#and i really feel like i need to check it out

[a-b-riddle]

Part 8

You had planned to spend Sunday morning nursing a hangover with Mere and Tabitha, but after last night’s events you had decided to catch up on organizing the shop while putting your phone on do not disturb.

You had turned your location services off in hopes that for a few hours the world would just leave you the fuck alone.

A few hours was all you were given before a tapping came on the front door of your shop around noon. Peering through the glass window, you spotted him.

He was holding a huge brown paper bag looking at little worse for wear since the last time he showed up. You debated on ignoring him. He had missed the early morning shower otherwise you really would have left him outside.

Bastard.

"John-" When you opened the door, he entered immediately. No doubt guessing you planned to slam the door immediately after telling him to fuck off.

He would have been right.

"Please," you say flatly before closing the door. "Do come in." After last night, after this week, the last thing you wanted to do was see anybody. Him, Johnny, Simon, Kyle, fucking Meredith or Tabitha. Why was it so hard for a person who had very few people in her life, all of which were on the skirts with her, to leave her alone for a single day?

"Well?" You asked when he said nothing. He cleared his throat, as if preparing himself for a long, drawn out speech.

Instead he handed you the bag, the smell hitting you. Warm and welcoming. Price was the only one out of the four who could cook a damn good meal, which made him extra picky when it came to eating out. “Wanted to check in.” He stuffed his hands in his pockets, not knowing what to do with them now. “Simon said you had a rough night.”

You scoffed at the understatement. "Yeah," you hated this. You didn't want to tell John about your shitty night with your even shittier friends. "It wasn't the best night out."

"So you know that bloke who got handsy or was he just some random prick?" Your mouth fell open in shock. You didn't expect Simon to be such a fucking gossip. And how fuckin' dare John for thinking he had any right to know who was grabbing your ass and your involvement to that person.

No. Fuck that.

"We're not doing this," you said putting the bag on an empty display table. Fuck. You need to go ahead and unbox that shipment in the back.

"What?" He asked, oblivious as to what he said that was wrong. You push heel of your hands into your eyes, trying to stop the headache that was threatening to form. "Some prick took a fell of ya' and I want to see if-"

"If what?" You cut in. "If I need some comfort at being utterly fucking humiliated at Simon going all caveman in front of everyone and dragging me outside like a child? Or do you want to finish want Simon start with almost killing him!"

"From what I heard, he didn't kill him," John's audacity to correct you as if Simon's restraint was remarkable baffled you. "There's something to be said about that."

"He held him by the neck in the air like a ragdoll. He choked him out in the middle of the pub."

"But," he held up a finger. "he didn't break his neck. He knew you'd be upset."

"You're not seriously defending him right now." You could feel your blood pressure rising. Your lid ready to blow like a fucking kettle.

"From what Simon said it didn't look like the attraction was mutual." That gave you pause. Simon told John it didn't look... mutual. Could Simon tell you were uncomfortable? Did he hear everything Percy said?

Where the fuck did Simon come from anyway?

why the fuck was he at the pub in the first place???

Your mouth hung open for several beats. Any longer and a bug could fly in. But fuck if it didn't feel like cold water had been dumped on you. Why and how did Simon think it wasn't mutual? Why did he care??? Why was he acting like he didn't?

"He-" You began, trying to think of what to ask only to simply screech out "What?" John held his hands up in surrender. Your kettle whistled. You were pissed. More pissed than John had ever seen you and it was still a miracle you hadn't hurled the take out at his head.

"All I'm saying is if he grabbed you without an invitation and Simon saw, the prick is lucky to be alive, much less still walking around with hands."

"Si-" you started. "He-" You clinched your fists so tightly your nails painfully cut into the palm of your hand. "UGH!" You stomped your foot. It was childish, but you didn't care. "I don't need him rescuing me goddamit! I don't need any of you pissing on my legs like a fucking dog and-" you didn't stop. You weren't sure how long you carried on verbally lashing John nor did you give a single flying fuck.

Fuck him. Fuck Simon. Fuck all of them. They didn't get to stalk you and relay information like gossiping fucking school girls. They didn't get to break your heart and believe that you would let them piece it back together. They didn't get to neglect you only to realize you knew your worth. Only giving a shit until you walked away.

You went on and on until your throat ached. You weren't sure what thoughts had left your lips. You weren't entirely sure all what you said. All you knew is that you didn't feel any better. The look on Price's fallen face didn't give you any relief. You took it out on him and you were still hurting.

"Why?" Your voice was hoarse and pleading. "Why won't you guys just fucking leave? You were barely staying in it when we were together? Why now?"

He took a tentative step forwarding. His hands started to reach out to touch your arms before falling back down at his side. He knew he had lost the right to touch you. To comfort you.

"I miss you, Dove." He confessed it as if it would somehow make it all better. "We miss you." You try not to let it phase you, but fuck you were made of flesh, not stone. No matter how angry furious disgusted absolutely devastated you were with everything that happened, with what they did and didn't do, you still, or at least had, loved them. That love didn't vanish over the span of a week. Lord know your broken heart hadn't. "We'll do better."

"It's not that simple." You shook your head, your palms covering your eyes as they began to prickle. You hoped the motion would come across as tired frustration, but John knew. It was your tell. You were close to crying. You always rubbed your face when you were upset.

"It is." He said, finally taking the chance to touch you. Even if it was just to hold your hands in his calloused ones. "We mucked things up, let us fix it. Give us at least the change to be better."

"How?" You asked. "Stop fucking yelling at me for a couple of months until something makes you blow your fucking lid and I'm left feeling like a little kid who's in trouble?" You were surprised not to see him flinch away, but the soft look in his eyes was enough to break your heart all over again. "Or Kyle actually showing up for dates? Johnny not treating me like a fuck buddy?"

"We haven't been good to you." He admits and you still don't feel better. Leaving them hasn't made you feel any better. Only angrier. Yelling at him didn't. Fucking Johnny and breaking his heart didn't. Maybe Mer had a point. Just not with Percy. "We all wanted you and slacked off in doing right by ya."

"So what?" You press. "You want to resume where we left off? I just take you all back and work through the fact of how shitty you all were and hope that you make it up to me?

"No," he shook his head. "Not like that."

"Then what?" You asked.

