer is losing his mind when reader is in a dangerous situation and the team doesn’t understand why he’s panicking so much but then he accidentally reveals to the team that he’s been dating reader for awhile

Hi honey! Thanks for requesting :)

Spencer Reid x bau!reader ♡ 880 words

The team hasn’t heard from you in nearly an hour. Spencer knows, reasonably, that an hour isn’t that long. He can do lots of things for more than an hour. Read, walk, work through calculus problems. He’s sat through terrible, awful movies that were more than double that amount of time. The flight here had been nearly three hours, and it had felt like nothing to him.

But when you’re supposed to be undercover and have stopped checking in, the hour since your last message feels broken up into minutes, seconds, milliseconds. Not one of them goes by unnoticed. Because Spencer can’t help but imagine the possibility of you spending that time scared or in pain. 

He’s pacing in front of the board, trying to find the missing piece that will enable the team to go in and get you out of there, when JJ says his name sharply. 

He looks over to find the team staring at him. “Yeah?”

She shakes her head, bewildered. “I’ve called you, like, four times. Y/N’s on her way out.”

Spencer can’t tell if he’s stopped breathing or only just started. “What?” his voice comes out hoarse. 

Hotch nods in confirmation. “She just got a message to Garcia. She’s compromised, but she managed to get out. She’ll be here any minute.” 

Spencer’s out of the tent before he even really processes moving, eyes scanning the parking lot. It’s two precious seconds before he catches sight of you, a shout ripping from his throat as he runs over. 

You make a tiny sound of surprise when he collides with you, grabbing clumsily at your form. He can’t tell if it’s him shaking or you, but whatever you say is muffled against his shirt collar as he presses your face into his shoulder. 

A moment later, he remembers why he’d been so desperate to see you in the first place and pulls back, hands moving over your shoulders, down your arms. 

“Are you okay?” The words feel like they shudder out of him. “Did they hurt you?”

“I’m okay,” you say, taking his wrists in your hands and ducking to look him in the eyes when he persists in his search anyway. “Hey, Spence. I’m okay.” 

“Why didn’t you check in?” He knows for certain it’s him shaking now. It feels like all he is is a jumble of frayed nerves. “Wh—why would you wait so long?”

You shake your head at him, and his brain is moving too erratically to decipher whether that slant to your brows means confusion or concern. “I had to lay low, but it couldn’t have been more than an hour—”

“An hour and four minutes.” 

“I’m sorry,” you say, taking him by the shoulders and squeezing lightly. “Spence, honey, it’s alright, okay? I’m sorry I didn't check in earlier, but I’m alright.” 

Spencer gathers you against him again. His body doesn’t know that you’re alright, but he’s trying to prove it. You’re here, he tells himself, in one piece and without visible bleeding. He can feel you, your hands against his back, your chin jutting into his shoulder. 

It’s a longer hug, this time, less desperate, but he still doesn’t let you go all the way even when he does, cradling your face in both hands and pressing a firm kiss to the top of your head. 

“You scared me,” he says. Or wheezes, more like. 

“I’m sorry,” you say again, and Spencer shakes his head, because that’s not what he wants. He doesn’t want you to be sorry, he wants it to have not happened at all. For you to work the same job without ever needing to take the same risks, so that he can go to work every day and know that he doesn’t need to worry about you. You give him a wry smile, and he wonders if you can tell what he’s thinking. One thing he does know is that you’d never agree to it. 

Spencer can’t walk you back into the tent with his arm around you, but he does the next best thing, placing a hand at your elbow as he turns around. And right there, illuminated from behind by fluorescent lights like some harbinger of bad tidings, is Morgan. 

“Glad to see you’re okay, Y/N,” he says, looking already like he’s left surprise behind and is well on his way to amusement. “Wouldn’t have come out here if I’d known Boy Wonder was gonna have the welcome committee so well under control.” 

“Don’t,” you chide lightly, and Spencer’s hand stays on your elbow, but it’s really more you walking him towards the tent than the other way around. “He’s had a rough couple of hours.” 

“You’ve had the rough couple hours,” Spencer corrects you. 

“We all have,” Morgan mediates, flicking an eyebrow up at Spencer. “Though I have to admit, some of us seemed to be taking it even rougher than the rest. Wonder why that could be.” 

You shoot him a look as you go into the tent, and Morgan holds his hands up in mock surrender. 

“Hey, your secret’s safe with me.” 

Spencer’s still too rattled to scoff, but he doesn’t believe that for a second. The entire team will know before you get back to the jet.

[devilstruly]

Hey so how do you think Jason Todd and Dick grayson would deal with their love who’s a ray of sunshine (not hyper. More like has an innocence about them where they’re just experiencing life for the first time. They just get happy over the little things in life: Like their dress has pockets or they see a stray cat or dog down an alley and they’ve left their boyfriend side to say hi to it and give it some food they somehow always have hiding in their clothes. Even tight fitted dressed).. and living a pretty good life s/o finding out the men’s secret identity and the men are like “are you sure you’re ok with this?” Or Jason’s like “I got a lot of baggage”. And s/o’s very calm and not their usual ray of sunshine self “ This is a lot better than other stuff I’ve been through in the past. I’m good with it”. Or to Jason “what? You think you’re the only one with baggage?” The men didn’t know this, but s/o grew up in the roughest part of gotham in a poor family? So they’ve seen a lot of bad things and bad things have happened to them? They’re ok with their bf doing vigilante work cuz if vigilantes were around more often back then, bad stuff that happened to s/o probably wouldn’t of happened. Also let him know that, “if you get injured, you can always come to me to help you”?

hi omg !! thanks sm for the ask <3 now i've never written the sunshine trope myself but i'll try my best here

i think when it comes to dick grayson he would go about revealing his identity very carefully and very thoughtfully, lest he scares you off. mans has probably been stressing about it for weeks. but when he finally drops the bomb and you're just there, all nonchalant, he's utterly confused. nightwing.exe has stopped working.

'w-what do you mean okay? that's it?!'

'i've seen worse. you're good.'

'WHAT DO YOU MEAN BY THAT?'

cue a lot of questions. you're in for a long night.

now with jason todd it happens as an accident. he was planning to tell you who he was. obviously. at some point of course. not now, while he's sneaking back into his apartment after patrol to find you sitting on his couch watching a movie. his first issue is why you aren't fazed by fucking Red Hood sneaking into your boyfriend's apartment. he's kinda concerned if he's being honest.

'uh- okay, might as well get this over with.' he sighs, taking his helmet off and bracing himself for you to either yell or just get up and leave.

but you don't, instead your eyes rake over his form, noticing the deep cut on his side.

'that needs stitches.'

redhood.exe has stopped working. 'wh- huh?!?'

'sit down, i'll be right back.' you get up from the couch and gesture for him to take your place while you go grab the first-aid kit you know he keeps in the bathroom.

while you're stitching him up and he's still trying to grasp what the actual fuck is going on he uses the opportunity to distract himself from the pain by talking. you talk a little about your background but it's mainly just him trying to make sure you know how fucked up he is and that he's bad for you and a killer, yada yada yada.

'you've told me all of that before, jay. i'm not going anywhere.'

his heart swells, but he refuses to cry in this state so he deflects like usual.

'how the fuck do you know how to stitch a wound?'

[totaly-obsessed]

➳ Azzi Fudd x reader

➳ A planned soft-launch goes wrong

➳ based on this request - my first time writing for Basketball, pls be kind to me

➳ Word count: 1.305

“Do you know what you’re gonna get?” 

Most of the girls had gone out to eat for the evening, something a little more on the fancy side, different from the usual takeout they would get, and gracious as they were, they decided to drag you, their Social Media manager, with them.

While it had been Azzi, your girlfriend of nearly seven months who ultimately managed to get you to say yes, she had a begging KK and Paige in her ears. Both girls tried to get you to come, with promises of shooting videos for the YouTube Channel, giving fans the duo they wanted. But all it took was Azzi to bat her lashes at you, a gentle kiss to the corner of your mouth, and a whispered “Please, for me?” and you agreed to come.

“I can’t decide between these two.” 

“I’ll get this one and you get that one then. They both sound great and we can share!” With Azzi you never had to beg for her to listen to you, she somehow always knew what you said and wanted, no matter how noisy the room was.

“Girl you are whipped..” KK observed from her seat next to you but winced when she received a swift kick to the shin from your girlfriend who sat on the opposite side of you. “I was just sayin! Nothing bad about it!”

The evening had actually been quite nice - you had spent the most time chatting to Ashlynn and Caroline who sat on your other side, while Azzi watched everyone interact chiming in here and there and mostly when either Paige, KK, or Nika were bickering and hoped that she would back them up.

Back at the dorms you decided to just hang out for a bit longer, it had been way too nice to just get up and leave everyone alone, especially after getting back from a short summer break. People were still moving in and the roommates weren’t 100% sure yet, aside from you and Azzi. Maybe you’d adopt one of the freshmen.

The people (Paige and Alyiah) had decided that the chosen dorm would in fact be yours and Azzi's. Most of your girlfriend's belongings were already in there, while yours were still in the car.

“You snooze, you lose!”

The couch was already filled when you came in the door. Turns out seven young adults with an average height of six feet take up a lot of space in a small student dorm, leaving literally no space for you. KK, Inês, and Jana had already taken over the floor in front of the couch, pulling every throw pillow you had placed on it, down to sit on them. 

But you didn’t worry about getting a seat. After all, your girlfriend already had one, and what was hers, was yours. So you had a place, no matter how smug the girls looked at you, teasing smiles on their lips.

“Can you make Popcorn?” Nika, the only one with some form of respect, swatted Paige’s hand away as she pointed at you like a toddler. “How do you want to know that they even have popcorn? Azzi moved in like yesterday.”

“They always have popcorn. So, you gonna make some?”

Just as your girlfriend wanted to chime in, telling Paige to do it herself, you caved in and made your way to the small kitchen. You wanted her to have some time alone with her teammates, after all this was their season. They were going to make it, you were sure of it.

With a tray of snacks, a big popcorn bowl, and glasses you made your way back to the others. Excited chatter filled the room and everyone was busy in some way or another as you placed the tray down on the small coffee table, before just handing Paige the big Popcorn bowl.

“See that wasn’t so hard - OW!” Nika’s elbow found a home in the blonde's ribs. “She meant thank you for being so kind to us. Didn’t you?” The smile on Paige's lips was forced in pain as she gave a small ‘mhmm’ to satisfy her Croatian friend.

You were leaning over the couch, right next to Azzi’s face, trying to make out what movie they had put on, but in the end, you couldn’t figure it out. “Baby, can I borrow some of your clothes? Wanna get out of this dress” Your girlfriend turned around as well as she could while being restricted by her teammates on either side. “Of course, you don’t have to ask!”

In thanks you lean over, kissing her with a big smile on your face, “Thank you darling, you’re the best!” before you go to turn around and run to the bedroom where a still-packed suitcase waits for you. 

But then you heard KK.

“Fuck. You know that we’re live. Right?”

A chill goes down your spine. Live? Like TikTok Live? And when you turn back to the group of girls, you see the phone propped up against a water bottle, the screen showing you in the background while your friends look at you.

With tears prodding at your eyes, you quickly find your way to the bedroom, ready for this day to be over and done with.

“Okay, y’all just ignore that. Never happened.”

Azzi found you still in your dress, face first on the bed, trying to hide from the world as sobs wrecked your body. “I ruined it.” Your girlfriend couldn’t help but chuckle, out of you two, you were definitely the dramatic one.

“You didn’t ruin anything. So what if people know that I have a kind, wonderful, and hot girlfriend?” 

She could hear your whining through the mattress as you tried to hide, but eventually lost to her pulling you up and into her arms. “But we wanted to do a cute soft launch, and now we can’t.” Azzi couldn’t help but place a soft kiss on your lips once she saw your pouting. “Who needs a soft launch when I can brag about you now?”

“You’re not mad?”

“I could never be mad at you. It's okay, baby.”

You could still hear the girls in the living room having a good time. They had already forgotten what happened, making use of the opened-up space on the couch as you got changed with Azzi handing you things, throwing together a more comfortable outfit before making your way back to the others.

“Shift it Inês.” Azzi didn’t give her teammate much time before she simply sat down, not caring who was there or who she sat on. And it worked, they made way before she gestured for you to come closer and pull you onto her lap.

“Look who’s back, y’all!” KK’s voice was much louder than you had expected, but her cheerfulness immediately influenced you, looking much happier now.

“Azzi, is that your girlfriend?” The curly-haired girl hand-picked the comment from the live, effectively asking herself the question before placing a sloppy kiss on your cheek as she peeked out from behind you. “Yes. Yes, she is. Everyone, meet the most gorgeous girl in the world, my girlfriend!”

“Yuck. Go back to hiding, y’all are disgusting. Anyways… Imma end this here. Bye, y’all!”

And just like that KK pressed the ‘end live’ button, sinking the room in a temporary silence before the girls started hollering and clapping, slapping Azzi on the back and playfully pinching your sides in congratulations on finally making the relationship public. Even if it wasn’t like you planned.

The entirety of the movie was filled with either Paige or KK leaning over and shoving a phone in both of your faces “Look there are already edits. Damn they’re quick!”, or “You look so cute in this one, too bad they don’t have to experience y’all.

liked by nika.muhl and 44.330 others

azzi35: kinda messed up the soft launch, so here is the hard launch tagged: @ y/ninsta

ines_pbettencourt: My Parents!

➥ paigebueckers: Wait a second...

kamoreaarnold: Don't be fooled y'all! They not this cute in person.

➥ y/ninsta: Awhhh, you called us cute!!

[sweetloleepop]

Synopsis: Today is your birthday. And although you have already planned to spend it just cuddling and watching movies with your boyfriend, everything changed after your friends decided to throw you this not-so-big party, which your boyfriend didn’t appreciate much.

Pairing/s: Katsuki Bakugo/Reader

Tags: smut, car seggs, swearing, slight degradation, spanking, unprotected smut

a/n: This is my first time writing for Bakugo and I did so as a gift for my lovely friend. I hope I didn’t change him much lol. Happiest birthday to youuu!!! @justpassingbybiatch

PS: All characters are of legal age in this fic

Wordcount: 1.8k

Everyone cheered as you blow the candle. They all greeted you a happy birthday and handed you their gifts. The event that your best friends, Izuku and Momo, arranged, made you feel very happy. But do you know what else it made you? Busy. From the moment that you and Katsuki have stepped a foot on this very place, he hasn’t been able to talk to you. Let alone get near you. There’s just so many people here; too many people for you to give him an ounce of your attention and its making Katsuki dissatisfied. He didn’t want to make a fuss about it though. After all, this is your day, it’s not about him, and he wants you to enjoy your day to the fullest. But still, he can’t shrug the feeling of dissatisfaction off of him.

Feeling a bit grumpy, Katsuki decided to sit on one of the many tables in the venue, alone. He stayed there for a while, watching you talk happily with your friends. ‘Tsk. That would’ve been me if they didn’t ruin our plans.’ He thought to himself.

Meanwhile, standing near the buffet, you idly listen to Izuku talk about new quirks that he found other heroes can do. He’s always been very excited about sharing new things that he discovers with you, and this conversation is no different. Don’t get me wrong, you love listening and conversing with your friends, but you haven’t seen Katsuki in a while and it’s making you worried.

After some time of subtly taking your eyes away from Izuku in an attempt to search for Katsuki, you finally saw him stood up from one of the tables. You watched as he made his way to the exit and left. ‘Oh no…’

You failed to notice that Izuku is still speaking right in front of you until he calls your name. “Are you okay?” Izuku asked as he looked back, trying to distinguish what you were looking at. “Oh, yeah. I’m fine, I just- would you excuse me for a minute?” You replied as you excused yourself and followed Katsuki to the exit.

It was chilly outside. The fact that you are wearing a sleeveless dress didn’t help. You hugged yourself while you walked through the parking lot. Katsuki is nowhere to be found. ‘Where is he?’

“Looking for me?” Upon hearing the voice, you turned your head so fast that you gave yourself a whiplash. “Ouch,” you uttered as you held your neck.

“God, will you be more careful?” Katsuki said as he made his way to you. He held your neck and looked at it with a very worried expression. “Still hurts?” He asked.

You looked at his face. ‘God, he’s so handsome.’

He called your name. “Stop staring at me and tell me, does it still hurt?”

“Uh… yeah. It still hurts, ‘Tsuki. I think only a kiss would help make the pain go away.” You cutely said to him while pouting.

He tsked at you and pecked your neck. “Fine now?”

“Yep, better.” You replied.

A strong gust of wind blew through the wide space of the parking lot, making you shiver. Katsuki didn’t fail to notice that and he immediately took off his suit and draped it on your shoulder. “It’s cold in here. You wanna go back inside?” You asked as you closed the suit around you. “Not really. But I do know a warm place.”

“Where?”

The backseat of his car sure is warm. Especially now that you’re sitting on Katsuki’s lap while he peppered your neck with kisses. His mouth was hot as he assaulted your neck with open-mouthed kisses.

You grabbed his hair and kissed his lips. Oh, his lips, soft as ever, yet very rough when he kisses you back. You felt Katsuki’s hand roam about your torso. He grabbed and squeezed your left breast while his other hand slowly opened the zipper of your dress.

After fully opening your zipper, Katsuki helped you take the garment off. He commanded you to lay down on the seat and you quickly obliged. You watched as he unbuttoned his dress shirt and threw them somewhere in the passenger seat.

Katsuki, then, kissed you again. More demanding this time. You felt as one of his hands unclasped your bra and roughly played with your breasts. Katsuki pinched one of your nipple, causing you to release a surprised gasp.

“You like that?” Katsuki asked, his voice raspy.

“Y-yes,”

Katsuki’s kisses went down to your neck, leaving bruises on their wake. His kisses, then, went down lower, to your chests. Katsuki won’t admit it but this, your chest is his most favorite part of you. He told you once that it was your heart but on his defense, your heart is inside your chest, and he loved them both.

He sucked on your chest like a starved child. His mouth was vigorous as it nipped, licked, and sucked on your them. Not that you’re complaining, you love what he’s doing. In fact, you enjoy it so much, your eyes are rolling and your hands are gripping his spiky strands of sandy blond hair.

As one of his hands are fondling your chest in tandem with his mouth, you felt the other one snake its way to your thighs. It was almost overwhelming, except you’re too greedy to care. His hand massaged your thighs, teasing its way to your clothed cunt.

You breathed heavily in anticipation to his touch. But every time his fingers brushes against your panties, he retreats them and caresses your thighs again. “Katsuki, please,” you pleaded.

“Please what?”

“Please touch me.”

“Why should I?” He asked, his voice an octave lower.

You felt your face get warmer as you muttered, “So I can cum.”

“What was that?” ‘Oh, this man.’

“Please touch me, Katsuki. I want to cum so bad!” You said, your voice a little too desperate.

“You should’ve said that earlier.” Katsuki replied before you felt his hand push your underwear to the side.

His slender fingers teased you entrance, making you whimper. “Fuck, you’re so wet.” After coating one of his fingers with your wetness, he slowly pushed it in. “Oh, fuck, Katsuki.”

He kissed your lips once again as he prodded his finger in and out of you. You moaned against his lips, which he replied with a groan. You felt him insert another finger as his thumb made its way to your clit. They all worked together, picking a fast pace. Katsuki made sure to swallow all of your moans and whimpers through the kiss. He wanted to make you scream so bad but this is just not the right place to do that.

His fingers went faster and you felt that familiar coil in your stomach. “Katsuki- fuck- I’m cumming.”

“Cum on my fingers, baby.” And that was more than enough for you to do so. You released a loud moan as your body trembled upon your climax. Katsuki guided you through your orgasm, slowly massaging your clit as you go down from your high.

He watched as you catch your breath. Your eyes, heavily lidded and your forehead, a little sweaty. But the night is young and you’re yet to finish this round.

Katsuki kissed you softly as you recover. And soon as you have, he asked you to turn around. “Ass up,” he commanded and you obliged. You felt his hand made contact with your your ass, making you yelp. It hurt, but it hurt so good. “You like when I do that, don’t you? You dirty bitch.” And another smack on your ass, which made you moan.

You heard the familiar clanking of his belt. It never failed to send waves and waves of anticipation to you, especially down to your already wet cunt. You subconsciously moved your ass up higher, making Katsuki swear. “Fuck, you’re really dirty.”

He pulled his pants down and stroked himself a few times. “Do you know how long I waited for you to finish that damn long conversation with Deku? I thought you’ll talk the whole night. Tsk.”

“I’m sorry.” You mindlessly said.

“Oh don’t worry. We’ll see just how sorry you are.”

And with that, you felt Katsuki’s cock make its way to the deepest parts of you in one go. “Fuck!” You moaned loudly. “Hey now, you don’t want everyone to hear how much you love my cock, now, would you?” He asked as he rammed his cock into you.

After receiving no replied, he once again spanked your ass, “Answer me when I talk to you.”

“N-no. No, I don’t want them t-to hear- how much I love your cock-” you finally replied, your words being slurred with your moans.

Katsuki kept on fucking you hard. You kind of wondered if the sound of his balls hitting your ass is heard from the outside but you’re too drowned in pleasure to fully contemplate about it. His thrusts were hard, deep, and fast. You could’ve sworn that the car is visibly shaking from the outside.

You felt one of Katsuki’s hand snake its way in between your legs. Katsuki’s finger draw tight circles on your clit, making you bury your face further into the seat. You tried to muffle your moans but your attempts were proven futile as you released yet another loud and long moan. Katsuki’s fingers were fast as they guide you through your second, and so far, hardest orgasm of the night.

“Oh, fuck, you’re clenching my cock tighter.” Katsuki groaned as he fucks harder into you, trying to reach his own high. You felt his thrusts get sloppier by the second.

“Fuck, I’m fucking cumming.”

“Cum inside me, Katsuki, please.” You pleaded as you get overstimulated with his gestures.

A string of swears left Katsuki’s lips as he ride you into his own release. You felt the warm shot of liquid paint your walls as he did so.

The two of you stayed still on his car for a while, catching your breaths and cleaning yourselves up with wet wipes. It’s a good thing that you left a pack of them on his car, thinking that it might come in handy some time. And it did!

You inhaled the fresh air as soon as you got out. Both you and Katsuki, then, made your way inside the venue of your party. You heard Izuku’s worried voice call you, “Where have you been? Momo and I have been looking for you!”

“Oh, I- I just went out to get some fresh air.” You replied.

“It’s very cold outside though. And why are you and Kacchan kinda… sweaty?” Izuku asked, not sure if he’s actually seeing sweat on you and Katsuki given that it is very cold outside.

“We just warmed ourselves up.” Katsuki replied as he snaked his arm around your hip.

‘This is going to be a looong night’

[1d1195]

Most III

Read Most here | ~ 6.1k words

From me: I might be changing this from 5 parts to 6 parts 🎉 I wanted to get further in this section, but felt like a good place to stop as well.

Warnings: I think this part is more fluffy than the last couple, but of course there's some angsty stuff hiding in here too.

Summary: There are about 200 question Harry wants answered. But he can barely ask one because she's home. She's got a lot of worries. But maybe most pressingly, is finding out if Harry's moved on.

*Six Weeks Earlier*

Addie and Carter were arguing over the inconsistencies of the movie they were watching with what was recorded in history. Addie was obviously winning. But she thought Carter just liked to see her riled up, like to have her argue just a little because she got so excited when she did. She was so passionate, and it made Carter’s face glaze over as she showed off her expertise.

As they quietly bickered on the sofa, she was at their little kitchen table.

She was looking at apartments for rent near her mom because Addie was probably holding out on asking Carter to move in solely because of her. There weren’t a ton of options—no real surprise on her end. She didn’t want to live in the same town as her school as she thought of post-graduation and how it would be flooded with students, and she thought that parties outside her apartment wouldn’t be conducive to writing the next best-selling romance novel. (If she could muster the strength to go through such a feat.)

Her quest brought her to another search engine, and it seemed as if it was the holy grail. Reasonable rent, new building, new appliances, semi-walkable—it seemed too good to be true.

It was. Truly.

There was one issue. But only one. Her browser’s location services were majorly off course—the last time she visited the website must have stored her old info. Back when she thought she was going to have to find a place of her own because her mom was going to move away, and she was going to need a way to stay close to Harry.

The location was the life and town she left behind were part of the new building’s address. Her email pinged with a message regarding her schedule for the semester. All online classes so she could focus on working and writing as much as possible.

For a second, she forgot. Forgot all about her heartache and the pain she probably caused. He was probably over it by then. She hadn’t forgotten, but she figured three years later, he must have. But there was this pull on her chest to call him. To tell him about the place. Hi baby! I found a place for us to live. Do you like it?

With a shake of her head, she pulled herself out of it and examined the floorplan.

Addie and Carter were still debating. “—The American Revolution is constantly blown out of proportion,” she told him knowingly.

It pained her to interrupt, but it was now or never. “Do you guys think I should still jump?” She asked quietly. They both turned to her. Tilted their heads in curiosity. Almost simultaneously. Carter turned away first, pausing their movie and Addie was already crossing the room to look over her shoulder.

“Oh,” she blinked. “Oh,” she looked at the address for the apartment building. “You... you want to go back?”

Carter followed over and smiled, sat next to her, squeezed her arm. “That’s awesome,” he smiled. “Of course we—”

“What about your classes?” Addie frowned. “We’re supposed to have a year.”

“Well, I can’t keep living here when you’re days away from asking Carter to move in,” she rolled her eyes. Carter chuckled.

“I’d pick you over him,” Addie grumbled.

“Hey!”

“Oh please,” she laughed shaking her head. “I would never make you make that choice... don’t you want to have weird shower sex without me around?”

Carter smirked, his cheeks turning red slightly as he looked at Addie knowingly. “Told you that you were too loud,” he winked, kissed her cheek, and headed to the kitchen to start something for dinner.

Addie glared at him for implying it was her fault. Then she stage-whispered. “He does this thing where he turns me so that the angle—”

“Addison.”

The girls giggled. Then she turned to her laptop again. “My schedule just came through. My classes are online... there’s no apartments by my mom or aunt...” she swallowed feeling the anxiety creep up from her stomach. It moved to her chest, then her throat making her voice quiet. “I just think... if I go now... and I see that he’s moved on then I can... I can too. A reset.”

Addie stared at someone who was sure to be one of the most beautifully talented, insanely intelligent, and incrediblysuccessful authors of the 21st century. She was so honored to have her in her life and be her best friend.

Even if she was an idiot. “You really think he would have moved on?” She wondered.

She shrugged, hovered her mouse over the link to apply for the apartment. “Wouldn’t you?”

There was a pause as Addie watched her. “I’m going to run to get some ingredients,” Carter said tugging Addie toward him for a swift kiss. He grabbed his keys off the counter, then kissed the top of her hair as well. It made her blush because quite frankly, other than flirting at the restaurant, she hadn’t had physical male affection in years and even Carter’s assuring hand squeezes made her a bit flushed at times.

There was nothing at the store; he didn’t need ingredients. She and Addie had gone shopping the day before for all the food they could ever want (at least for the week). But Carter was perfect, and he knew when they needed their girl time.

Addie took the notebook that resided at the end of their faux-dinner table. She kept it there for inspiration. She never knew when the mood would strike to write something and since her best writing was often done at the table—be it essays, some of her favorite ideas, or just a grocery list where her handwriting looked nice—she liked to have something to work from when she was stuck for a thought. Addie lifted the cover slowly. Her heart took off, terrified of someone else seeing her most personal thoughts. But instead, she stayed silent, and Addie pointed to the inside cover.

A heart with her name and Harry’s written in the center took up majority of the space.

“When’s this notebook from?”

A brief pause as she tried to date it from visual and handwriting. There were so many notebooks she owned it took a moment to figure out which was which. “I was... ten,” she swallowed.

Addie nodded and went to the coffee table. She removed a cup of tea off the cover, a few hundred rings lined the blue cover as if it were truly a coaster and not one of the notebooks that would be in a museum about her famed author-life hundreds of years from now. “When’s this one from?” She asked and held out the nearly identical inside cover—another heart bearing two names.

She didn’t need much time to identify this one—it truly was her favorite. The evidence and words that reflected the first time Harry told her he loved her were written within the pages. “Sixteen.”

Then she went to the bookshelf tucked in the corner of their main room. This notebook was wedged between copies of novels she refused to part with, even though they hadn’t been read in years and they weren’t necessarily her favorites, but they were a part of her love of writing and books throughout school and home: Of Mice and Men; Roll of Thunder, Hear My Cry; Perks of Being a Wallflower; The Kite Runner. Books she didn’t think of as romances but books that made her feel. The purpose of the notebook that resided among those titles was to remember those feelings even if they were painful. “This one?” She wondered.

“Eight,” she whispered. She started that one when she read her first Babysitter’s Club novel. “But I wrote in it last week too,” after she finished Where the Crawdads Sing.

There on the inside cover was the same heart and same names as every other notebook.

“What about the one on your nightstand, for your dreams?” Addie asked.

She blinked, looked at her lap. Twenty-one... I bought it last week when I filled up the one before it that I used for dreams. I liked the green and gold pattern. It reminded me of his eyes. But Addie already knew all that. There was a picture of Harry on her fridge. The two of them on his final day of school, her arm around his waist and his draped around her shoulders. They were just kids there. Unknowing that a year later she would break both their hearts. Sometimes she looked at that picture and wondered what it would be like if she didn’t leave. Maybe she would still be in the very same spot. Because Harry would have grown tired of her and their hum-drum life.

“I know I didn’t move on, though, Addie.”

“He didn’t either,” Addie put her notebook back safely between The Princess Bride and My Antonia.

“Addie... you don’t know him.”

“You don’t write fifteen notebooks worth of love poems about a man that doesn’t love you even half as much. Even if he loved you an eighth the amount that you loved him, you would still have the greatest love story ever,” Addie was confident. Watched her friend wordlessly as she processed all that.

After several more seconds of silence, she finally answered her. “Twenty-seven,” she mumbled.

Addie stared at her in awe. She loved Carter, but truly, her best friend had the greatest love story she had ever heard. “Yeah, exactly.”

Her attention went back to the available apartments. She frowned as she looked at the screen. “They’re all fifth floor,” she closed her eyes. It seemed like an obstacle set out to change her mind. “Maybe I shouldn’t do it.”

Addie was back at the table and pushing her hands out of the way. “So you don’t go on the balcony. It’ll be fine. You’re not going to live there so you can lounge and sightsee the view, anyway. You’re going so you can go back to him,” she reminded her. Not quite ignoring her fears but making sure they didn’t hold her back. Addie clicked the link for the first apartment and began typing in her information as if it were her own; she wrote that she was ready to move in within a month. “What if he hasn’t moved on? What are you going to do if you’re wrong and I’m right?”

It seemed impossible. Harry was beautiful, loving, so kind. Perfect. Why wouldn’t he have moved on?

There was this little flutter in her chest. It felt the way birthday candles flickered when everyone was singing, and the cake was brought to sit before the guest of honor. She grabbed the book at the end of the table and jotted a note down about how hope was often described as a flicker of light in the dark. When all seemed lost. But no one ever mentioned how darkness often came right after a birthday wish. How hope was really nothing more than a flameless candle.

Because of what she just wrote, she blew out a deep breath. “I hope you’re right,” she whispered as she closed the notebook again hoping her wish would come true.

*Present*

It felt like he couldn’t get back to the station fast enough. He left his coffee behind in the truck; only two sips taken from it. But it turned out it couldn’t compare to the adrenaline he felt then. He left his wallet behind in his locker. That didn’t matter, either. He didn’t need it.

Nothing else mattered.