"I'm fighting for me and you. No one else." You didn't know what to say. The four of them had always been a part of the deal. All or nothing. I mean, the fact that you even entertained the idea of being with all of them was the reasoning that if one of them had went down on the field, three more were there to take care of you.

"If the others can get their own shit together great." He shrugged his shoulders. "If I can't and they can, that's fine too." He stared in your eyes and for a moment, you thought about the first time John apologized for getting angry. Not at you, just in front of you. How he had gotten on his knees and told you the last thing he wanted was for you to be afraid of him. To look at him the same way recruits looked at him. "But I think where we failed was all of us was expecting another one to pick up the slack."

That much was true. Where others failed, others thrived. Simon always stayed after sex, Johnny never raised his voice, John was insistent on going on dates, and Gaz was emotionally available... when he was around at least.

"I know I wasn't the man I needed to be. I wasn't the man you deserved. I took things out on you that weren't your fault. I spoke to you in a way that if any other man did, I would knock him right the fuck out." He shook his head before giving your hands a squeeze. "I'll do what I need to do to set things right between you and me. I'll put in the work to do whatever it takes to have you trust me again."

"It wasn't about not trusting you." You counter

"But it is now." He said. "You don't trust me to respect you; to show kindness, patience. And I know I have my own shit to sort out before even thinking about us being like we were. When things were good, I mean."

You don't know what to say, but you can't say he's right. You don't trust him. Not with your heart. Not anymore.

Moments of silence pass before John lets go of your hands and takes a quick survey of the boxes around you. Your background music of Van Morrison still playing softly from the speaker near your computer.

"You seem busy, so I'll let you get to it." He takes in a deep breath. You're expecting another spiel about how he promises to work on it. Just to give him a chance. You're actually worried you'll consider it. "I picked up your usual. Figured things haven't changed that much since we last went to our spot down by the river."

"Haven't been there in a minute."

"You wouldn't." He said. "Closed the place and moved shop. It's over by the park."

"The one with the asshole geese or the one where Johnny and I were flashed by that guy strung out?" That makes him laugh. You can't remember the last time John laughed. The way his eyes crinkled and his smile shifted his whole face into something entirely joyous.

You missed it.

"Asshole geese." He answered before turning and heading to the door. You didn't speak until the chime of the bell rang.

"What if the others don't?" You ask before he had the chance to close the door. "Get their shit together, I mean."

He turned, giving you that signature closed smile that makes him look like a quokka. You told him that once and he had to googling before arguing that he didn't look like the world's happiest rodent. "That's on them. I have my own work to do." His smile dropping into something softer. Something pleading and pitiful. "But, we still want this. We all still want this. Want you."

You shook your head. The threat of tears returning as you realized how wrong he was. Maybe he did. But not all of them. "Simon doesn't." you huffed, arms crossing over your chest. "He's made that much clear."

"That I don't believe." He shook his head. "Not for a minute."

"Believe it." You sucked in air through your nose as if trying to clear it. Price knew he had to leave. He knew he couldn't see you cry. He knew you wouldn't want him to even if he wanted to stay and make up for all the times he was the reasons behind your tears.

"I didn't do what I needed to and I'll do whatever it takes to get you back." He promises. "But if it came down to it... if you want to settle down and just chose one of us to have you, to keep you," he took in a deep breath. The next words like a knife twisting in his chest. "I wouldn't truly love you if I didn't tell you that Simon is the only one of us who deserves you."

"Why?" You knew in that moment Simon hadn't told John about that night. About his cruel words and your realization that he was right. There was never a true happily ever after with them.

"Because he's the only one willing to hide in the shadows and let you live your life," his smile now gone completely. "I'm sorry that I'm too selfish to do that."

#simon ghost riley #call of duty #captain john price #kyle gaz garrick #john soap mactavish #angst #angst with a happy ending #grovel

[nereidprinc3ss]

andromeda | (dybmn? bonus)

a bonus vignette from spencer's POV. we find out how he really feels about reader. takes place the day before the argument at the bar.

note: this is not part six! takes place between parts four and five, five being the most recent part. read part five here

18+ warnings/tags: fem!reader, semi-graphic descriptions of sexual fantasies, some angst, you're not actually present, mention of alcohol, very vague discussions of murdery stuff bc he's supposed to be working, sassy spencer makes an appearance a/n: for all my angels who said they wanted a snippet of spencer's POV! i'm sorry if i'm overdoing it with this story or clogging the spencer tags, i'm just having a lot of fun! i hope you enjoy or that this may be clears some things up for you, pls lmk your thoughts:) ily!!!

Spencer is incessantly drumming the particle board table underneath his fingers.

The polymer veneer is one of his least favorite textures—he hates the grain of it and if he were to accidentally scratch the table with his nails he knows it would make the hair on the back of his neck stand up. 

But of all the things he’s worried about, that ranks very low on the list. 

He’s got a lot of mental tabs open all the time—and the tabs, he can deal with. It’s when he starts trying to operate with multiple windows that he begins to struggle. His brain, while it is a very fine tuned sort of computer, only has one monitor. Unfortunately, no human (except for the ones who’ve had their brain hemispheres surgically split) is immune to the inevitable pitfalls of multitasking. By dividing his mental energy between you and his job, he’s really fucking up his job. But he also thinks he really fucked up with you on that phone call the other night and for being as logical as he is he can’t seem to make that feel unimportant—even though he’s disgusted with himself for it because there are literally people dying. 

Someone knocks on the open conference room door—he looks up, skimming his lips over his fist. 

“What’s up?” he says too quickly upon seeing Emily’s mildly concerned face peering in on him. 

Her mouth bridges into a sort of nonchalant frown and her brows kick up. 

“Just… checking in. Haven’t heard from you all morning.”

“Yeah, the, uh—the geo-profile. I’m still… I’m still working it out.”

It’s not like he’s ever been phenomenal with his syntax in a social sense, but Spencer is certainly aware he’s doing even worse than usual right now. 

“Okay. Uh… is there anything in particular stumping you, or…?”

“Nope. Just not enough information. But I’m—I’m going to keep trying.”

“Alright. Got your phone handy?”

It’s an odd question—of course he has his phone handy. He’s been doing this job longer than Emily has. How else would he communicate with the rest of the team? He bristles. 

“Yeah. Why wouldn’t I?”