He barely said goodbye to anyone and left his coworker to tell the rest of the shift why he was rushing to get out of the station. Normally, he took off his uniform before leaving but the thought of not seeing her, or that she was already gone had him sprinting to his car in the lot. Instead of his change of clothes he remained in his standard-issued navy-blue pants and the flame-resistant boots. Fortunately, he chose the station’s T-shirt and not the more formal button down for the day. It was the smallest bit more comfortable and slightly less ridiculous to be out and about.

Maybe she was just a figment of my imagination. He thought to himself. But his partner saw her. So unless he was projecting said figment...

She really was home.

To further his torture, his car and flow of traffic refused to go faster than the speed limit. It was utterly infuriating for his cause. He wanted nothing more than to just be there beside her. Nonetheless, he returned to where he last saw her car; turned right onto the street at the light and drove until something looked like she could be there. His heart was racing faster than it had in years. Adrenaline and excitement rushing through his body, making him sweat with anxiety. But it felt good. Like it was the best thing. It felt like he had just finished running. It was pure joy.

She was home.

There was an apartment building that seemed entirely too tall for their town. But he pulled into the lot wondering if he could identify the car that he saw on the road. He pulled into the spot beside it once he saw it, his heart in his throat. Harry took a deep breath, closed his eyes and tried not to panic. Scaring her off was his worst fear and if he did so, he might lose his mind worse than he ever had.

There was a metallic sound that hit his ears as he opened the door. Like the way a garage door opened. By the end of the lot was a storage pod, door open, and the sight of her from behind. Harry thought he was going to cry but he swallowed the emotion down. Slowly, he walked over, still terrified to scare her.

She disappeared deeper into the pod, and he heard a crunching, scraping sound. As he approached, he realized she was trying to maneuver a loveseat sofa out of a truck all by herself. There was a small dolly on the ground outside the storage pod entrance and Harry wondered if she seriously intended on lifting all the heavy stuff on her own like this.

“Fuck,” she hissed. The end of the sofa she was holding simultaneously dropped to the floor of the truck. “Stupid fucking—”

“Are you okay?” Harry asked instinctively. He went right into the storage pod as if he was moving in alongside her and was joining her because he had stepped out to grab something from his car and was just returning. It wasn’t the grand reunion he had planned, but to be fair, he hadn’t really thought about this moment in a long time.

Even the way her voice sounded when she cursed was sweeter than he could have imagined. She stuck her finger between her lips due to whatever injury she had inflicted upon herself. She shook her head with irritation. “I swear I’m a magnet for those stupid staples they put on the fabric and frame,” she inspected her finger and then pinched it into her hand. Effortlessly, he grabbed her hand. Like he hadn’t missed a day of touching her. He cupped her hand in his, inspected her finger himself. “This is like the tenth time this has happened to me.”

“I think y’need a new couch then, kitten,” he chuckled. It wasn’t his intention to just fall back into the way it was before she left. But it was without thinking—instinctive and natural. It made her heart ache to hear her pet-name from his lips. She sighed and gently tugged her hand from Harry’s and shook her hand, ridding herself of the minor pain. Harry turned and looked at the variety of furniture within the storage pod. Given he had been to her house no less than one million times, he recognized the couch he had also grown up with. The coffee table that they put their feet on when they watched movies. The table in her kitchen where he had so many dinners with her, he couldn’t count it. “Y’mum coming back?” He murmured terrified to hear the answer but desperate to know why he was seeing her in the flesh after all the years between them.

She shook her head. “No... she’s living closer to my aunt now in this tiny one-bedroom place. So, she had a ton of extra furniture. This is all hers. I’m just picking what I like best.”

His heart felt like it was going to explode out of his chest and jump into hers and live there, the way it was supposed to for all this time. “Y’moving back?” He tried to keep his voice even, so it didn’t sound so hopeful in case he was wrong. But he hoped. He hoped so badly.

“Yeah,” his heart swelled as she nodded shyly. But then her face contorted into a strange expression. Harry tried to place it but he hadn’t ever seen it on her face. Especially not in front of him. Was it...anxiety? About him? That seemed wrong. “Um... if that’s okay?” She asked looking at the ground briefly before gazing back at him.

Why she was asking didn’t bother him nearly as much as it should have. How she could possibly think he was going to decide such a fate was beyond him. But he was immediate in his answer; anything to get rid of the weird expression on her face that made him realize she was thinking about how she needed permission to live in the same town again. He nodded quickly. “’Course!” He almost shouted it. Cleared his throat awkwardly. “I mean... s’not my decision really... but... It’ll be... nice t’have y’back,” he was so worried he was going to scare her off. He was glad he wasn’t holding her hand any longer because he was sure his hands were sweating something fierce.

“Yeah? That’s good. I’m...” she took a deep breath. “I’m really glad I’m back,” she looked at him with those beautiful eyes that he loved more than anything. That gentle smile that made his heart race.

“Good,” he murmured because if he said anything more, he was worried he would cry or ruin whatever moment of bliss this was. She was real and in front of him.

“Can I help y’move this?” He asked.

“Absolutely not,” she shook her head.

He frowned and tilted his head at her. “You are obviously getting off work and I have made you do way too many furniture moves over the years and I don’t think it would be—”

Harry pulled his phone from his pocket and sent a message to his group chat with their friends. “The rest will be here in a bit.”

“No, they’re not,” she looked alarmed. “Harry, you’re joking.”

“Y’know them, kitten. They’re going t’be so excited—”

“Harry, they hate me.”

They didn’t have a lot of time alone. Harry gave them a forty-five-minute window to themselves. It wasn’t much, but he didn’t want to overwhelm her.

Professing his undying love for her after their time apart and begging for her back... he was hoping he wouldn’t manage that in forty-five minutes.

But the idea that anyone could hate her, when he was so completely, wholly, unbelievably in love with her even after three years of not speaking and nothing but memories replaying in his head... “They don’t hate you.” She looked at him nervously, like when they joined a lake party and people pressured her to jump off the plateau leading to the water. “Kitten,” he shook his head. “They missed you. They’ll be thrilled to see you.” She shrugged, unbelieving. “I promise,” he assured her and began distracting the pair of them before he said something ridiculous (even though I love you was so close to the tip of his tongue, it was absurd).

Harry took the end of the sofa that had snagged her finger. “Can y’jus’ guide it for me, kitten?” He asked. She nodded and helped get it off and onto the dolly. It was something small, but an effortless reminder that they worked so well together. They barely spoke, practically reading the other’s mind after all this time as they maneuvered the couch out of the storage pod. Once on the dolly, they made their way for the building in silence. “Elevator?” Harry asked. She nodded, continuing the comfortable quietness. “What floor?” He asked.

“Fifth,” she wrinkled her nose in distaste.

His eyebrows rose in surprise. It felt like a hug that she hadn’t got from him in a long time. The feeling that he remembered something about her. Which was ridiculous—she remembered everything about him. “Y’didn’t ask for a lower floor?” He pouted.

“There were none,” she frowned.

“M’surprised y’agreed.”

“It’s a new apartment building,” she shrugged and shook her head. She felt like an idiot for saying that to him. He probably knew it was a new building. Probably did the safety inspection himself. “Anyway, there weren’t many options around here...” It took every bit of Harry’s crumbling restraint to not invite her to move in with him right then.

He missed her. That went without saying. Worried he would still say something outlandish, likea marriage proposal, he broached a different topic. “How... how was school?”

“Really good. But I only have a semester left because I took all the summer courses,” she explained. “They’re virtual and I... I really missed it here... so I figured... I figured it was time.”

His heart leapt. Praying that he was one of the things she missed but desperately clung to his semblance of coolness. “Miss Smarty Pants,” he murmured with a smile. Then she laughed. Harry thought he was cured. All that time between them was nothing. She laughed, she smiled. She was his best friend. She seemed older, more mature, and somehow more gorgeous than he could have ever imagined. In fact, she was so pretty he felt his mouth move before he could think about it.

“Y’look beautiful,” he couldn’t help but say it as they got to the floor and she gestured down the hall for her apartment.

“That’s very sweet. I lost a lot of weight running around campus and work without a car,” she admitted. “Well... enough weight to...”

Harry sighed, shook his head. Wishing he could squeeze the insecurity out of her like a wet sponge. “Your weight has never had anything t’do with why y’were beautiful, kitten.”

The way her cheeks turned pink made him feel sick. Didn’t people compliment her while she was gone?

Fortunately, he didn’t have to suffer thinking about her lack of compliments for long. “You look great, Harry. But you always did. It was incredible seeing you on the firetruck,” she smiled fondly. “I’m... I’m really proud of you.”

The very pride she felt went directly to his heart, swelled in his chest, and bloomed warmth all through his body. Once more he tried to feign his excitement and overwhelming urge to wrap her in a hug he decided to distract himself. “Where do y’want it?” She took a deep breath and shrugged.

“I don’t know... maybe... against this wall for now, I can move it later.”

“Don’t hurt yourself, love,” he frowned as he settled it into position. He was already worried about how he would manage to invite himself back into her apartment to prevent any self-injury—especially from the staples in her furniture.

“I won’t,” she promised. “I was... going to have Lauren come by once I get settled a little bit. She could help.”

“S’nice. I see Lauren a lot at the coffee shop. M’sure she’ll be happy to see you,” he smiled sweetly.

With the sofa in place, it felt the slightest bit awkward. She worried she would do something insane, like kiss him and put her arms around him like she was his necklace. So instead, she thanked him. “Thank you,” she sighed. “For helping.”

“Of course, love. M’happy to see you. S’been...” he trailed off and shook his head. “Where’s the rest of your stuff?” He asked curiously. He also asked so he wouldn’t continue the end of his sentence about having not seen her in ages.

“Ugh,” she groaned and rubbed her hands over her face. “My storage unit is delayed naturally. There was a mix-up and it’s on it’s way cross country currently, no way to stop it so it’ll be...” she shook her head. “Ages. Until I see it. Fortunately, I have a good chunk in my car... but all my books, shelves, a ton of stuff I’ve collected since college. I don’t even have a glass to offer you a water,” she pouted.

He chuckled. “Oh... s’okay. M’fine, kitten.”

“It’s the principle of the thing, Harry.”

He smiled and looked around again. “S’nice here. The balcony is pretty.”

“I guess... but I don’t plan on going on the balcony unless necessary... this fear of mine is ridiculous. Can’t even enjoy all 804 square feet of it.” She glanced out the door to the balcony. “I don’t think we ever had a building this tall around here. The view, from what I can see, is so pretty. A new way of seeing our pretty little town like this.”

Harry’s heart fluttered erratically over the way she said we and our. But he tried not to panic and instead made himself useful. “Do y’want t’go out there t’get a better look?”

She shook her head. “No way. I’ll probably hyperventilate or throw up or something equally embarrassing.”

He snorted, smiling easily. “I’ve seen you throw up before,” he reminded her.

“I’m well aware, Harry,” she groaned. “That was so gross. Literally the worst. I don’t know why you stayed.”

“I agree it was the worst, but because I thought y’were dying. Not because y’were gross or anything,” he shrugged. “C’mon, I’ll show you,” he moved next to her at the window and unlocked the slider, pushed it out of the way. She watched him step over the little threshold and held his hand out to her.

It was the reason she couldn’t go on a roller coaster by herself or jump off the rope swing at the lake like all their friends did in school. She couldn’t help her mom hang up Christmas lights on the house and always paid Harry to do it for her. Her fear of heights felt irrational. Only a small percentage feared it. Harry was always quick to remind her that the small percentage still accumulated to hundreds of millions of people.

But even still, he held his hand out, waiting patiently and expectantly. Somehow, it was the easiest thing in the world to trust him. The feeling was electric, holding his hand. It was as if no time had passed at all. As if she had said ‘see you tomorrow’ instead of, ‘it’s too far for us.’

He squeezed her hand as she took cautious steps onto the balcony. A measly hand hold. Harry had touched and kissed parts of her that would never see a drop of sunlight but somehow the way he held her hand was more intimate. His palm pressed to hers, warm and familiar. His thumb stroked the back of her hand. It was perfect. It was slow and felt so safe. It was unreal how easily it was to revert to the time before. Harry was there, so she was going to be okay.

“Watch y’step,” he said softly. “S’a little uneven there,” he scuffed his shoe on the floor. “S’probably a support beam,” he explained. She nodded.

“I’ll have to put a little patio rug out here and a table and chairs so no one trips.”

“That sounds so cute. Can y’put a grill out here?”

“A grill?”

“I don’t know. I was thinking about that pound cake bread y’like with the strawberries? Or jus’ marshmallows.”

She smiled eager to hear more about what he remembered and what came to mind so readily. “Uh... I have to read the lease agreement. I’m not sure. Probably a fire hazard. Wouldn’t want you rushing down here because of me,” she giggled.

He smiled and squeezed her hand. He glanced back over the railing and admired the view for a moment. “M’not sure about the whole town, but a good chunk of it.”

“Is that the fire station way back that way,” she pointed and then put her free hand on the railing. Harry stood beside her, following the direction of where she pointed, proud that she was able to stand there without fear it seemed. It made him happy she still felt safe with him. “Yeah, I think so... Mum’s house is...” he pointed the other way. “Y’see the blue house? Four streets back from that.”

“Cool,” she grinned. “Do you live with her still?”

He chuckled. “No... I live...” he squinted a bit and pointed back towards the fire station. “You see the shopping plaza?” He asked. She nodded. “Two streets behind it. The small one.”

“It’s cute... I think,” she giggled again which made Harry chuckle quietly. “I like the trees.”

“I want t’put a hammock in and—” he released her hand to speak and gesture what his plan was with two of the trees in his yard. But she gasped the second he released her hand. Nearly tripped as she stumbled back away from the railing. Harry caught her around the waist before she could fall on the uneven ground. “Hey, careful—”

“Don’t let go,” she reminded him turning toward him slightly but trying to maintain as much distance as she could; given he was holding her around the waist, and she refused to let go. It wouldn’t be fair to him to get too cozy in his arms the way she would have a few years prior.

“Oh,” he swallowed. His heart raced with nerves and anxiety. Part of him felt shame for not realizing what that would do to her. He should have known. He knew how nervous she got about heights. Especially from the level they were on. “M’sorry, kitten.”

She swallowed; her cheeks turned a soft shade of pink. “No, I’m sorry. I was just... I don’t—”

“No, s’okay,” he promised. “I won’t let go,” he assured her and took her hand again (even though he would have preferred to have her stay in his embrace). “I wasn’t thinking.”

She bit the inside of her lip. “It’s not your fault.”

“No, but m’sorry. Didn’t mean t’scare you, love.”

Harry was way too nice. If he was smart, he would have pushed her off the side of the balcony for making him so sad the last few years. “It’s really okay, Harry. I know you didn’t—”

“But I should have—”

“Harry,” she squeezed his hand silencing his sentence. “You don’t need to apologize. I promise. I’m just nervous, you know.”

It was quiet and Harry sighed. “Yeah, I know.”

They could have stayed on that balcony for the rest of their lives if it meant Harry was going to hold her hand and they would stay rooted in that spot. They were silent and watched their not-so-little town, filled with bustling cars and people. “It feels bigger,” she whispered.

“Well, y’did go t’a school with the population of sixteen people and a moose.” The laughter that came from her mouth was like pure magic. Harry swore he never heard anything sound so sweet.

Once they both stopped giggling, she wanted to know more about his hammock and what he planned to do with his yard and other things. She wanted to hear about his career and school and everything in between. As she was about to ask, Harry saw the cars pull into the lot.

Sarah and Eleanor in one vehicle, the boys in the other. “C’mon,” he murmured and pulled her back inside. Silently, they made their way down in the elevator to the parking lot once more. The five of them were grouped together near the back of the two cars, huddled together conferring.

“I bet it’s a creepy shrine. Like he’s going to do a séance to get in touch with her,” Louis suggested.

“She’s not dead, Louis,” Eleanor rolled her eyes. “I’m just worried that he’s finally gone off the deep end,” she frowned.

“Well, it can’t be worse than him asking Lauren where she is all the time,” Sarah grumbled bitterly. Mitch put a hand on her back and gently rubbed the bitter tension from her muscles soothingly.