Emily shakes her head. She’s always been particularly good at reading his moods.

“You’re not under attack, Reid. I was just asking.”

Just as he’s about to say, why would you assume I’m not prepared for my job, he manages to swerve away and stifle the words with his fist. Instead he looks back down at his copy of the map and nods. In reality, he truly isn’t prepared for his job today. The reason he has his phone so close, fully charged and at top volume is because he’s worried he’ll miss a call from you. 

Emily says something else, and he hums in response, and then she’s gone. 

He shouldn’t be reading into your reticence this much. It’s not like you just sit by the phone all day, eagerly awaiting a call or text from him (like he does you). You have a life. You’re busy. And even if you are intentionally dodging his texts, he can’t entirely fault you for it. Spencer knows he’s clingy. He knows he’s overbearing. It’s part of why he panicked the other night and told you the whole humiliating story about Elle. Because he can’t ever just be cool and he felt the need to explain himself. 

But the problem was, and is, that he doesn’t know how much longer he can go without saying those three words that fucked him over all those years ago.

So he’d danced around them. Applied them to someone else to try and avoid outright professing his all-consuming love for you over the phone. However you feel, Spencer has to assume he feels more. Spencer always has to assume he feels more because he usually does and it’s gotten him into trouble before. And now he’s pretty sure he was exactly right, as often is the case, because you didn’t tell him he was mistaken and you’d clammed up and you haven’t talked to him since and he’s not supposed to be reading into it this much. 

Three victims killed and dumped within a 6 mile radius of the first victim plus one victim killed and dumped 23.8 miles away. That doesn’t make any fucking sense. Fuck this guy. 

Spencer decides the problem is that he needs more caffeine. 

Or possibly, if he were a different kind of man—copious amounts of alcohol. 

So he stows his phone in a pocket and asks the first person he sees where the coffee machine is. 

“Looks like you found it earlier,” the woman says, glancing pointedly down at his mostly empty mug. A playful smirk tugs at pinkish-brownish lips. She’s pretty, he realizes distantly. But he registers it the same way he’d take note of the model of a car, or the species of a bird, or the kind of shoes someone is wearing. It doesn’t actually interest him. It’s just part of processing his environment. “I can show you to it?”

He doesn’t have the heart or energy to explain that someone else brought him his cup earlier and he’s not flirting with her. 

“If you could just point me in the right direction…?”

She laughs, short and dry, before she’s pointing down a hall. 

“Kitchenette down there and to the left.”

“Thanks,” he mutters, already walking away without sparing her a second glance. 

She’s the kind of woman he would have paid a lot more attention to before you came along. Not that he’d ever sleep with someone on the job (not since he was 25, anyway), but if he’d met her under any other circumstances he probably would have cared more about the way her pupils dilated and her eyes had widened slightly and she’d adjusted her posture and all the other small things people do when they’re attracted to someone else. 30 year old Spencer might have slept with her. 27 year old Spencer definitely would have slept with her. Current Spencer obsessively pines for a woman who is already his girlfriend and whom he has yet to sleep with at all far too much to think about other women like that. 

But god, does he think about you like that. 

His feet carry him down the dim, carpeted hallway but really it took barely a nudge and he’s thinking about you like that. At work. As he’s pouring himself coffee. 

Spencer is confident in the fact that if anyone were to look at him right now, they’d never guess he’s running clips of you in his mind like a dirty supercut. Because he’s just pouring coffee. That’s one good thing about having all those tabs open all the time. He can toggle between them quickly. He has enough going on in the background that people look at him and all they can tell is that he’s thinking hard about lots of things. Some of them just happen to be the way you look when you’re naked on his bed, skin shining and glazed eyes sleepy, parted lips higher in color than usual and catching your breath. Some of them happen to be your hair brushing his stomach before he gathers it back for you. Some of them happen to be the way your thighs feel on either side of his face, or how you stretch around his fingers, or how you might feel when you stretch around his—

He hisses as hot coffee overflows from the mug and burns his hand. 

Maybe he’s not as calm and collected as he thought. 

But on top of all the other things he’s dealing with, having been so close to actually sleeping with you the other night is really fucking with his head. Even if he tells himself he wouldn't have done it, he knows himself better than that. He's too familiar with the effect you have on his judgement.

“Found it okay?” 

Spencer looks down, surprised to see the woman from earlier sitting at her desk and watching him as he quickly passes by on his way back to the conference room. Her legs are crossed. She’s wearing a pencil skirt and a flouncy sort of blouse which seems impractical for working in an FBI field office. Maybe she notices his eye catching on her figure and misguidedly swivels her chair to give him a better look. But all he’s noticing is that it doesn’t look like yours. Now he’s picturing the curve of your hip dripping in silk after that first night at Rossi’s. How your waist and your stomach feel when he slides his hands over you. This woman—she might as well not even be here for all he’s actually seeing her. 

“Yeah. Thanks again.”

Then he’s gone. Very briefly he acknowledges that he should feel sorry for so obviously brushing her off, but he doesn’t care even close to enough. He sets the coffee down on the table and rounds to the board where one of several maps is taped. On autopilot he draws lines between dump sites because one of the background tabs had deduced, while he was busy watching you like porn, that the distance between dump sites form the beginnings of the constellation Orion with some mathematical precision that’s too exacting to be coincidental. Orion’s Belt plus the most recent victim. Betelgeuse. 

There are ten formally named stars that make up Orion. He marks all of them, but circles the transposed coordinates of Bellatrix, Saiph, Rigel and Meissa as the next most likely dump sites. Most probably it will be Orion’s head. They’re all in wooded areas. He calls Garcia. Garcia will call Emily, wherever she is. If the unsub sticks to pattern, which they always do, they have until midnight. It’s trite, really. Predictable, like people always are. Far too quickly he drinks half the cup of scalding coffee and retraces his steps through the office to find the bathroom. 

It’s empty. The fluorescent lights hum. Spencer washes his hands with cold water and presses still wet fingers to his eyes. You’re waiting for him behind the black of his lids.

At first you would whine, and he would kiss you and you’d moan into his mouth and say his name when he opened you up as far as you would go. The air would be thick and warm with sex and vanilla perfume. Afterwards he’d take care of you and buy new sheets for his bed in your favorite color even if they didn’t match the walls and there would be nothing you’d want for that he couldn’t give to you ever again. 