“Who knows, but he asked for us to bring him pizza, so that’s a good sign, right?” Niall asked.

“They’re going to hate me,” she whispered under her breath as they approached quietly.

“Shh,” he squeezed her hand.

“Can I just say that I’m really worried we’re going to have to call the authorities about him?” Louis asked releasing a massive breath, like it was painful to say the words out loud.

“No, I was thinking the same thing,” Sarah nodded in agreement. “It’s right around the time she left and you know how he gets—”

“The first year was the worst,” Mitch reminded everyone.

“You guys really thought I would text you and tell y’where t’find m’body?” Harry asked. They all turned to the pair of them. Their words disappeared into the air. Silence spread between all of them.

“Holy shit,” Louis whispered.

“Pretty weird of him to ask you to bring pizza if that were the case,” she swallowed nervously. For her whole life these people were her best friends and she abandoned them as much as she abandoned Harry, their town, and everything that was good. She looked at the five pairs of eyes that were unblinking as they processed what was happening.

Niall dropped the pizza. “Oh my God,” he was first. He broke into a quick stride and wrapped his arms around her the way Harry dreamed of doing for the last forty-five minutes. He kissed the side of her head and Harry was just so overwhelmed with jealousy he tried to focus his attention on anything but the way he felt utter dread seeing Niall hold and kiss her the way he had ached to do so for the last three years. “How are you, princess?” He asked.

“I’m okay, how are you?”

“Out of the way!” Eleanor hip-checked Niall before he could answer and wrapped her arms around her the same way that Niall had. Further fueling how jealous Harry was. “Make yourself useful, Niall. Order more pizza!”

“I don’t even have plates or enough seats to have you all in and—”

“Did you think we would get all fancy?” Sarah asked and gently pushed Eleanor aside to get her own hug. “We’ll sit on the floor and eat off the boxes.” Mitch was next and murmured something in her ear that Harry wanted to know desperately, solely because her cheeks turned that pretty shade of pink so much.

Louis was last. Because as hurt as Harry was, Louis was a close second. All of them mourned for their friend in their own ways—even though she wasn’t truly gone. But naturally they put their own grief aside for Harry. But she was back now. Sure, Harry was ready to forgive her instantly, but Louis would be a harder sell it seemed. “Hi,” she whispered. Louis looked at her pensively, making her gulp.

“Hi,” his voice was curt and filled with distrust.

She looked at the ground. “Pretty crazy about Messi, hmm?” She looked back up at him.

“Don’t tempt me, darling,” he grumbled and finally pulled her into a hug. He kissed the side of her face and held her for a long time. Louis also whispered something in her ear, and she nodded against him.

“Well,” Eleanor clapped her hands together. “I was wondering why Harry said we needed to wear comfy clothes. Point us in the right direction, babe. Let’s get you moved back home.”

“You okay?” Sarah asked quietly, taking up the rear with Harry as they moved toward her storage pod. Peppering her with questions and falling back into old jokes and laughter within seconds.

Harry nodded, his heart finally started to feel whole. “Yeah," she turned back and met his gaze with a gentle smile. A smile that made him melt and feel like he could fly if she asked. "Finally.”

--

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I'm sorry if I missed anyone in the taglist. Please let me know if you'd like to join, if it didn't work, if you no longer want to be included, etc. :)

If you like this, check out my masterlist here

[star-anise]

Everyone's got a take, and I've got a take too, about the current Internet Villain: James Somerton, a gay Youtuber who just got exposed (in the back half of a 4-hour video) as massively plagiarizing the work of LGBTQ+ media critics, historians, and memoirists, and then exposed in another 2-hour video as just making up the wildest nonsense about the topics he demonstrably had access to accurate information on.

He achieved a six-figure income on his work by squeezing money out of his audience with claims...

That only he was creating content that preserved queer history and elevated the voices and experiences of the LGBTQ+ community (a lie)

He was in serious financial distress and would have to go out of business if people didn't give him tons of money (a lie)

That he was going to use some of that cash to make definitely good and not-at-all-plagiarized independent movies, a thing he was definitely skilled and experienced enough to do (a lie), and

That those plagiarism allegations were incorrect,, and frankly,,,, hurtful and homophobic. (a GIANT lie)

Like, here's a visualization of the script of one of his videos, "Society and Queer Horror". The highlighted bits were lifted nearly verbatim from the works of others—the 18 authors identified at the time the exposé was posted—and presented as Somerton's own work.

So here's what drives me absolutely up the wall about this:

If he had just ADMITTED that it was the work of other people, THAT WOULD STILL BE COOL. If he had just said, up front, "We are going on a survey of thoughts and insights people have had about this topic", that would still be a good video with a real audience!

Like yes, he studied business in university, he might not have gotten the kinds of research skills and knowledge someone like Kaz Rowe uses to not just report on the history and analysis of others, but evaluate their relative validity and trustworthiness.

But honestly, since watching my niblings (oldest is 13) watch Youtube, I think you honestly can't underestimate the number of viewers who are really hungry for someone saying, "I don't understand this topic! Let's explore it together!"

But NOOOOOOO, Somerton didn't want to be just some schmuck waxing enthusiastic about homoeroticism on film and acknowledging the smartness of other people. He wanted to be HIM, MR. SMARTYBOY, very sophisticated and alluring and thoughtful and deep. Definitely an intellectual heavyweight who just happened to spout off his own personal ideas and analysis that put him at the forefront of all the scholarship on the topic he's come across.

I hate being wrong. Hate being wrong. But blogging for most of my life has forced me to confront constant textual evidence that two or ten or twenty years ago, I said some dumb-ass shit. Honestly, it'd probably keep me up at night sometimes even if I didn't have a written record. I absolutely understand the desire to scan the field, find the coolest people around, and quickly clothe yourself in as perfect an imitation of them as you can manage.

But if you want to be an artist or a scholar who produces something lasting, you can't prioritize coolness over truth all the time. To develop your true, independent voice, you need to find a time and place where it is just you and just the work you're doing, and you have pick up your tools and say, I don't know if I'm doing this right, but this is what feels right to me.

There are a lot of things in life to which we can only truly contribute our presence and our perspectives. Things we can only witness or hold space for. We cannot go back and bleed the pain out of history, or erase the complexity of another person's life. Not honestly, at least.

But those are the times that need our presence, our perspectives, our witness, and our space. When we gather round and tell sad tales about the death of kings, honesty can be the only thing you give that's worth a damn in the large scale of things.

If this dude had owned up to the truth and honestly showed the work of trying to piece together a queer understanding of the world, trying to draw the threads of culture together until he found a place he fit inside them, it would have been so much more valuable to our culture as a whole.

He probably made more money this way, though. While it lasted.

[uncouth-the-fifth]

good morning, charlie - Leon Kennedy/Reader

read it on Ao3.

Pairing: Agent!Leon/Detective!Wife!Reader Tags: domestic fluff with the tiniest dustings of background angst, married life, hugging, kissing, and snuggling. Words: 3k (yes, I'm capable of keeping something this short) Notes: read this in a WWE announcer voice: THAT'S RIGHT! UNCOUTH HAS COME CRASHING BACK INTO THE RING AFTER YET ANOTHER MONTHS-LONG HIATUS. i'm magical, truly. here is the first Leon fic I promised last month! There's so much I want to say about this little drabble, but I'll save that for my curious ppl on Ao3. this is going to be a big 180 from my spn content, and I sincerely hope that's okay with the public 😭 for my RE people: enjoy domestic Leon bullshit!

At two in the morning, Washington D.C. is pouring everything it has into crafting the coziest atmosphere of all time. A pleasant window-tapping storm had rolled in right around when you resolved to stay up working. Some late-night radio host is making soft, fizzing chatter in the next room, and coupled with a stellar view of the city from fancy floor-to-ceiling windows, you have a prime opportunity to pass the fuck out.

Unfortunately, you have made some spectacular life choices that don’t mix well with a full night’s rest. Nope, no sleep for you. Despite all of fate’s attempts to stop you from being a cop, (including throwing a city-wide outbreak at you on your first day), you are still here, gripping your job with both hands. At two in the damn morning.

Since scrubbing your eyes hadn’t woken you up the first five times you tried it, you give it another shot as you pace the length of your living room rug—from the coffee table you’ve stacked with files, then back to the whiteboard pasted top-to-bottom with pictures of missing young women. The whiteboard had been Leon’s idea. After the fourth time you’d transformed a flattened cardboard box into a morbid case-board for work, he’d cajoled you into letting him buy one for the apartment.

But I won’t be able to stab the tacks into it, you’d pouted.

Oh, the agony, your husband had drawled. He was a master of delivering a good, dry look.

You’d propped your fists on your hips and tried your best to look serious. The red yarn connecting everything isn’t just a detective-movie thing, y’know! It’s actually really useful. And I need my tacks to stick the yarn in—

Leon had cut cleanly through your building sass with another look, this time one glimmering with humor. Then I’ll get you magnetic ones, detective. Don’t you use whiteboards at the precinct anyway?

You’d grumbled. Because, yes, you did use whiteboards at the station, and they did have the little tacks with the magnets on the bottom. But you’d refused to deal with Leon being all smug (he was unbearable pretty when he was right), and had teased back instead, Whatever, nerd. Why don’t you and the other two angels go call Charlie already?

The reference had gone clean over Leon’s head. Of course, he hated being left out of a joke, so he’d roped you over by your wrist and pinched an explanation out of you until you were squealing with giggles.

Summarizing Charlie’s Angels to Leon had been a lot like offering a paper rocketship to an aerospace engineer. But, hey, picturing him running around in skimpy outfits and escaping action movie explosions on a motorcycle is a whole lot more fun than… than the real deal.

You don’t want to think about what his missions are really like. Not that you’re even allowed to know in the first place. Being Leon’s wife permits you a government-issued phone with his handler’s number, and on antsy days you can push Ingrid for details if you want. But after so long you’ve learned it only hurts both of you—for her, in the inability to answer, and for you, in the excruciating pain of being unable to know. Where is he? That’s classified.

She can’t always tell you when he’s coming home, either. So much of your life is hinged on her check-ins, and even more is forced to live off a simple, He’s okay.

For the seventh time, you scrub at your tired eyes and suck in a deep breath. You’d gotten that fabled text from Hunnigan—he’s okay—earlier today, and like always you crawled through the rest of your shift roiling with anticipation, waiting for Leon to materialize back into your life.

You force your gaze back to the whiteboard, littered with notes and pictures hung up with magnetic tacks. The faces of five missing women bore back. The ten-ton weight of your caseload slams down in full, and again, you scold yourself for floating back into comforting memories of your husband. These girls have lost all comfort in the world since they were taken. Your Captain gave you the responsibility of finding them, and after all you’ve been through, after all the other cases you’ve closed, there can’t be any room for failure. Think.

Your legs ache from being on your feet all day, chasing leads, but dropping into Leon’s armchair for even an instant will just have you nodding off again. More pacing it is, then. This is your pattern for the next half-hour: pace, re-read witness statements, turn, sip your coffee, pace, cross-reference alibis. He’s okay. Two of the girls were taken from Queen’s Chapel, two from Takoma, one from Woodridge. He’s fine. The last victim breaks the profile. What’s different about her? Why take her? Think think think— You know what Leon would do. He was the kind of person you could put in front of a problem, and no matter what he would find a way to shoulder his way through. With physical force, sure, but mental force too. He would sit and just look at the puzzle, and sheer willpower would lead him to some kind of answer. But you’d been pushing and pushing for days now, pursuing every lead, pressing every witness, yet nothing will give. The whole thing feels like a punching bag you’re beating at over and over again, knuckles raw and bloody—

Keys rattle just outside the front door.

First the big deadbolt scrapes open, unlatching with a heavy thud, and that sound alone is enough to shock you awake. More than any coffee could. Then comes the doorknob. Leon hasn’t even turned his key before you’ve twisted the lock open, yanked the door out of your way, and sent it whipping into the jamb with his keyring still swinging from its slot. You give him one full blink to register that it’s you before you’re throwing yourself on him without a single lick of shame, legs and all.

Of course, Leon bears your weight with grace. He grunts out an oof! when you come in for landing, and the living, breathing sound drains into one gruff laugh. You’re scooped up under the thighs and teddy bear squeezed against him. He reeks of cheap motel soap and something faintly coppery—then mint, a whole world of plush, wet spearmint when he nudges your face up with his nose and lays a hello kiss on you. The taste of his gum and the scratch of his stubble on your chin make your skin feel like it’s fizzing, inside-burning-out, every inch of you stood on end by his static charge. Jesus, this guy. He feels like fucking magic, and you’re confident that the laws of physics don’t quite apply around him. Everything in the room, in the too-big apartment that’s painfully empty without him in it, tilts toward Leon.

You shove your face nose-first into his neck and clutch the back of his jacket in both fists. Swallowing hard, you manage, “Hey, angel.”

“Good morning, Charlie,” Leon says.

If you had any resolve for today left in you at all, the wash of his sizzling butter voice would squash the last of it. You’d been trying to be sweet, but your husband has to be funny about fucking everything, of course. Even after weeks spent apart. You love him so fucking much.

“Don’t tell me you found time to watch that stupid movie.” Your voice is muffled by his coat, and you’re grateful for an excuse to hide.

You’re moving. Leon carries you inside, his wedding band pressing into your leg and his other big, warm hand spooned around your back. “Boring plane ride. I wanted to get your jokes.”

Your front door is toed shut, and with all the efficient maneuvering of a proper agent, Leon gets the place locked up behind you. Somewhere in all the commotion he’d dropped his go-bag by the welcome mat, and you hear the dramatic thunk, thunk, of his fancy work loafers being kicked off beside it. Only then does he slip you onto your own feet again.

Your hands slide down his arms as you make contact with the floor. Somewhere in the back of your mind you’re aware that he’s damp from the rain, but that fact hangs in the little alternate universe he’s made in your front hall. Standing there and being able to look at him straight-on, Leon doesn’t feel real. It’s like your constant thoughts of him have manifested a ghost in his shape, mimicking the smiley rookie you remember.

He greets you with a quiet, beaten-down smile, and you understand immediately that the world has thrown its fair share of punches at him, too. You’ve both had a shit week. The Kennedy surname just brims with good luck, huh?

Your hands work on autopilot as you take him in, slipping under the fabric of his jacket and lingering over his thudding heart. His warm blue gaze swims over your face, and you can almost hear the clicking mechanisms in his head as he forces himself out of operative mode and into home mode by looking at you.

“It’s a really bad movie,” you say, choked up.

Leon’s jacket hits the floor with his shoes. There’s a swath of ugly, purpling bruises crawling up his bare arm, old enough to be greening at the edges, and your stomach churns when you see it.

He taps your chin up, pulling you away from the damage and back on him. His voice rolls over you like bourbon in a glass. “Absolutely. So-bad-it’s-good, even. We should watch it, make fun of it together. Like, why the hell does…”

Leon flawlessly falls into an analysis of the movie’s poorly-written espionage elements. The movie you made one offhand joke about several weeks ago, mind you. He’s pulling at straws, saying whatever the hell comes to mind to make you laugh, so exhausted he’s literally swaying on his feet. You can’t believe he’s trying to distract you with something so trivial, but this is your husband. One flash of that weary closed-mouth smile, one brush of those callused hands down your wrists, and your whole world resumes its orbit around him.

You laugh at the jokes he’s obviously crafted for your benefit, a weak chuckle your heart isn’t in. With his hands looped around your wrists, he guides your arms around his neck and welcomes you back into the toasty bubble of his touch. Leon’s even warmer from being tucked underneath his coat. Pure goodness and safety glows off him like a fucking nuclear reactor, and it dawns on you that you haven’t felt safe at all since he left. Anyone can be plucked off the streets here.