But. 

That’s all contingent. 

No matter how often he fantasizes about it, no matter in how much detail, and regardless of how often those details change wildly, one thing always stays the same. 

The shape of your lips, swollen from kissing, bending around five or six vowels and only two consonants (it seems odd that there are only two consonants in I love you), sometimes before you start, sometimes in the middle or right at the peak—but always there, always moving in slow motion—and always silent.

In real life, they’d be aloud. It’s why his fantasies aren’t good enough. It’s why he can’t stop fantasizing about it. That’s the only part that really matters to him. The rest varies. 

Not because having sex with you doesn’t matter—it matters so much he almost shatters his molars whenever he starts picturing it around other people. But because Spencer can’t have sex with you until you love him. 

And he worries that you can’t love him until you have sex with him. 

The last time he thought that about a person, it didn’t turn out well.

Maybe there is some magic number. Some amount of times you need to have sex with someone before they’ll love you back. 

If there is, he knows for a fact it’s more than 32.

And he also knows, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that he cannot have loveless sex with you thirty three times while he waits to find out. 

Not again. 

But he's going to hold out as long as he possibly can until you say it because he so badly wants you to love him back. He'll let the weight of every ignored text, every reminder that you don't feel that way about him, hang from his shoulders until he collapses. And then he'll probably try to get back up.

Recycled paper towels scratch against his skin. He dries his face and hands and throws them crumpled into the trash can. 

Outside the restroom, he pulls out his phone. For safety reasons and paranoia disguised as professionalism, you’re not his lock screen. It’s a photo of the Andromeda Galaxy. Whatever distance lies between you and Spencer, it could always be greater. No matter where you are in the world, you will always be the same 2.537 million light years away from Andromeda that he is. 

It makes Orion feel much closer. You, too. 

He sends you a text—the third message in a row. 

The distance between blue bubbles feels like light years. 

I’ll be home tomorrow. I miss you. 

#spencer reid #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid fic #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x self insert #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid smut #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid angst #dr spencer reid #criminal minds #criminal minds fic #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds imagine

[pathologicalreid]

heyyy!!! I just wanted to say I really love your work and this is my first time sending a request so sorry if it’s not very specific 😭💕

If you’re still doing requests, I was wondering if you could do a fem reader x Spencer Reid where it’s similar to your cryptic pregnancy one, except Spencer is at home with her when she’s in labour without realising, and she’s just in a lot of pain and it all of a sudden gets worse and she’s just in the bathroom shouting for Spencer, he comes in and eventually works out what’s going on, readers sort of in denial? Maybe the ambulance doesn’t get there in time so Spencer has to help her give birth? Lots of fluff and hurt/comfort :)

Also completely fine if your not comfortable doing it, but again really love your work and hope you have a great day 💕 :)

three's a family | S.R.

who? spencer reid x fem!reader category: fluff content warnings: cryptic pregnancy, traumatic birth, precipitous labor, hospitals, medical inaccuracy (its just me and google against the world), takes place after 9x7 "gatekeeper", surgery, near death experiences, periods, home birth word count: 3.16k a/n: anon i'll be so honest with u i wasn't sure if i was gonna write this but then i learned what precipitous labor was and i was like "i would not wish this on my worst enemy... i'm going to force it on y/n" BUT please keep in mind that there is a .000012 probability of this happening to you (i did the math) this is the wildest thing ive written to date i think

“I’m going to try a bath,” you murmured over to Spencer, wincing as you dragged yourself out of bed, walking at a turtle’s pace to the bathroom, hoping the warm water would soothe the cramps away.

Your period came and went as it pleased; it was just your luck that it decided to give you debilitating cramps on your one day off. Padding on the tile floor behind you, Spencer leaned against the doorframe to the bathroom, “I could run to the store and get a new heating pad.”

Sticking your hand under the tap to check the temperature, you plugged the drain once you found it to be satisfactory. You shook your head, “No, it’s fine.” Your original heating pad must’ve gotten lost somewhere in the depths of your storage closet, but you didn’t have the patience to look for it. You could manage just fine without it.

“Will you let me know if you need anything?” He asked, leaning forward to press a comforting kiss to your forehead.

Nodding, you hooked your thumbs in the waistband of your pajama pants and pulled them down, watching as Spencer pointedly flicked the bathroom fan on – something you often forgot to do.

You lasted about thirty minutes in the bath, not only was the water beginning to grow lukewarm, but if anything, your cramps were getting worse while submerged in the water. Grunting, you reached over and tugged the plug from the drain, watching as the water drained, you managed to pull yourself to a squat before you felt stuck.

Aunt Flo really had it out for you this month.

Burying your face in your hands you accepted defeat and called out for Spencer, reaching up and trying to stand again, but only succeeding in knocking over several shampoo bottles. “Spence!” You tried again, white-knuckling the edge of the bathtub as you bowed your head. A creeping feeling that this wasn’t your period was beginning to rise.

You listened as your husband made his way up the stairs, turning the corner into your room, and opening the door to the ensuite. Moving quickly, Spencer dropped to a crouch in front of you, cupping your pained face in his hands, “I don’t think this is your period, angel.”

Clamping your lips together to prevent yourself from crying out, you simply nodded in response. How awful was it that you were going to die, naked, in your bathtub?

Spencer wiped tears away from under your eyes – you hadn’t even realized you started crying. “What does it feel like, darling? What else could it be?” He asked, voice urgent but gentle as he tried to stop you from panicking.

As you shook your head, you couldn’t focus on anything else besides your breathing as another pain rose up through you. “It’s like a cramp, but with more pressure,” you said, depending on the bathtub and Spencer to keep you upright as your legs shook beneath you. “Like something’s pushing on me, kind of like I have to shit.”

Reaching behind him, Spencer dug through one of the drawers in the bathroom vanity before retrieving the handheld mirror that you used when you cut his hair. Before you could ask what he was doing, he placed the mirror at the bottom of the tub, just beneath you. “I think you’re in labor,” he announced, breaking the news to you.

“There’s no– fuck,” your voice broke off as you dropped your head onto Spencer’s shoulder, breathing through what was apparently a contraction. “I’m not pregnant,” you insisted as your symptoms started to make sense. You had been in labor all morning.