One more scratchy kiss and then he’s leading you deeper into your apartment. No one on Earth would believe that he’s a chatty guy, but he talks the whole way through. Too often he’s left to sit in his own mind on missions, and you’re treated to two week’s worth of his backlog in the next ten minutes. All the little things he wanted to say to you. The streams of smart-mouth commentary he was famous for at the academy are all inner monologue now, but you’re confident the Leon radio show still runs twenty four hours a day. He chatters so much in his head that it slips out of him like water sometimes—

“…that close to an explosion would disintegrate you, but fuck physics I guess—“ Leon interrupts his own flow of thought to squint at you. “Quit looking at me like that. It’s unfair how pretty you are when you’re tired. What was I—not like the laws of physics apply to that movie anyway, but…”

—and you’re stupidly charmed by it. He talks to comfort himself, and because the two of you are one unit, one person to him, he does the same for you.

With your hand tethered in his, he clicks off the radio in the kitchen. One of Leon’s side-stories replaces the random late-night station that’d been playing, floating over the din of the rain like bass over relaxing drums. He pours out the dregs of your coffee. He closes the files full of gruesome crime scene photos on your coffee table, and you watch, barely able to keep your head up, as he flips your whiteboard over to its blank side. You’ll get his second opinion on the case tomorrow.

Leon sweeps the place with you in tow, and once the security system’s armed and you’re almost sagging against him, the lights come off. Though you’ve had plenty of time to adjust to the Leon that returned home from training, you’ll never get used to the little alien ticks it’s given him. He navigates to your bedroom in complete blackness. He avoids the creaky floorboard just outside your door without seeing, deathly silent. The broad presence of him looms in the dark.

One wall of the bedroom is nothing but paneled glass, throwing a long square of dark blue moonlight over your rumpled comforter. While the view of the Potomac and Capital Hill is stellar from up here, you’ve always felt out of place among the things Leon’s generous salary has earned the two of you: a flat with a private elevator in the nice part of town, fresh-off-the-press sports cars, a getaway cabin up north. So much of it you end up enjoying by yourself. It only ever feels worth it when he’s here, smacking his elbow into the digital wall-panel that controls your A/C.

“—s’ supposed to be a touch screen,” he sidebars himself for the tenth time. Softer, Leon adds, “Brush your teeth. I’ll be right there.”

You rope your arms around his middle and press your face into the heart of his back, careful of the bruises he’s doing his best to hide. “Wanna wait for you.”

Leon doesn’t protest. There’s more little beeps as he screws with the temperature of your mattress or something, deciding, “We live in a damn spaceship. Are we too good for plain old-fashioned buttons now?”

Apparently you are, since old man Leon fails to figure out how to crank the heat up. You let him play with it for a little while longer (it’s not his fault he’s rarely home), and then intervene with a few quick taps when things get dire. The heater hums to life under the floor a beat later, and he turns in your grip to scoff, mystified by your vast and incredible knowledge.

“My smart girl,” he hums.

Just that is enough to chip off a piece of your strength. Had he said that to you over the phone, a million miles away in god-knows-where, your knees would buckle. He is the only one who talks to you like that—with so much simple, uncomplicated love. Too tired to put your thoughts into words, you flatten a hand over his heart and kiss the sun-freckled nape of his neck.

“Clingy,” Leon mutters. You’re pretty sure it’s supposed to sound dry and funny, another one of his jokes. But then he’s smoothing both of his palms down your arms in two long handsy swaths, and the gesture tells you everything about just how clingy he’s feeling, too.

His stories make getting ready for bed an even slower affair. You couldn’t mind if you wanted to. As you help him out of his starchy dress-shirt button by button, he surprises you with a rare explanation of where he’s been for the last weeks. The UK. Truly, your husband is the special secret agent to end all special secret agents: he talks around his job as if it was a bump he’d hit on the way home, entertaining you instead with his Leon-ified vision of London. Touristy as shit. Loud as shit. Smelled like shit.

“Just like DC,” he chuckles, and then a second time when your fluffy head pops through the collar of the sleep shirt he’s dressing you in.

It’s too much rough, cinnamon spice laughter for one woman to stand. You duck away to brush your teeth and groan into your palms like a schoolgirl over him, but sure enough, Leon trails you, fingers chasing the hem of your shirt (his shirt) in a sleepy daze. He always keeps you in view. Nervous, maybe, to have you out of his sight.

This tradition continues when the two of you crawl into bed. Your eyes have adjusted to the darkness, and so has your body, able to sense him on the stupidly expensive mattress beside you. He thinks you can’t tell, but his gaze roves over you again and again—down your back when you flop face-first into the plush bedding, over the slope of your shoulder when you wiggle under the covers. Leon draws you into the glorious halo of his body heat with a gentle hand on your belly. If you could bottle this feeling, the whole world would be sick and stupid for him in hours. Minutes even.

You feel so safe that the word doesn’t even come to mind. Just vague, peaceful shapes of things you know, home, sleep, cologne, cozy. His work-rough palm with his body-warm wedding band slips under your tee to sweep over your ribs. Then comes Leon’s face, just on the right side of stubbly as he shoves it between your shoulder blades without a single lick of shame. The breath he takes of you is so heavy that his whole frame shudders with it, top to bottom.

You remember how you’d burrowed into his jacket the second he got home and think, You are me and I am you. We’re always on the same page.

With that, the stage is set. DC’s faraway glittering cityscape lights up all the raindrops on your window, and you watch them run as the two of you melt into one another. Leon’s warm breaths slow across your neck. Time for you to deliver your line.

You wet your lips and murmur into your pillow, “Do you want to talk about your mission?”

Legally, he can’t say yes. Government secrets, bureaucracy, yadda yadda. Leon isn’t always emotionally ready to crack open a coffin he’s just finished sealing, either, but while it is his job to close your case files for the night, you’re his wife. You’re the only person who can knock on that door. With how little choice he has left in his life, you try to give him options whenever you can. Regardless, you know the man you married—strong-willed on a mythical fucking level, and just as self-sacrificing. He’ll always try to spare you.

Sure enough, Leon says, “Tomorrow. Do you want to talk about your case?”

You shake your head at him, exhausted to the point of dizziness. “Tomorrow.”

A tender kiss is pressed to the nape of your neck, and the whole world goes silent for the perfect, husky whisper you’ve ached to hear. You feel his wry smile against your skin. “We’re always on the same page, baby.”

[littyhoney]

Right Person,Wrong Time. (part 2)

BIG SPOILER WARNING TO ACROSS THE SPIDER-VERSE!!

Earth 42 Miles Morales x Reader

(part 1) (part 2) (part 3) (part 4)

Chapter summary: It has been a year and Miles can’t seem to move on from Gwen…how much longer can you take for always be in the dark? But little did you know someone is waiting in the dark for you..

Warning: Spoilers for the movie Across the Spider-verse, long chapter,heavy Angst

p/s: if some of you are confuse if this is Miles 1610 fic or Miles 42 its Miles 42 but the chapters are for build ups for extra pain hehe enjoy! also i try my best to make it gender neutral <3

You walk through the sidewalk making your way to Miles apartment with bluetooth headphones on both of your hand in your pockets of your hoodie to keep you warm from the chilling air, In your ears is blasting a music from the Weeknd-Call out my name.

It has been a year…for that whole year you have been there for Miles again and again and again… and every single time you fail to win Miles over. You been very vague of your feeling towards Miles but the boy seems to be too focus on someone else..Gwen Stacy. You have try to let him know that you’re there! Not her,whenever he is down you’re there to comfort him,not Gwen. Whenever he is in trouble you would cover for him, you become so selfless over him not wanting to see him get hurt..but who will care for you? Protect you? You just don’t know…

You walk over the steps leading up to the Morales front door and knock on it as you pull your headphones off. You hear the door unlock and open for you to see Mrs Morales “Hey mama Rio,is Miles here? He didn’t answer his phone”

“Really? Oh well he is in his room, come in dear its cold outside”The woman smiles as she close the door behind you  as you walk in, clearly you know where miles get such a warm smile from “Thanks Mama Rio”you smile at the woman taking your hoodie off.

“Oh dear I almost forgot that we be making a party up at the rooftop,its uh a celebration for Jeff becoming the next captain”You look at her with a big smile before let out a chuckle, you knew that Jeff is a good cop who always keeping the city safe “Congrats! Wow! Uh il make sure to come by the party, thanks for the invite Mama Rio”you walk towards Miles door “Anytime dear”the woman speaks before focus back to her Tv show.

You knock on the door to Miles room before a muffle come in speaks from inside the room,you open the door and lean on the door frame with a small smirk “Sup coco head”looking at Miles who is sitting at his desk with his headphones on.

Miles yelp when he turn around to see you by the door before he rip his headphones off his head turning towards you “Geez (N/n) I though you were my mom” Miles sigh before he slump back on his seat “Wait why are you here?”he tilt his head looking at you.

You sigh as you drop your head before push yourself up from the door frame walking towards Miles and pull out your phone showing him the miss calls and unread messages "You promise to hang out today at the park,remember? you told me over the phone yesterday for basketball?”you feel slightly annoyed now knowing he keeps forgetting his promises these past months but you still have sympathy over him,since he been over his head lately.

Miles sit up straigh before looking up at you,guilt drawn all over his face “I-Im sorry man I forgot it’s just ‘sigh’ a lot of things have been going on in my head lately”

“oh,what happened? don’t tell me you got in trouble again Miles”you said with a slight frown drawn on your face looking down at him. Miles head snap back to you shaking his head “noo nono”he laugh nervously as he try to convinve you,clearly he is in trouble.

“Miles..”you look at him squinting your eyes at him frow drawn on your eyebrows. Miles sigh defeated before he held his head in his hand on the table “I uhh..okay..the principal wants to see me and my parents tomorrow..”

You look at him in shock before you held your hand on your waist “But I though you aced the exam Miles,are the notes from me and Ganke not enough to cover it??” you ask him,still in disbelief. Since both of you are busy going in and out of the class for emergency moments,both of you mostly rely on notes to pass the exam,you mostly write your own notes but Miles always share Ganke’s notes with you.

Miles shake his head before leaning back on the chair “I don’t know (Y/n) clearly something is up and right now im in..shambles man. Nothing makes sense to me anymore,after wearing that mask everything is just on my shoulder”the boy is clearly burned out by all of his responsibilities..being a son,a student and a hero. He seems to think that everything and everyone relys on him while he can’t rely on anyone…but how wrong is he.

You shake your head slightly,moving near him as you lean on the chair looking down at him “Miles…youre not alone in this,I know that being a hero is such a big responsibility but…im here for you man”your eyes soften “You can rely on me anytime Miles…heck if you want I can do the patrol stuff for a week if you ask me to man” you let out a chuckle,this boy really have a soft spot on you.

Miles shake his head his face still frowning before he says “But you’re not her (Y/N), you’re...not Gwen”he look up at you.

You look at him…blink a few times letting his words sink in to you,you move yourself away from him,walking backwards before a soft chuckle escape your lips “are you for real Miles..? Gwen?”your brows frown mouth agape not believing what you just have heard..

Miles begin to talk again but you quickly cut him off “No man I heh…well she’s not here is she? Im here for you Miles,from the beginning to hear your problems a-and to cover your freaking ass everytime man..”your voice cracked as you try to talk out through the choking “im the one who is taking hits for you,the one who always have to sit there listening you calling for someone who is not here”you hiss out the word at him..tears building up making everything you see is blurry but you blink away the tears as much as you can..

“Youre not the only one who wears the mask Miles,but I put you above myself everytime so that I know you’re okay…but you’re here telling me that you want someone else to stand here….am I not enough for you Miles?”you point to yourself,your heart cracks at every sob that you try to surpress.

“(N/n) I..”Miles stand up trying to reach for your arm but you held out your hand stopping him. You rub your nose with your other hand letting out a sniff before your cracked voice speaks “No..no Miles..im just gonna go…tell your dad I said congrats”you said as you walk out of his room taking your hoodie that you put on the hanger walking out of the main door and close it.… you lean your back on the door as you finally let the tears running down your cheek…

To be continued.

(Woah what a chapter huh,part 3 soon..)

Tags:

@usernamepassowrd-blog @marimo331 @rinouko @chims-kookies

@rinisfruity14 @gasoline-eater @bath1lda @kiranishi @blep24

@dani111

[a-reader-and-a-writer-for-all]

Difference of Opinions (Part 1)

Fandom: Spider-Man, Spider-Verse, Across the Spider-Verse, Miguel O'Hara, f!Reader Summary: You went against the man you loved and helped Miles escape. Now you must face Miguel's wrath. Word Count: 1821 TW: Angst, Betrayal, Anger, Glitching, Left for Dead, Miguel has a temper Notes: I told myself I wasn't going to get sucked into writing for this movie, but this idea wouldn't stop nagging at my brain so here you go!

Prequel, Part 1, Part 2, Part 3

Series Masterlist

*Spoilers for Across the Spider-Verse*

As you watched Miles disappear in a flash of the Go Home machine, you couldn’t help but smile. For a moment, you had been afraid that he wasn’t going to make it. That despite everything you, Hobie, and Margo had done to help him, Miguel was going to stop him before he could escape. But he got to go home to try and save his father. He had a chance.

However, the smile slowly faded from your face as Miguel roared and ripped the arm off of the Go Home machine. You had been so focused on getting Miles off of Earth-928 that you hadn’t considered what happened afterwards. This was going to be bad.

The room had filled with other Spider-people who had all been involved in the chase for Miles and they all just stared at Miguel. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw Margo’s avatar disappear and you sighed in relief. At least she would escape Miguel’s fury. 

Right now, his focus had turned towards Gwen. As they began yelling back and forth at one another and Miguel dragged her into the Go Home machine, you started to back out of the room as inconspicuously as possible. While part of you wanted to run to Gwen’s aid, she was being sent back to her own universe. It was heartbreaking to watch– especially knowing what was going to happen to her father when she returned –however, she was getting off easy considering her part in getting Miles involved in the Spider-Society in the first place. Things could have been a lot worse for her. As they would probably be for you if you didn’t let Miguel cool down for a while before confronting him.

You had just about made it to the door when you heard a snarl behind you. “And where do you think you’re going?”

Red webs coiled around your arms and legs pinning them to your body and making you fall to the floor. Before you could try to squirm your way out, Miguel yanked hard and you flew backwards into him. He caught your chin with one large hand, his nails sharpening into claws and digging painfully into your skin as he held you off the ground. 

His red eyes flashed dangerously as he roared in your face, “Did you think I wouldn’t see you trying to slink away? You helped him escape! You! Of the hundreds of us in the Spider-Society, you were the last one I ever imagined turning against me.”

“I haven’t turned against you, Miguel. You know I love you too much to ever do that.” With your face still pinned in his grasp, you tried your best to keep your expression calm and non-confrontational. You knew how he got when he was like this and it was better to not get him even more agitated. However, your voice remained firm and unwavering. “But right now, you’re letting your past cloud your judgment and you’re not thinking clearly. I was just trying to–”

“He’s trying to alter a second canon event! We still haven’t dealt with what he did in Mumbattan and you just let him get away to do it again!” He bared his sharp teeth at you as he growled deep in his throat. In all your years together as friends or as lovers, you had never once feared Miguel would hurt you…. until this moment. All reason seemed to have left him and all you saw when you looked at his face was fury and pain. There was no trace of the man you loved before you.

Trying to keep the quiver out of your voice, you calmly said, “You said it yourself. Miles is an anomaly. He was never supposed to be one of us so who’s to say he has to uphold the canon events? From what I can tell, the Peter Parker of that world already lost his captain before he died. So maybe Miles has a chance none of us ever got. Maybe he doesn’t have to bear this loss like the rest of us. Maybe he can change his fate.”

“‘Maybe! Maybe! Maybe’! You risked the lives of an entire universe on maybe!” Miguel’s grip on your face tightened and you mewled slightly as his claws broke skin. “Whether or not he was supposed to be Spider-Man, he is now. And that means he must follow the canon. If he was different than the rest of us, he wouldn’t have already lost his uncle.”

“Or may– possibly becoming the Prowler is what got that Aaron Davis killed, not because he was Miles’s uncle.” You tried to reach up to stroke Miguel’s cheek, to calm some of his anger, but your hands were still pinned to your side by his webs. “Miguel, don’t do this. I’m begging you. Please, let Miles try. Trust that I know what I’m doing.”