Nodding to himself, Spencer quickly kissed your cheek before standing up and making sure you were stable before stepping to the side.

You frowned as you looked up at him, “Where are you going?”

He didn’t go far, opening the linen closet and piling towels into his arms, “I’m getting towels to put in the tub beneath you, and then I’m going to call an ambulance.”

“You want me to give birth in our bathtub?” You asked, furrowing your brows quizzically before letting out a low whine as another contraction hit.

Stopping what he was doing, Spencer dropped down to you, running the flat of his palm up and down your back as he gently reminded you to breathe. “Did you want to change positions?”

Immediately, you shook your head. You already had an insurmountable task ahead of you and you saw no reason to add to that task by trying to move. “This is fine. Squatting is good, right?”

Nodding assuredly, Spencer smoothed your hair away from your face, “Gravity can help the baby descend the birth canal, and some people even say that the position can increase the pelvic diameter.”

While you were currently less concerned with the diameter of your pelvis and more concerned with feeling like your body was being split open, you continued going through the motions as he called for an ambulance, trying to explain the situation to the dispatcher.

“Have you been timing your contractions?” Spencer asked, tilting his head at you curiously as the dispatcher spoke on the phone.

Releasing a groan, you gripped the ledge of the tub, “I didn’t know they were contractions!”

Relaying that information over the phone, Spencer dropped to his knees in front of you, “Okay, I’ll do it. I’ll take care of it.” He continued to reassure you, taking one look at your desperate expression before ending the call with the dispatcher.

He understood that you were vulnerable right now, and you didn’t want that broadcasted to a stranger on the phone. If you weren’t so preoccupied with remembering to breathe, you’d be more grateful. After a contraction ebbed away, Spencer stood up.

“I have to go unlock the door for the paramedics,” he told you, keeping a wary eye on you. “I’ll be right back,” he comforted you as he took one last look at you before tearing out of the bathroom.

In record speed, he returned to the bathroom as promised, “It’s bad,” you cried, the pressure on your pelvis becoming insufferable.

Crouching in front of you, Spencer studied your face before he spoke carefully, “I have to check your cervix.”

Despite his carefully chosen words, your lips still parted in shock, “You have to what?”

“I’ll use my hand to measure how dilated you are, and then… we’ll go from there,” he told you, nodding almost imperceptibly. At this point, you weren’t sure who he was trying to reassure – you or him. “Do you trust me?”

“Yes,” you answered instantly, “indefinitely.”

You bit down on your lip as you let Spencer check you, understanding entirely why people choose to get epidurals – this was horribly uncomfortable. “On the next contraction, you need to push, okay?”

For just a moment, your breathing faltered as your scared eyes met his, “Spence, wait,” you pleaded.

Smoothing your hair back, your husband did everything he could to comfort you, “What is it, love?” He asked, his voice soft.

“I’m scared,” you confessed, voice cracking ever so slightly as tears flooded your lash line.

He leaned forward to gently kiss your lips before pulling away to press his forehead to yours, "I've got you. You're going to be fine. You're both going to be fine."

You could see his carotid pounding, and somehow the fact that he was secretly as scared as you was more comforting than the words that came from his mouth. As you pushed, you focused on everything that Spencer was saying instead of the pain. Don’t push for more than eight seconds. Remember to breathe. Your body will know what to do. I love you. I love you. I love you.

By the time Spencer was saying something about the head, your hearing had gone muffled. “You’re doing so well, baby,” you made out his voice and nodded dazedly. “You’re wonderful. I’m so proud of you – just a little more,” he cajoled.

Taking a moment to breathe, your ears and eyes focused as shaky breaths filled your lungs.

“I’m sorry I can’t be more helpful,” he murmured, dropping a kiss on your bare shoulder as he comforted you, continuing to keep you upright.

You shook your head, sniffling as your eyes screwed shut, “You’re perfect. Don’t stop. Keep talking,” you begged, needing something to focus on other than the pain.

“There’s about a point zero four percent chance of you getting pregnant and not finding out until you’re in labor,” he told you, hoping that the information would help you wrap your head around what was happening to you. “One to three in one hundred people have a precipitous labor,” he continued to speak as you pushed, and you wondered what the odds of you squeezing his hand so hard that you did damage were.

Against your better judgment, you looked down to check your progress, “Holy fuck,” you said breathlessly. You weren’t entirely clueless, you knew that once you got past the shoulders the remaining pushes would be easier. You also found yourself grateful that Spencer knew what he was doing – this was, after all, the second baby he had delivered.

You bore down, determined to get the baby out while Spencer untangled your hands, bringing his own down to catch the baby. Out of breath, you panted heavily as you started to feel lightheaded. “Done,” Spencer said quickly, “it’s done. I have him.”

Carefully, Spencer held the baby along the length of his forearm, rubbing the tiny newborn’s back. “Come on, come on, come on,” he muttered under his breath, and it dawned on you that the baby wasn’t crying.

At the realization, your legs finally gave out from beneath you, watching with wide eyes as Spencer tried to clear your son’s lungs. White hot tears streamed down your face as you whispered, “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry.” You took a gasping breath as you silently pleaded for a cry, “I didn’t know,” you sobbed, guilt building a pit in your stomach.

With bleary eyes, you looked on as the baby finally spluttered and let out a wail. “There you go,” Spencer cooed softly, his own voice stiff with emotion as he cradled the baby and handed him off to you.

You were still sobbing as you held the baby to your chest, “I’m so sorry,” you continued to babble, watching as Spencer briefly disappeared into the bedroom before returning with a blanket and wrapping it around the both of you. While holding the baby, your vision started to blur around the edges.

Watching you intently, Spencer cupped your face in his hands, “I love you.”

Nodding, your face crumpled before you responded, “I love you too.”

When the paramedics announced themselves, Spencer called out for them, not wanting to leave your side. The two of you focused your attention on the wriggling baby in your arms.

He was premature – too little to stay with you in the recovery room. The NICU doctor had estimated that he was born at approximately 32 weeks, meaning he’d likely need to spend a few weeks in intensive care. “I want to see him,” you said insistently, looking over as Spencer as he fussed over you.

“You just had abdominal surgery,” Spencer responded simply, as if that was meant to clarify everything for you. He continued fluffing your pillow, which wasn’t entirely productive considering you were lying on the pillow.

As it turned out, you had experienced what was called a precipitous birth, or a rapid birth. It tended to be dangerous, and the fact that you did it in your bathtub only heightened that danger. You reached your arm out for Spencer, “c’mere,” you muttered, trying to get him to stop fretting. “Did you listen to anything that the doctor just said?”

Spencer nodded in understanding, “Lots of rest, no physical exertion, IV medication for now-“

“Did you hear the part where he said I was going to be okay?” You asked, raising your eyebrows at him curiously, you watched as he took your hand in his and sat on the edge of your bed. “I’m going to be fine,” your voice was determined, you had a few small incisions on your abdomen from the surgery to repair a tear in your uterus. “Thank you for looking after me,” you whispered.

Your husband gently smoothed your hair back from your face, “I should’ve noticed it sooner.”

Using all of your strength, you squeezed his hand comfortingly, “You were incredible,” you assured him. “If it weren’t for you, neither of us would’ve made it.”

He shook his head, “Don’t say that.”

Raising your eyebrows, you cocked your head to the side, “It’s true. I couldn’t have done it on my own, I’m so, so thankful for you, my love.” 

You had passed out in the ambulance as a direct result of blood loss, so you were brought to a trauma bay as soon as you made it to the hospital. Once they were in the ER, the baby was taken to the NICU, leaving Spencer with a lot of decisions to make.

When you woke up in the recovery room, the first thing you did was ask about the baby.

Spencer, of course, had been up to see him. The nurses claimed he seemed like a fighter, and Spencer knew the survival odds of a 32-weeker, so he turned his attention to you. Every other option had already failed, so the next option was a laparoscopy. Your husband admitted that while it seemed extreme, the very last choice was a hysterectomy, and he didn’t want to make that decision.

Furrowing your brows, “When can I see the baby?” You asked, not entirely sure how to refer to the infant just yet. It wasn’t until then that you realized you needed to name him at some point – your son.

“Once your blood pressure goes up,” Spencer told you with an authoritative tone. “You lost a lot of blood in the ambulance, but the blood transfusions will bring your blood pressure back up.”

Tilting your head to the side, you glared at your husband, “And is this rule from a doctor with a medical degree or a doctor whose name is on my marriage certificate?”

In response, Spencer shrugged, sitting in the beige armchair at the side of your bed, “That’s a secret I’ll never tell.”

You rolled your eyes dismissively, “Will you go see him?”

He leaned over the edge of your bed, taking your hand in his. “I can, will you be alright on your own?”

Nodding almost imperceptibly, you squeezed his hand affectionately, “I just don’t want him to be alone.” You whispered as tears pricked your eyes, you took your free hand and waved at your face, “god, what’s wrong with me?”

“A sudden drop of estrogen and progesterone immediately following birth causes mood swings. Nothing is wrong with you, your body is acting naturally,” Spencer explained patiently, dropping a gentle kiss on your lips.

You sighed before melting back into your pillows, “At least something about this feels natural,” you responded. Your brain felt like a spinning top, while your body felt like you were being weighed down by an elephant in a commercial for COPD medication.

The fact that the NICU nurse informed you that your son had a ninety-five percent chance of living a completely normal life did nothing to calm your nerves. He’d have to stay in the NICU for a few weeks and you tried to convince yourself that the extra time to prepare for him to come home would be good for you, but the idea of leaving him alone at the hospital – save for a small army of doctors and nurses – put a pit of dread in your chest.

Spencer had the forethought to warn you about the tubes and wires that he was hooked up to, ranging from oxygen to a feeding tube. “He’s been undergoing red light therapy to be treated for jaundice, but you can hold him for a while if you want to,” the nurse told you, leading the both of you through the NICU as Spencer steered your wheelchair through the hospital.

Your breathing hitched when you finally saw him, this tiny stowaway that had been growing inside of you for the last several months, and he was just so little. While you were still in your own room, you had convinced yourself that you’d hold him, but now you weren’t so convinced.

According to the sign in his room, he weighed three pounds and ten ounces and was sixteen inches long. He was sound asleep in an incubator, a small hat on top of his head, “Spence,” you breathed.

Behind you, your husband placed a comforting hand on your shoulder, “I know.”

“Did you want to hold him?” The nurse asked you gently, looking over at one of the machines that he was hooked up to.

Genuinely, you didn’t know. “Is… is that okay?” You asked, wiping your sweaty palms on the blanket draped across your legs.

The nurse gave you a knowing look, “Even better than okay, it’ll be good for him to have that kind of contact from both of his parents.”

Frowning, you watched as it took two nurses to break him out of his acrylic prison before they carefully placed him on your chest, making sure you were okay before they stepped back. Your movements were stiff at first, you had never held a baby this small before, but you eventually remembered to breathe and gently cooed at the baby in your arms.

Spencer crouched down next to you and started to ask the nurse a bunch of questions that he had likely been holding in for hours, but you just kept your eyes on the sleeping baby. He was too small to open his eyes, but everyone assured you that he’d get there.

The nurse stepped out to give you some privacy, leaving the door open just in case you needed something, “This doesn’t seem quite as difficult while I’m holding him.” You knew there was a steep learning curve ahead, but with a newborn on your chest, the pit in your heart dissipated.

“That’s called oxytocin,” Spencer said, sitting in a chair, eyes fixated on the infant in your arms.

Humming, you skimmed the pad of your thumb across your son’s tiny back, “He looks like you,” you observed quietly, they had the same nose.

Your husband smiled softly, “You can’t possibly tell which parent he takes after yet,” he informed you.

“And yet, I know he looks like you,” you insisted softly, and Spencer didn’t push back. “You look like your daddy,” you whispered to the baby, “he was the first one to hold you, you know?” You looked over at Spencer, “he’s been my superhero for four years, and now he gets to be yours too.”

#criminal minds #spencer reid #criminal minds fanfic #spencer reid fanfic #criminal minds fanfiction #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #written by margot #spencer reid angst #spencer reid fluff #criminal minds angst #criminal minds fluff #spencer reid fanfiction #criminal minds fic #dr spencer reid #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds hurt/comfort #spencer reid hurt/comfort #spencer reid dilf agenda #margot's requests

[ynsbarbbb]

love me harder | m. verstappen

hypothesis - max is on the brink of losing you. however, after a fatal accident…

pairing - max verstappen x fem!driver!reader

[fic is inspired by “love me harder” by ariana grande ft. the weeknd

“baby, in the moment, you’ll know this is, something bigger than us and beyond bliss”

“could you just look at me?” you yelled as max just kept walking a few steps ahead of you.