Slowly, Miguel’s fury faded from his face until there was nothing left but pain. Pain that you knew you had caused. He lowered you to the floor and loosened his grip on your face though he didn’t release you. Then, as he stared deeply into your eyes, he spoke in an agonized whisper. “I did trust you. I would have gone to the ends of the multiverse and beyond for you. I gave you my heart even after I swore never to open myself up to anyone again but you turned your back on me the first chance you had.”

Tears sprung to your eyes and you squirmed against the webs, desperate to touch him. To hold him and make him feel that your love for him never wavered. “You know that’s not true. I’ve stood by your side from the very beginning. I’ve loved you and helped you build this Society so we could uphold the canon across hundreds of universes. But I just… I just couldn’t stand by this time and not at least give Miles a chance to try and save someone he loves. I’m sorry.”

For just a moment, you thought you saw a glimpse of compassion or love in his gaze but it was quickly replaced by bitter cold indifference. “I’m not.”

His claws slashed through his webbing, freeing your limbs. But before you could move, Miguel grabbed your arm, ripped your portal watch from your wrist, and hurled it against the wall where it shattered into pieces. Still holding your arm, he tossed you across the room. You crashed into the floor and slid another dozen feet or so on your side. And just as you slowed to a stop, you glitched as this unfamiliar universe attacked your cells. 

You felt like your body was simultaneously being compressed and stretched in a hundred directions at once. When the glitch ended, you let out a small whimper but the sound didn’t cull Miguel’s rage any. Even as you lay in a heap on the ground, he tossed a disk in your direction and suddenly a red transparent field surrounded you. 

Unable to believe he was really doing this to you, you called out to him but he ignored your plea. Instead, he turned his back on you and growled, “Jess, Ben, come with me. And somebody catch Spot.”

Jess glanced at his retreating form then back to where you were now confined. “Miguel. You can’t just leave her like this. Without a watch–”

“She made her bed, now she can die in it,” he snapped without turning around. He simply opened a portal and said, “Let’s go.”

Ben fell in behind him, but Jess hesitated, her hand reaching out towards you. But you shook your head. Miguel had judged you and once that happened, no one could change his mind. Jess had too much to lose by trying to help you and despite hating to see her leaving to track Miles down, you knew she was just as trapped now as you were. So, reluctantly, she turned and followed Miguel and Ben into the portal.

Now alone, you pulled your knees up to your chest and buried your face in them. You didn’t regret helping Miles, but you never imagined this would be the consequence. Miguel had a right to feel betrayed yet the fact he would go this far– that he was alright with you slowly glitching out of existence – broke your heart. Miguel had never been a saint but you never imagined he could do this. Not to you. How could his love sour so quickly that he was willing to let you die rather than try to understand why you did what you did? 

No. I won’t accept that.

Miguel was just not thinking clearly after everything that had happened today. Deep down, he still loved you. He had to. Just as you still loved him despite him leaving you to die in this cage. If you could only show him that you were right and Miles was different, then maybe Miguel could forgive you for going against him. And maybe there was still hope for the two of you. Or maybe he would still want you dead. 

Wow, Miguel was right and you did rely heavily on “maybe”.

However, there was just something about this situation that made you believe in those maybes. For years you had protected the multiverse by Miguel’s side and you had never questioned his decisions or a canon event. But something in your gut– in your spider-sense –was telling you this time was different. That Miles really could break from the canon without the same consequences as the others. But you would never know unless you found a way out of this cage!

Suddenly, you remembered how Miles managed to escape the same sort of prison an hour before. You might not have his Venom Blast powers but maybe Miguel presented you with your own way to escape. Spreading your arms and legs out as far as you could, you pressed yourself against the force field so you covered as much area as you possibly could. Then you waited.

About four minutes later, it happened. You glitched again but this time, you were ready for it. Using all the strength you could muster, you fought against the glitch and kept yourself pressed against the field. As your body began to flicker and change, so did the force field. When things finally corrected themselves and you were left moaning on the floor, you opened your eyes to see what was once your cage had been transformed into a pile of random junk from across the multiverse.  

Giving it a slight push, the pile collapsed and you walked out of the remains of your prison. You were free. Now, you just had to find a way off of Earth-928 and back into the multiverse to find Miles before Miguel did. And you thought you had an idea about where to start….

Thank you for reading, liking, commenting, and/or rebloging! I am planning a prequel to this fic showing how Miguel and Reader met and I may also do a sequel fic to this one. If you are interested, please let me know and I'll add you to the tag list! Thanks!

[weird-is-life]

if ur still taking requests, may i humbly ask for a very fluffy Steve Harrington x shy reader period imagine? maybe the reader is really in pain but is too shy to ask for help? and gets embarrassed but Steve is just an angel about it?

Hii, lovely🥰 thank you for this cute request, hope u like it! Warnings: mentions of food, period pain, pet names, fluff, (0.7k)

Steve isn't really thinking of what you might be doing this late Saturday night as he knocks on your door. He is so eager to see you.

You weren't supposed to be together today, because Steve had to work, and you said you didn't feel good. That you were ill.

Steve, the sweetheart he is, wanted to surprise you, and he also got you some stuff to make you feel better. Like a good soup that he absolutely thinks you're gonna love, some sweets, vitamins and so on.

He waits not so patiently for you to open the door, and for some reason it takes you a lot longer than it usually does.

You open the doors, and your eyes go wide, "Steve! Wh-What are you doing here?"

Steve just chuckles at you baffled expression," I wanted to surprise you, honey."

"Oh," you say, not particularly happy about that fact. Steve doesn't seem to notice it or maybe he just doesn't want to notice it.

"Exactly oh," he chuckles. Steve thinks you're going to open the door wider, so he can go inside, but you don't, "aren't you gonna let me in, sweetheart?"

"Stevie, I'm...I don't feel well," you shyly admit, still only peeking at him from behind the door. It looks like you are definitely not going to let him in.

"I know," he tells you softly," that's why I'm here. I came to take care of you. I brought a few movies as well, we can have a movie marathon. Before you say anything i want to state that I don't mind getting sick and....-"

"Steve," you interrupt his rambling. You look at him with pleading and shy eyes. "I'm not sick in-in that way. It's just....It's....I-"

You can't bring yourself to say it to him. Your shyness getting the best of you. You love Steve, but you are just too shy to admit that you're in pain, and that you'd love nothing more than for him to just hold you while you watch the movies.

"What is it?" Steve concerns. He pretty much ignores that you didn't want to open the wider, and comes inside, so he can instantly find out what's wrong.

"It's my....," you take a deep breath in, and tell him as your cheeks go red, "period pain."

Steve isn't expecting you to say that, but honestly he doesn't care that you are on your period. He only cares that you are in pain, and he wants to change that.

Steve gives you a bear hug," have you been in pain the whole day, sweetheart?"

"Yeah," you admit into his chest. You bury your whole face into his soft hoodie, enjoying the comfort and the warmth seeping from him.

"You could have called me earlier. I would have gladly come to take care of you, you know?" Steve kisses your temple.

"Didn't want to bother you," you murmur sheepishly. Cheeks even more red. You suddenly get a pretty bad period pain, wincing lightly.

Steve immediately pulls you away from his chest with sorry eyes," How about you go back to the couch while I heat up the soup I've brought you?"

"You've brought me soup?" You question.

"Of course, I have. I bet you haven't eaten much today, so go lay down, and I'll be right back." Steve gives you one more kiss on your cheek before he dissappears in your kitchen.

Steve comes back a few minutes later with the soup, and your forgotten heating pad you'd left in the kitchen. Because Steve came right at that moment as you were about to heat it back up.

"Here, sweetheart," he puts the soup on the coffee table," can you sit up for me?"

You sit up from your too comfy position on the couch, but your stomach rumbles at the sight of the soup. Steve carefully puts the heating pad over your lower tummy, and it's immediate relief.

"Thanks, Stevie," you smile brightly at him despite your pain.

Steve smiles back at you, and leans in to kiss your cheek again. You can't say that you aren't loving being doted on like this by him.

He always loves on you, but right now it's maybe just a tiny bit more than it is usually.

"Come on, eat your soup, and then you can have the cuddles and the movies I promised you." You eat as quickly as you can, eager to be in Steve's hands.

When you finally get the so much needed cuddle, the pain eases pretty much away just by Steve's gentle stroking over your side and tummy. And definitely from the constant pecks all over your face.

[yuujispinkhair]

thinking thoughts... Just, baby daddy Yuuji. I want to have this man's children so freaking bad Winter 😭😭😭 I can just imagine him rubbing your swollen feet after a long day of being his pretty little girlfriend, him kissing your tummy as good morning to feel his baby kick, grinning from ear to ear like an idiot bc they're so strong!! Just like him!!! He's such a proud daddy!!!!!

And I just know he'll be OBSESSED with his partner during the pregnancy. You wouldn't have to lift a single finger, he would carry you in those big, veiny arms wherever you wanted to, pressing tender kisses to your head and not even blinking at the weight. You crave something tasty to eat? Do not worry, Yuuji is already on it. The hormones are doing their thing and u burst into tears randomly? It's okay, Yuuji doesn't leave your side for a single moment, holding you close and kissing those pearl tears away. Too uncomfortable to fall asleep? My man is bending himself into a makeshift mattress so you can sleep on his chest, his heartbeat and tender hands caressing your back up and down and making you pass out in no time.

I can just imagine him during the birth too 🥺🥺 he would be so nervous but so strong for you, holding our hand steadily and kissing your sweaty forehead every once in a while. I can totally see him cracking some jokes here and there, making you feel some joy in the middle of the pain. The nurses would be over the moon for him, all starry eyed and whispering to each other about the hot sweet giant making his girlfriend laugh their baby out in the delivery room

And when the baby is finally here, he can't stop carrying them around. He would be so enamoured with you for giving him such a precious gift, tampering and spoiling you rotten those first tender months. You are finishing putting the baby to sleep after feeding them when Yuuji comes up to you from behind, holding you close to his front so you can feel all of it, pressing wet kisses to your neck and shoulders and whispering how he's ready for a second baby already 😭😭😭😭😭

Just 🥺🥺🥺 having yuuji's babies 🥺🥺🥺

YOU ARE MAKING ME SWOON SO MUCH, MY SWEET ANON 😭😭😭💗💗💗 And you are SO right!! Yuuji is such a good man, such a good husband/boyfriend, and such a good daddy!! He is so giving and so full of love. I know he would treat you so well and also be such a good dad!!

Yuuji is the type to immediately take responsibility and plan his whole life as the father of your kids the moment you tell him you might be pregnant. Doesn't matter whether you are already in a long-term relationship and a certain age or if you are both still in college and it happens as an accident. Yuuji is there for you!! He loves you, and he will love your baby!! He will provide for you and take care of you and be fully involved when it comes to raising the little one.

And god, yes, Yuuji is SUCH a proud daddy! The proud sparkle in his honey eyes when he carries his baby around! That big smile on his face when your little one falls asleep on his toned forearms. His happy laugh when he talks to your baby and makes silly faces.

And since he enjoys cooking a lot, you can be sure that Yuuji will be in the kitchen preparing healthy baby food and, later on, all kinds of kid-friendly finger food when your little one grows tired of the baby food.

Yuuji is an amazing daddy, but he also never forgets to take care of you too, and make you feel not just like a mom but also like a woman!!

He is obsessed with your body during the pregnancy and also with your after-baby body. He kisses every inch of you, moaning loudly for you and telling you how beautiful you are to him. Even if you are insecure about the change in your body, Yuuji will make you feel desired.

But Yuuji also takes care of you in other ways that don't involve sex. He brings you flowers and your favorite snacks to show you he appreciates you. He insists on having movie nights together when the baby is asleep because he knows how much you love those and how much you enjoy getting cuddled by him. He runs you bubble baths and gives you back rubs and tells you to take a break. He leaves you cute and encouraging messages on the fridge. He cooks for you and helps you so much with all the household chores.

He always makes sure you know you don't have to do this alone. You have him! Even when it comes to things only you can do, like breastfeeding, Yuuji will make you feel like you aren't alone. He cuddles you when you have to wake up in the middle of the night to feed your baby. He is behind you, hugging you and kissing your neck so sweetly. Letting you know you aren't alone in this.

The moment you are finished breastfeeding, Yuuji will take the baby from you and tell you to get back to sleep. "I got this, cutie." And Yuuji will spend the next hour walking around the house with his baby in his arms, singing softly all kinds of songs he usually does for karaoke nights until the little one finally falls asleep.

And then Yuuji is back in bed with you, smiling to himself when he sees your sleeping face, reaching out to wrap a strong muscular arm around your waist, making you feel loved even in your sleep.

He is so happy to have his little family 💗

[francis-writes]

FEYD-RAUTHA HARKONNEN NSFW ALPHABET

A/N: btw in these headcanons as well as my other posts about Dune i kinda mix movie and book versions of character

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

Feyd-Rautha isn't the most affectionate person, even if you're together. He just falls asleep, hugged into you. He may help you clean yourself and take care of the wounds if it was particularly rough session.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

It would be a hard decision but if he had to choose, Feyd would say that he most likes his hands. The way they use a knife, how they engulf your neck... he loves how many lives he took with his hand and you still kiss them and want them on your body.

When it comes to you, Feyd would probably choose all these spots that he uses to make you shiver and writhe. He knows you body well and remember where he needs to focus when he wants to give you pain or pleasure.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

In you, almost always. He sees it as a kind of marking his territory (there was that one fanfic where Harkonnens had black cum so basically everyone could notice stains and knew that they fucked and I absolutely love this headcanon), moreover he needs to secure his line and get an heir.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

It takes a bit of time together for Feyd to accept this (and even longer to admit it) but he enjoys being soft with you. He still loves violence and rough sex but he also likes cuddling with you and being petted.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

I suppose we all know the answer. Sex and violence are two things he mastered.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

He can't choose just one. Missionary is good for keeping eye contact and observing your reactions. Anything where he takes you from behind, gives him feeling of control and domination. Also there are a lots of moment when you're restrained in all possible positions.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

Feyd isn't a very humorous person in general and sex is no exception. Smile is the best you can get from him.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

I'll go here with his 2023 movie look and say that he's as bald and smooth down there, as everywhere else.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

Well, he's not the most romantic person. Even if he loves you, he doesn't know how to show it except for being more delicate and caring with you.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

He rather doesn't do it. When he's horny, he can just find you or one of his concubines.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

You can pry that headcanon from my cold dead hands but I think that he has a mommy kink. He didn't got much affection in his life, growing up in Harkonnen's family and in movie version he killed his mother sooo lots of issues here (in comics he was just kidnapped from parents as a small kid so not much better). Anyway, he wouldn't admit it but he loves when you hug him and stroke his head as he rests on your chest or belly. Praise him, tell him that you love him, you're proud of him and he will melt in your arms.

Also, of course, all kinds of BDSM. Feyd prefers to cause pain but he's sadomasochistic and lets you torture him as well. I won't list specific things he likes because it would be easier to list things he doesn't like.

And semi-public sex? He wants people to hear how he fucks you and to know that you're his and his only.

Perhaps breeding kink (but in Dune almost everybody has breeding kink; bene gesserit is as if somebody had breeding kink and decided to make this everyone's problem). As I mentioned, he sees this kinda as marking his territory and bounding you to him? And of course, he needs an heir (not that he actually likes children).

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

His bedroom is the best. There's a big bed and all of his toys and tools... but Feyd isn't picky. If mood strikes him, he may fuck you on any surface.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

Almost everything lol

But just to give a random example, he's always horny after fight, especially if he kills someone (same if you love violence as well and kill somebody).

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

Hmm he's rather possesive so it may be hard to convince him to a threesome. But at the other hand, he's a hedonist so maybe he would like it.