“can’t. race is about to start.”

stepping into a quicker pace you place yourself in front of max and the garage door, “when was the last time you told me you loved me?”

your eyes searched his face, desperately trying to find a glimpse of the max that you knew, the max you fell in love with, the max you married. the hand you placed on his chest, you could feel the steady rhythmic thump of his heart.

“you really want to do this now?”

“yes! i never see you anymore!”

max scoffed, eyes rolling as he looked back down at his phone, “sorry that i’m busy.”

your hand fell back to your side, “i’m busy too max, yet i still try.”

he nodded his head, eyes not lifting from the rectangular square. you sighed, your hands landing on your hips. is this what you’ve become now?

“is our marriage still worth fighting for, max?”

he looked up. eyes piercing through yours. you cannot believe the words just left your mouth, but it felt relieving to finally utter the words that has been haunting you for weeks.

“i’m not doing this with you right now, y/n,” max steps around you, “good luck with your race.”

~~

it was a millisecond.

you missed the turn by a millisecond and hamilton came crashing into you, sending your right wing and two tires flying. the car skidding across the track and landed upside down.

the force of the impact shoved your head against the steering wheel, hard, bouncing back against the seat.

damage had been done. to you and your car.

to lewis’ as well.

unbeknownst to max, who was in the lead, adrenaline coursing though his veins at the thought of his fourth podium for the season.

he was thriving, the car succumbing to his every command. the engine roaring sending shivers throughout his whole body.

the grin on his face turned devilish. he’s so close.

“max,” christians voice in his ears broke his train of thought, but his eyes never once lost sight of the track in front of him.

“the car’s doing great, no need to worry. podium is secure,” max declared excitingly. he took the turn, groaning at the strain it took on his body.

“though, sainz is on my tail the whole fucking time.”

christian sighed, not at all what max had expected, but he couldn’t be bothered by his team principal’s pms at the moment.

“max, there was a crash.”

another turn, another groan.

sainz could be spotted in max’ peripheral vision. he pushed the car harder, engine roaring, sending max flying away from carlos.

“who crashed?” he asked as he fiddled with the buttons on the wheel, checking if everything is still steady. he has at least seven more laps to go.

“y/n.”

dead silent.

heavy thick as your name registered in his mind. the grin that has been on his face had been wiped down. his lips sticking to his teeth.

“max?” christian asked, waiting a few moments. there was no response from the dutch.

he felt as if his body went numb, limb for limb. his arms felt wonky - not like the grip he had on the wheel mere moments ago. his breathing became shallow, his lungs struggling to capture enough oxygen, his brain malfunctioning.

next thing he knew he was crashing into sandbags.

the impact knocking sense back into him. sand dust flying everywhere.

“max!” christian exclaimed, “are you injured?”

“how’s she? is she alive?” max frantically asked. you didn’t have a choice - you had to be alright. you couldn’t be hurt, max would loose his head if you where. who crashed into you? how hard was the impact?

max got out of the car, “christian, fucking answer me!”

the line was silent for a couple of moments, “she’s stable. unconscious, but stable. no further news yet. she has been rushed to the ER.”

cars blasted past him, deafening noise drumming his ears.

“i need to get to her.”

“max, the race -“

“fuck the race, that’s my fucking wife!”

~

the doors of the ER bursted open, a very sweaty, and breathless max stood there, his eyes frantically looking around for anyone who could assist him.

he still had his suit on, christian hot on his trail.

“y/n, i need to know where y/n verstappen is,” he asked, accent thick as he slapped his hands on the receptionist desk.

she looked up at him, “any relation?”

max scoffed, “my wife.”

her fingers made quick work on the keyboard, “your wife is in surgery.”

max’ shoulders slumped and christian took hold of it, shooting a quick thanks to the nurse and led him in another direction. he swiped his hands though his hair, pulling at it, feeling his frustration grow and bubble at the bottom of his throat.

he could scream.

max paced the hallway, up and down. maybe minutes - maybe hours. he didn’t know. all he did know was that he’s staying.

why didn’t he tell you he loved you. with every fibre of his being he loved you. he craved you, constantly. the thought of you was all that he needed to survive - but knowing that you were his wife, made him whole.

you were the person who stood by him whilst he was working through his troubles with his father. on the nights when fear surrounded him, the comforting hand of you, his wife, brought him peace. on the days when he was on his happiest, it was on the days he spent with you.

you made him. you showed him to be max verstappen.

his wife.

~~

news spread around the paddock, like a wild fire. sky sport tv airing out to fans and viewers to keep you in their prayers and thoughts.

some of your and max’ closest friends took off straight away to the hospital, supporting max even though he didn’t even acknowledge them.

they were still there.

an apology from lewis was sent out world wide, and he even made an appearance to max, but the dutch only glared at him, taking hold of his collar, making his friends jump and take hold of max.

“if she doesn’t make it out of here, you’ll regret ever setting foot on a paddock again. i’ll kill you.”

his voice was icy as he spat the words at lewis, baring his teeth. daniel stepped in between the two and pushed max back by his chest.

max’ eyes never left lewis’ retreating from.

~~

“verstappen, y/n.”

max was in front of the doctor in a second, his eyes pleading his for good news. the doctor smiled at him and gave him what he was searching for.

“she’s asleep, but she’s an extreme fighter. you’ve got no worries, mr verstappen.”

he swore he could cry.

the doctor told him the room you were in and max wasted no time rushing towards it.

he searched the numbers above the doors for room one-o-one. his number. a bit of pride bursting in his chest, fate really had put you two together.

max stepped into the room and his heart broke.

machines connected to your heart, the beeping sound being the only indication that you are in fact alive. various cuts and bruises formed along your face. a neck brace adorned. oxygen mask on your beautiful face.

max stifled a sob as he crashed into a seat near your bed, scooting closer and taking hold of your hand. his thumb drawing patterns on your knuckles.

even in your unconscious mind your body still knew that it was your max, the heart monitor speeding up slightly.

it caused him to chuckle, “mijn schatje, mijn alles, i am so sorry. this should’ve never happened to you.”

he squeezed your palm, pressing a tender kiss to the flesh, “fight, stay strong for me, yeah? so that i can love you right this time.”