It's hard to say what he wouldn't do because as I say later, this man is down to try almost everything.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

It's not his favourite sexual thing to do, but he never refuses a blowjob. He prefers receiving, giving you oral is a rare occasion. He can do this, just usually his pleasure has priority.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

Usually fast and rough, Feyd only goes slow when he wants to tease you or to torture you.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

Feyd prefers longer sessions when he can focus on the act and perhaps torture you a little but quickies are not far away in the ranking. As I mentioned, he has a very high libido, so it often happens during the day that he's busy and don't have much time so he just pulls you to the nearest room. And if some servant walks in (very unlikely, considering all the noises alarming people what's happening behind the doors)? Then that's their problem. Feyd doesn't stop thrusting into you, as they leave the room in hurry.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

Feyd is that type of man who will try anything in his life at least once, so take care of yourself.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

In general, he has amazing stamina (years of training paid off) but it depends on situation, like, whether you have a standard fast fucking just to satisfy your lust, or you have a whole session with long foreplay. Amount of rounds varies but he can go for a few hours.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

Feyd has a whole collection, whatever he could get. Dildos, clamps, spreader bars, ropes, whips, knives, needles, wax candles, dick rings, chastity belts, butt plugs and a few things that look like torture devices. Anyway, both of you use it rather frequently.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

He loves to tease you. With his voice, his words, even his gestures seem sexual. He also likes to touch (or rather grope) you through the day. Fortunately, he has a high libido so it won't take long before he pulls you to the nearest free room.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

He isn't very loud, if he moans or gasps, he does it rather quietly. But he likes every once in awhile talk to you and tease you. Maybe it's nothing special but even "How does it feel, my pet? Don't be shy, look me in the eyes" said in his low voice can make you shiver.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

He is actually a switch. Top leaning but occasionally enjoys when you take control. And, no matter who's in charge, he's still a sadomasochist so even when he's dominating, he wants you to give him pain.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

Perfectly average but he knows how to use it.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

Probably you all expected this, but yeah. Very high. There's no day without sex and not just one round.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

Rather quickly. He has a good stamina but sex takes a lot of his energy, especially considering how long you do it and how much he engages in it.

[writingforstraykids]

hiya! i'm still pretty new to your blog but i really like your writing! english isn't my first language but i hope my request is still understandable ^^

m!reader (with they/them pronouns if possible 👉🏻👈🏻) is best friends with chan. chan praises the reader in some way and figures out that they have a praise kink so he just keeps praising them to make them flustered all the time (bonus points if he throws in the classic 'good boy')

oh and i wanted to ask if i could maybe be 🦖 anon?

thank you!

It's always been you

Pairing: Chan x m!reader with they/them pronouns (mention of Minsung)

Word Count: 4301

Summary: Chan and you have been best friends for what feels like forever. You long for more, not knowing that Chan feels the same. Minho and Jisung decide to lend you a hand the way Chan and you did for them.

Warnings/Tags: friends to lovers, fluff, slight angst, smut, teasing, praise kink, dry humping

A/N: I know we've talked a while ago about this request but I hope I did your wishes for it justice, my dear🖤

do not repost, translate, or plagiarize my works in any way here or on other platforms. ©️writingforstraykids 2024 -

You hum gently to yourself as you make your way back home, scrolling through your phone as you try to find a good song. A smile covers your lips as your best friend's voice rings through your ears and you can't help the warm feeling spreading through you. Chan invited you over for a movie night with the boys, and you couldn't wait to spend time with them…or him. Being around Chan made you feel things you never felt for anyone else ever before. Those soft brown eyes, beautiful smile, and warm hugs made you feel so loved. You know there's no chance he would ever love you back, but that didn't stop you from gazing after him. 

You reach their dorm, and Minho lets you in, pulling you into a short hug. “Hey, Min.”

“Hey,” he smiles and closes the door behind you. “Channie hyung will be there in a bit. He went out to grab some snacks with Ji,” he explains and pats your back, leading you inside. 

“Oh, okay,” you nod and glance around the living room, where they've already set everything up. “Can I still help with anything?”

“Nah, you're fine,” he tells you and gently shoves you toward the sofa. “Relax, okay? We got it.”

-

“Fuck, Ji, it's getting worse every time they're there,” Chan sighs and grabs some of your favorite cookies. 

“Worse?” Jisung frowns, and Chan nods weakly. 

“Yeah, they're so funny and adorable and so pretty,” he says and glances at his friend nervously. “I really want to be more than just friends.”

Jisung squints his eyes at him suspiciously. “Just sex or more?” he asks quietly. 

“Not just sex,” Chan shakes his head and awkwardly scratches his neck. “I wanna be there for them, make sure they're safe and loved.”

“Why don't you tell them?” he asks curiously. 

“I'm scared of ruining our friendship,” he admits. 

“You will, one way or the other, won't you?” he asks gently. “You'll regret it if you don't tell them, believe me. I could've saved myself a lot of pain if I told Minho hyung a lot earlier.” 

“Yeah, but…I told you Minho loves you. You had some clarity after that,” he sighs softly. 

“I can ask Y/nnie,” he shrugs, and Chan's eyes widen fearfully. “Then I'll tell you, and you can decide what to do with that information.”

“Yeah, okay,” he gives in after a moment. 

-

You look up as they return from the store and smile softly, spotting Chan and giving him a small wave. Chan smiles back, walks past you, and gently pats your head. “Hey, bestie.”

“Hey,” you smile gently, swallowing at the word that once brought you so much comfort but now is a simple reminder of what you didn't have. 

You see Minho greeting Jisung, pulling him into a hug, and gently rubbing his back. He asks him something you can't quite hear, but his eyes are so soft, his voice gentle, it makes your heartache. Minho giggles at Jisung’s answer and cups his face, kissing his forehead. You quickly look away, biting your lower lip. You still remember how happy you were when they got together, but over time it got hard to watch, wishing for something like this with Chan. “Y/nnie, can I talk to you for a second?” Jisung asks as he pulls back. “I need help with something.”

“You're okay?” Minho asks worriedly. 

“I'm okay,” he assures him softly and squeezes his hand. “Come on,” he waves you over. You get up, not noticing Chan's anxious glance as you leave the room. 

Minho glances at him suspiciously. “Oh…that?”

“Mhm,” Chan nods nervously and Minho flashes him an encouraging smile. 

“How could they not love you, huh?” he chuckles compassionately. “Relax, hyungie.”

-

Only a little later, you're back in the living room, trying not to look all too confused. There isn't much space left on the sofa, and Chan pulls you into his lap naturally. You sink back into him and bite your lower lip nervously. Why the hell did Jisung ask if you're in love? With Chan? Was it that obvious? 

You can barely focus on the movie playing and want nothing more but to leave and think this all through. It's over sooner than you thought, and you're all sitting in a circle on the carpet now. 

“Truth or dare anyone?” Seungmin asks, and you curse yourself quietly. Of course. 

“Not for me, I should get -” you start and see Chan's smile fading. 

“You're leaving already?” he asks worriedly, and you nod quickly.

“Oh, come on, Y/nnie,” Jeongin pouts at you. 

“You can't leave already,” Changing protests and places the cards into your circle. 

“Fine,” you give in weakly and sit down next to Chan, who lifts you into his lap rather quickly again. His arms wrap around your waist, and his chin rests on your shoulder. “Clingy,” you comment fondly. 

“Fuck off,” Chan gives back just as fondly. 

The game goes on, and luckily, you're getting easy tasks and questions that don't make you uncomfortable. Jisung is sleeping in Minho's lap by now as the latter plays with his hair, and Felix's head is resting on his shoulder. Seungmin and Innie keep on teasing each other, hoping for the most stupid questions for each other. Changbin is still reading the questions, and Hyunjin giggles every time he shows him beforehand. You're still comfortable in Chan's lap and giggle as Seungmin spins the bottle, and it points at the two of you. 

“That's pretty in the middle,” Changbin states and frowns softly. 

“I can go; I'll take truth,” Chan volunteers. Changbin glances down at the question before grinning. 

“Do you have a crush? If so, who?” he reads out loud, and Chan stiffens beneath you. 

“I do,” he nods, and your throat dries. 

“Who?” Hyunjin asks, pointing out the second part of the question. 

“Someone I know really well,” Chan says, and your heart drops. That could be everyone in this room, and looking at the others, you know it can't be you. There's no chance. You push yourself from his lap before you fully comprehend your thoughts, excusing yourself for the bathroom. Chan glances after you worriedly as you bump into the table on the way out and exchanges a worried look with Minho. 

“I got it,” Minho nods and gently plants a sleeping Jisung into Felix's lap. “You go on,” he tells the rest before making his way upstairs to the bathroom. Minho gently knocks at the door and fondly rolls his eyes as you don't answer. “Y/nnie, let me in,” he says and waits for another moment. “I'll go get Chan if you don't.” You quickly open the door and pull him inside, locking the door again. “Cozy,” he comments teasingly. 

“Why are you even here?” you sigh softly and sit down heavily at the edge of the bathtub. 

“Shouldn't I ask you that? This can't be more comfortable than Chan hyung’s lap,” he says and sits down next to you, shaking his head. “Definitely not.”

“Mhm, you should know, right?” you ask sarcastically, and Minho grins. 

“Oh, I do…I've seen…or felt…everything you dream about,” he chuckles and gently pats your thigh. “I'm with Ji. What's stopping you now, huh?”

“Don't be ridiculous,” you shake your head and sigh heavily. “There's no way on earth Chan would love me and - oh fuck, I sound just like you,” you groan. 

“You do,” he giggles. “And I remember you telling me to get myself together and finally realize how handsome I am.”

“Well, you are, you dumbass,” you roll your eyes at him. “That doesn't exactly apply to me.”

“I think…I know Chan thinks very differently about that,” he says and is quiet for a moment. “So do I, dumbass,” he says and gently smacks the back of your head. 

Minho's words hit you like a wave, washing away the stubborn layers of doubt that had clung to you all evening. Despite the sting of his playful smack, there's an undeniable warmth in his words, an affirmation that maybe, just maybe, Chan might feel the same way about you. 

"But, Min," you start, your voice trembling slightly from the mix of hope and uncertainty, "What if you're wrong? What if he doesn't... What if it's not me he's talking about?"

Minho raises an eyebrow and gives you a look that screams exasperation mixed with fondness. "Y/nnie, when have I ever steered you wrong? Listen, Chan's not as good at hiding his feelings as he thinks. The way he looks at you? I've seen it. It's more than just friendship. This isn’t my talk to have, though, you know?"

You're about to respond, but there's a knock on the bathroom door that makes you both flinch. "It's me," a voice says, one that sends butterflies rampaging through your stomach. Chan.

Minho winks at you and stands up. He walks past Chan with a knowing look as he exits the bathroom, leaving the door slightly ajar. You're frozen in place, your heart pounding so loudly you're sure Chan can hear it.

Chan steps inside, closes the door behind him, and leans against it. His eyes search yours, filled with a nervous energy that matches your own. "Y/nnie, are you okay? I noticed you left suddenly..."

Taking a deep breath, you nod slowly, trying to muster the courage that Minho seemed to think you had in abundance. "I'm okay, Chan. Just... a lot on my mind, I guess."

Chan moves closer, his concern evident. "Anything you want to talk about? You know you can tell me anything, right?"

The sincerity in his voice nearly breaks you. With a shaky exhale, you decide it's now or never. "Chan, I... I need to ask you something. Earlier, when you said you have a crush... was that-"

Chan's face changes then, but before you can interpret it, he lets out a breath he seems to have been holding. "Yes, it's you. It's always been you, Y/nnie. I was just too scared to say anything because I didn't want to ruin what we had."

The words you had feared and hoped to hear tumble into the small space between you, and for a moment, the world stops. Tears prick your eyes, not from sadness but from an overwhelming relief that floods through you.

"Chan, I... I feel the same," you confess, the weight of your unspoken feelings lifting off your shoulders. "I was so afraid you'd never see me that way."

Chan steps forward, closing the distance between you in an instant. His hands cup your face gently, and he smiles - a real, soft smile that you've dreamed of being meant for you. "How could I not? You're amazing, Y/nnie. I've just been an idiot about it."

And then he kisses you, a soft, sweet kiss that promises more. As you melt into him, the fears and doubts of the past fade away, replaced by the excitement of what comes next.

Outside the bathroom, the sounds of the ongoing game and the laughter of your friends continue, a reminder of the world waiting for you both. But for now, in this small, shared space, nothing matters more than the two of you finally bridging the gap between friendship and something much deeper.

When you finally pull away, Chan's grin is as bright as the stars you imagine are shining outside. "Come on," he says, taking your hand. "Let's go back.”

The two of you sit down again, and you lean back against him comfortably. Your eyes meet Minho’s, and you can’t help but beam at him. Minho smiles gently and winks at you, focusing back on the game. Chan gently intertwines your hands in front of your stomach and rests his head on your shoulder. “Tired?” you ask him quietly enough for only him to hear.

“Starting to be, yeah,” he hums quietly. “You wanna stay tonight?” he asks so sweetly there was no chance you’d deny him. 

“I would love to,” you nod.

The evening goes on, but the atmosphere around you is subtly different now. The other guys seem to pick up on the shift; quick, knowing glances are exchanged, and an occasional smirk is poorly disguised as a cough. As the evening slowly comes to a stop, the games gradually transform into yawns and stretching limbs. One by one, the room starts to empty as everyone heads to their room. Changbin claps Chan on the back as he passes by, whispering something that makes Chan chuckle and squeeze your hand tighter.

Once the room is empty, Chan shifts slightly, turning to face you. "So, what do you want to do?" he asks, his voice low and warm. "We could start another movie, just the two of us, or maybe just talk?"

"The talking sounds nice," you reply, smiling at him

Chan nods in agreement and stands, leading you to his room. You’ve been here so often before, but you never fail to feel at home here. He shuts the door behind you and sits on the edge of the bed, patting the space next to him.

You join him, feeling a blend of excitement and nervousness. "I'm really glad you're here," Chan begins, turning to you with a beautiful smile that makes your heart flutter. "I've wanted to talk like this for so long but didn't know how to start."

"Me too," you admit. "I always wondered what this would be like, talking to you like this, knowing we both feel the same way."

Chan reaches out, brushing a strand of hair from your face. "I've been so scared of messing things up," he confesses. "I didn't want to lose you by taking a step that might have been too much, too soon."

You nod, understanding his fears because they mirror your own. "But we didn't mess it up, did we? We're here now, and it feels right."

"It does," he agrees, his eyes lighting up with a mixture of relief and happiness. "It feels perfect."

"What do you think will happen with us?" you ask a small part of you needing reassurance that tonight's magic will extend beyond dawn.

Chan squeezes your hand, his gaze steady. "I think we're going to be great," he says. "We already know each other so well, and we care about each other. We just have to keep doing what we're doing."

"I love that," you whisper, leaning your head against his shoulder.

"I love you," Chan says softly, the words spoken so naturally, echoing through the quiet room.

"I love you too, Channie," you respond, turning to face him. Your eyes meet his in a look that feels like a promise. He smiles sweetly, dimples showing, and gives you another quick kiss.

Chan stands up and offers you a shirt to sleep in, his shy smile making you laugh. You change and slide under the covers beside him, his arm coming around to hold you close.

The comfort of his embrace and the steady beat of his heart soon draw you into slumber, the challenges of the day fading into the peace of the night.

Two weeks later

You’re at the kitchen table with Minho, whispering the details of Chan’s and your first kiss and talk to him. You haven’t really had time to before with Minho gone for a few days. Minho listens curiously, nodding along, and you can tell he’s happy for you. The rest slowly join you for breakfast, and then Chan comes back from his shower after his gym session. His curls are still damp, a bright smile covering his face as he sees you. He passes you, gently squeezing your shoulder. “Morning, pretty,” he says softly, and you can’t help but feel flustered. A quick kiss to your temple follows, and he’s gone again already, getting himself something to drink. 

Minho notices the blush settling on your cheeks and giggles. “That easily?” he asks, amused. 

You gently shove his shoulder. “Shut up,” you mutter. “I’m not used to it.”

“Mhm,” he hums, still giggling softly.

It gets worse as Chan slips into the chair next to you, flashing you a bright smile and casually resting his hand on your thigh. “You slept well, beautiful?” he asks, not noticing the blush on your cheeks deepening. 

What the hell? Why were his simple words causing such warmth to spread through your body? Why are you blushing so hard after a few kind words? His eyes meet yours, and your stomach tightens at the love in them. Fuck.

“Yeah, did you?” you ask shyly.

“Of course, you’ve always been amazing at cuddling,” he compliments you, and you subconsciously shift in your chair. 

You manage a small smile in response to Chan’s gaze, the affection evident in his eyes almost too much to process so early in the morning. He chuckles softly, his hand squeezing your thigh reassuringly, a simple gesture that somehow speeds up your fluttering heart.

“Sorry,” he whispers, leaning in so that only you can hear, “I didn’t mean to make you blush this much.” His voice is a blend of amusement and tenderness, sending a shiver down your spine. You can't help but feel a little overwhelmed by how natural it all seems to him, this newfound closeness between you.

“It’s okay,” you assure him. 

“Are you sure, pretty boy?” he asks and your lips part softly, eyes widening a little. 

“Channie,” you whisper softly, shaking your head. “Stop it.”

“Stop what?” he asks, a knowing smirk lacing his features. “I’m just saying what I see.”

Your teeth bury into your lower lip as you feel the earlier shyness shift into something much stronger. Chan was getting you all worked up over nothing, and you’re not even done with breakfast yet.

“Give them a break,” Minho leans over suddenly, rolling his eyes playfully at Chan. “You’re getting them all worked up at the breakfast table; behave,” he says quietly enough only for the pair of you to hear.

Chan’s eyes widen, lips parting in a silent ‘oh’ as he picks up on the effect his words have on you. He leans closer to you, his breath tickling your neck. “Didn’t know you had a thing for praise.”

“Me neither, now shut up,” you plead softly, shifting in your seat and pulling at your shirt to cover your lap. Chan’s low chuckle sends shivers down your spine, and you flinch as his hand moves up your thigh. You gaze at him nervously, but Chan doesn’t even glance in your direction, talking to Seungmin opposite him. By now, you can’t get up to escape the possibility of getting caught because you’re slowly growing hard.

Your breath hitches as you try to focus on anything but the warmth of Chan's hand, your body reacting despite the semi-public setting. It's a thrilling yet terrifying mix of emotions, the fear of being noticed wrestling with the pleasure of Chan's subtle touches.

"Hey, you okay?" Seungmin's voice cuts through your haze, and you snap your attention back to him, nodding quickly, too quickly.

"Yeah, just... thought I saw something outside," you stammer, hoping your voice doesn't betray the flush of heat crawling up your neck. Chan smirks slightly, his fingers pausing as if he's aware of your struggle to stay composed.

The rest of the breakfast passes with a sort of hushed intensity, your mind whirling with Chan's teasing and the palpable connection that seems to have everyone subtly glancing your way every so often. You're grateful when the meal finally ends, and there’s an opportunity to escape the intensity of the kitchen.

Chan stands and stretches, his shirt lifting slightly to reveal a sliver of his abdomen. You have to force your gaze away, feeling the heat in your cheeks intensify. "Wanna go upstairs?" he asks, his voice low, meant only for your ears. You pull at the hem of your shirt, nodding shyly and biting your lower lip in anticipation. Chan giggles and pulls you into a tight hug, whispering to you as some of the boys are still here. “Didn’t know you’d be able to hide it so well,” he tells you, hand running down your back. “Think you deserved yourself a reward, pretty boy?”

“Please,” you whisper, burying your flushed face in his shoulder. 

“If you’re good and keep quiet, I’ll help you out,” he whispers, and you tense in his arms, biting your lower lip hard. 

Your body reacts with a shiver at the promise in his words, the idea alone enough to draw a deep, yearning ache from within you. You nod against his shoulder, unable to speak, your heart pounding fiercely in your chest.

Chan leads you quietly upstairs, his hand gripping yours with a reassuring firmness. You pass a couple of the guys lounging in the living area, completely oblivious to the charged atmosphere between you two. Once inside his room, Chan locks the door with a soft click, the sound echoing slightly in the stillness.

"Sit down," he directs gently, pointing to the edge of his bed. You obey, watching him with wide eyes as he kneels down in front of you. His hands rest on your knees, his touch light but sending waves of anticipation through your body.

"How quiet do you think you can be?" Chan asks, his voice low and teasing, his breath warm against your skin as he leans closer.

"I'll be quiet," you promise, your voice barely above a whisper, trembling with the effort of keeping your composure.

Chan smiles, that knowing, mischievous grin that always sets your heart racing. He slowly moves his hands up your thighs, his fingers brushing the fabric of your sweatpants tantalizingly slow. The touch is light, almost teasing, but it’s enough to make you gasp softly.

"Shh," he hushes, his lips brushing against your ear, sending another shiver down your spine. "Remember, you need to be quiet."

You nod, biting your lip hard to stifle any further sounds. Chan’s hands continue their exploration, now slipping under your shirt to trace the lines of your stomach up towards your chest. His touch is feather-light, yet every nerve in your body screams for more contact, more pressure.

Without warning, he presses down more firmly, his palm flat against your chest as he pushes you gently back onto the bed. You go willingly, your body already on fire from his touch, your breathing heavy but controlled as you try to keep your promise.

Chan climbs onto the bed, straddling one of your thighs as he leans over you, his face just inches from yours. “Still doing okay?” he asks, his eyes searching yours for any sign of hesitation.

“More than okay,” you breathe out, the proximity of his body making it hard to think about anything but the feel of him against you.

Grinning, Chan shifts his weight, and you feel the firm pressure of his thigh between yours, exactly where you need him. He watches your face closely as he begins to rock gently, the friction sending sparks of pleasure coursing through you. Your hands find his hips, gripping him, guiding him into a rhythm that has you biting down on your lip to keep silent.

The room is filled with the soft sound of fabric moving against fabric and Chan's steady, controlled breathing. You keep your eyes locked on him, getting lost in the intensity of his gaze as he moves against you. Each motion is deliberate, calculated to drive you closer to the edge without tipping you over too soon.

Chan’s hands are on your hips now, his fingers pressing into your skin, his grip firm and possessive. He leans down to kiss you, slow and deep, his lips moving against yours in a dance that mirrors the movement of your bodies. You respond eagerly, the kiss muffled enough to keep your moans contained.

As the pressure builds, Chan’s movements become more urgent, his body pressing harder against yours. You feel a warmth spreading through you, a tingling sensation that starts deep within and radiates outwards. Your grip on him tightens, and Chan breaks the kiss to look at you, his eyes intense.

“Shit, Channie,” you whisper, almost feeling dizzy at the intensity of finally being this close to Chan. 

“Shh, be a good boy, yeah?” he asks softly, biting back a moan himself as he rocks his hips.

“Close,” you manage to whisper, and he nods, his movements becoming even more focused. You arch into him, your mouth opening in a silent cry of release as waves of pleasure wash over you. Chan holds you through it, his body a steady presence as you tremble beneath him. Chan buries his face in your chest with a soft, punched-out sound as his body shivers, stumbling over the edge. 

When you finally relax back onto the bed, Chan’s face is flushed with his own exertion, a satisfied smile playing on his lips. He kisses you softly, tenderly, a stark contrast to the urgency of moments before.

“Was that quiet enough for you?” you ask, a playful note in your voice despite your exhaustion.

“Perfect,” Chan confirms with a chuckle, his forehead resting against yours. “Absolutely perfect.” You both lie there for a moment, catching your breath, the only sound in the room now the quiet hum of the house around you. Then, with a gentle nudge, Chan encourages you to sit up. “Come on,” he says, his voice gentle. “Let’s clean up a bit, then we can go back down. They’ll wonder where we’ve vanished to.”

“Yeah, okay,” you giggle softly, smiling into the loving kiss he gives you before slipping out of bed. Yeah, you could get used to this and so much more.

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[thestitchywitchy]

Future Spouse: First Impressions Pt 1

Hello my dears! Here’s a little PAC I’ve been working on…. This is going to be a 2 part (possibly a third, 18+ post, depending on how well these do) series as this one became a lot longer than I intended it to lol. This one will be about your future spouse’s first impression of you. The next one will be your first impression of them. Please leave feedback 😁

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Here we go! Shake it out, take a breath, close your eyes, and choose one of my favorite movie couples that calls out most to you. This is a general reading, so take what resonates and leave what doesn’t. If you feel inclined to choose more than one group, please feel free to do so.

Pictures are from Pinterest, credit to the owners. Editing was done by me, Stitchy!

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Gomez & Morticia - Pile One

6 of cups reversed, Queen of Swords, Page of Pentacles

All right, pile one, welcome to your reading! You will strike your future spouse as a complex individual from the very first moment. You may have seemed a bit guarded and reserved, which made them immediately think “💡I need to see what’s past that guard”. Aw cute lol. Some of you have a femme fatale thing going on and some of you are incredibly private or reserved, so you give off this mysterious vibe to your FS. The energy is as if you were carrying a heavy emotional burden from your past experiences on your shoulder, which makes you seem hesitant to open up to someone new.

As you two start conversing, they notice that you may have an air of authority about you. You may even be a manger/boss. Could even own your business or attempting to at the point of meeting them. This is only for some of you, but I’m also seeing kids? So you may be a parent or work with kids often. Teenagers/middle school age, specifically. They will also notice that you are very clear and precise in the way you communicate, and you seemingly have a sharp mind and quick wit about you. You may talk with your hands a lot too. They can tell that you’re someone who values honesty and straightforwardness above all else, and you are not someone who would suffer fools gladly. Get it, boo! Show those suckers what you’re made of 😉 But there was also something very innocent and curious about you under the surface that they are going to be intrigued by. Despite your guarded nature and no-nonsense attitude…you still seemed eager to learn and grow. They like that you may be open to new experiences and perspectives. You may have even called them out playfully or wasn’t afraid to stand up to them when they said something out of pocket. They aren’t typically used to receiving that energy so you made them go a bit gaga (even turned on for some of you lol) with this display of power.

Im sensing that, for a lot of you at least, you guys may really gravitate towards each other when you first meet because it seems like they were able to get to know you better on a deeper level right off the bat. They see that your past experiences have indeed left a deep mark on you and that you may be struggling to move past them. You may even bring up an ex or family issues during your conversation? But They also see that you had the strength and resilience to face your pain head-on and work towards healing and growth. They have/had no doubt that you have the intelligence and determination to make progress. They were inspired by your willingness to learn and explore new ways of thinking. You inspire them to become a better version of themselves. They may be going through some personal issues of their own at the time and the way you tackle issues may differ from they way they would usually do it. But they prefer your outlook on life so they may get inspired to take a page out of your playbook.

By the end of your meeting, they were left with a deep respect for this complex and multifaceted individual standing before them. You may have had a guarded and stand offish first impression, but they could see that beneath the surface was a person with a strong will, an open mind, and the courage to face your past and move towards a brighter future….and they would do anything in their power to be apart of it. Aww I love that for you, pile one! I hope you enjoyed your reading.

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Adam & Barbara - Pile Two

4 of pentacles, Ace of swords reversed, 9 of cups

Hey pile two, thanks for joining! Upon first meeting, you left a deep impression on your future spouse. To them, you seem to have an air of wealth and luxury about you. You may be dressed in your finest clothes or rockin your most expensive jewelry. Lmaooo I just heard “they’re bangin!” Sooo they’re really going to like your body, pile 2! 😂 can't get enough of it, apparently! That night/day, you will just all around be dressed to the nines and that will catch your FS’s attention right away. They may have noticed you right away, but it’s going to take them a little time to approach you. So as they continue to examine you from afar, they could sense something underneath all of the pretty wrapping paper. They feel a sense of possessiveness emanating from you. Like you’re holding on too tightly to your material possessions. It’s like…though you’re dressed to kill, they catch on to your insecurities beneath the surface. They’re trying to get familiar with your poker tells, basically.

Oop. Ok….Your FS may think that you might be having an identity crisis. Not necessarily in a negative way (although it might be for some of you who chose this pile), but it is apparent to them. You may be the type of person that struggles with their decision-making abilities. You may even seem lost and unsure of yourself, even though you’re dressed confidently. Like you don’t really belong in that setting, but you’re trying to fake it until you make it for whatever reason. This lack of clarity may also hinder you from making better choices for yourself. What I’m getting is like a nightclub, bar, or busy restaurant setting (take what resonates). You may have a lot of suitors physically surrounding you before your FS gets to you, so they’re still watching you from afar. They may see someone flirting with you and you’re eating up the attention and they’re just thinking to themselves… “really? You’re impressed by *that*?” Lmao your future spouse cracks me up. They’re a cerebral person, that’s for sure. They take in their surroundings before doing anything.

To them, it seems as though you are trying to use your wealth or material possessions to fill a void within yourself. Your future spouse feels like you’re trying to find emotional fulfillment in all the wrong places. They may also think you may be hard to satisfy or please, but are still not entirely sure what you really want. They see that you are seeking happiness but are met with fleeting moments instead and may even have lost touch with your emotional well-being. But they’re thinking that you’re knock out gorgeous, so why are you so sad?

Overall, their first impression of you is that you are struggling to find true happiness and emotional fulfillment in your life. While you may have amassed great wealth, luxury, and success ( whatever that means to you), you still seem to be missing something important in your day to day. They may have a fleeting thought of “ could it be me that’s missing from this equation?” Aww cute 🥰 hope you enjoyed your reading, pile 2!

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Seymour & Audrey - Pile Three

4 of Pentacles, Queen of Cups, Knight of Pentacles reversed

Hello pile 3, ready for your reading? Your future spouse’s first impression of you would be one of complexity and depth. They would see in you someone who is highly guarded and may be struggling with a fear of financial insecurity. You may be going through some difficulty at the time of meeting your future spouse and you may wear your worry on your face. For some of you, they felt your energy before they laid eyes on you. You may have been in a whirlwind of panic or frustration, maybe even tripping over yourself a bit, and they picked up on it before you even entered the room. Fear not, they will think your dishevelment is rather adorable lol awww!

However, they would also sense a deep emotional intelligence and sensitivity in you, much like the Queen of Cups. They would think that you’re someone who is highly empathetic and in tune with your and other’s emotions, but you may also be very protective of your feelings and hesitant to fully open up to others. I see a lot of nervous chuckling happening when you’re around them. They may have approached you in a teasing manner and you reacted shyly and a bit embarrassed. That’s so adorable pile 3! But remember, you’re the prize…no need to be nervous 😉 oh, I’m getting that they really like your smile! They instantly see in you someone they can start a life/family with. There’s just something about you that tick off all their boxes.

Your FS will also feel that you may be resistant to change and may prefer to stick to a routine or maintain the status quo. They see you as the type of person who doesn’t want to step on any toes, even in detriment to yourself. They feel that you may be cautious when it comes to taking risks or trying new things, but this energy can also indicate a strong sense of dedication and a willingness to work hard and persevere. They see that you like things done a certain way so that’s how you’re going to do it.

Overall, their first impression of you would be that you’re a person with a complex and multi-layered personality. They would see someone who is both highly sensitive and guarded. They want to tear your walls down. Make you feel safe with them. Hmm…Your fear of financial security keeps coming up… like you fear financial instability, so you’ve married yourself to your work to never see your bank account dip lower than a certain amount. It may worry them a bit that you may not have room for a relationship (with them) in your life because of this. However, On the same note, they would also see someone who is dedicated and hard-working… Someone who has the potential to break through their blocks and achieve success and fulfillment in life. Your FS would be drawn to your emotional depth and dedication, and would be eager to help you navigate any challenges that may arise….they’re just hoping you’ll make a little bit of space for them in order to do that. Aw, congrats pile 3. That sounds sweet!!

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All rights reserved to @thestitchywitchy . Thank you for participating in this pick a card reading 😊 if you liked this reading and would like to dive in further, please DM me for a $7.77 extended reading 💞