~~

a gentle knock at the door roused max from his sleep. his hand was still tucked in yours.

max turned towards the door, lando stood there.

a soft smile on his face with a gym bag in his hand, “mate, i brought you some clothes - the suit can not be comfortable.”

he chuckled and motioned for his muppet friend to come in. lando placed the bag by the door and walked closer to stand next to max. he placed a firm hand on his shoulder.

“how’s the missus?”

max looked at you, a lump the size of a bull frog lodged itself in his throat, “she’s good, doc said she’s a real fighter.”

“she is a verstappen, ey?” lando nudged max’ shoulder who just chuckled in response. he felt guilty, ashamed, contrast to who he was. he shouldn’t have had to treat his wife like shit. you just wanted to know he loves you.

“look, mate, don’t beat yourself up about what happend, see this as a new beginning.”

max nodded, “she just wanted me to say that i love her. shit, i should’ve just said it to her. the crash-“

“is not your fault, you couldn’t have possibly predicted an accident to happen.”

he shook his head and looked at the bag by the door, “i’m going to change, would you mind maybe staying here. i don’t want to leave her alone.”

“yeah, of course mate.”

~~

two weeks later

“don’t strain yourself so much, schat,” max’ voice was gentle as he looked at your from his seat on the couch. within mere moments he stood in front of you, large palms pressed to your hips to help you walk the last few remaining steps.

this last couple of weeks changed. your marriage changed. max changed.

he was waiting on you hand and foot, even though you have told him multiple times that certain things you can do on your own, he still insisted.

the one noticeable change for yourself and everyone surrounding you was the fact that max openly, whenever he got the chance told you he loved you.

whether it be when you’re making dinner, doing dishes, walking beside him on the paddock - he’d say he loves you with a kiss pressed to your temple. it was and still is absolute bliss.

your recovery went by fast, splendid as your doctor had put it. with time and patience, he said, you’d be back on the track in no time.

when your socked feet took the last step, max couldn’t help the face splitting grin that adorned his face.

“look at you go, speedy,” he smiled as he took hold of your head and pressed a tender kiss to your forehead. speedy. the nickname max had dubbed you the moment you overtook him when you first met.

speedy. the nickname max had dubbed you the moment you stole his heart.

speedy. the nickname max had used in his vows the moment you took his last name.

max made sure that you didn’t strain yourself too much in the recovery process, he treated you like you were his fine china, bubble wrapping your heart and by God, swearing that he’d never let his actions and words ever hurt you again.

he poured so much love into you. you practically glowed in comparison to when the argument had occurred.

his love.

his wife.

max made sure you knew how much he adored you, loved you, craved you.

“ik hou van je, mijn schat.”

and you knew he did.

fin.

#charles leclerc x reader #carlos sainz x reader #lewis hamilton x reader #max verstappen x reader #max verstappen #world championships 2024 #formula 1 #formula one #f1 fanfic #f1 imagine #f1 one shot #f1 x reader #f1 2024 #x reader #daniel ricciardo imagine #daniel ricciardo

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

Would I be the asshole if I refused to pay my phone bill?

📱🧾♿️ <- To recognize my post for later :)

The title is probably already a bit of a red flag, but I genuinely didn’t know how else to word it…

For context: I am a disabled, chronically and mentally ill trans guy who recently turned 20. I haven’t left home yet for a lot of reasons, some being that my parents promised to let me live rent-free so long as I was in college (which I am, just not currently for the summer) as well as the fact that they really haven’t raised me to be very independent and rely solely on them (which is honestly a whole other can of worms), but primarily because of my disability. It isn’t safe for me to live on my own, as I faint commonly, cannot stand up for more than maybe fifteen minutes at a time roughly, and sometimes am unable to eat for long periods of time due to debilitating nausea which leads to weakness. I also have severe chronic pain in my limbs and gut, something I’ve had most of my life, while my chronic illness I’ve only had for about a year and a half now and am still struggling to adjust to.

Because of my disability, I also can’t work a traditional job. I offer art commissions online, because I’m very passionate about art and it’s one of the few things I’m good at, and I haul in a decent amount, but certainly not enough to live off of. I make enough to set aside some good savings (I’m currently saving for a wheelchair, as that might grant me more freedom and the potential to get a job at least for the summer) while also indulging myself in buying the occasional fatty treat (I’m very underweight so that’s not an issue, and I was raised essentially in an almond mom household all my life, so this form of eating is really the only sense of control I have over my life, as I’m fully dependent on my parents elsewise).

The issue has come upon relatively recently. I feel like a huge entitled brat for it as well, and if others believe the same, I sincerely don’t blame you.

My mom sat me down the other day and said that she expected me to start paying at least one bill. She offered my cheapest bill (which would be for my phone; my parents bought it, and it’s theirs, they’re just letting me use it as my own.. I don’t own a whole lot of “my” items myself) and asked what I thought about that. I was fully honest with her: if I had a steady stream of income, I wouldn’t hesitate to offer to pay for all of my bills, but with the way it stands, I just don’t make enough month-to-month to regularly afford the bill. I also do my commissions through my phone, so if I could afford the bill, my phone would be turned off, and I’d be unable to continue.

My mom got very upset and started talking to me like a child (though she really has every right to, honestly, and I know that). She went on a very long rant about teaching me responsibility, and how I can’t rely on my parents forever, and that I need to grow up at some point… All things that I fully agree with. I sincerely want to! I want nothing more than to be fully independent. But the way it stands, my parents cover my entire medical bills and they pay for my meds… And I just don’t make enough to survive on my own, and I can just barely afford a meal or two from a sandwich shop I enjoy twice a month to keep my sanity in check because I’m usually bedbound.

I tried explaining to her that I would if I could, sincerely, and that I’m not trying to be a leech or lazy, but she wasn’t having it. She just scolded me and said that if I can afford to eat out every month, then I can afford the phone bill. But again, with the way things are, I don’t think I’d be able to do it every month without tapping into my savings, which again, is for my wheelchair so I can regain some sense of freedom for myself. I’m seriously debating just telling her no straight out, but I don’t know what the aftermath might look like…

So, sincerely: Am I in the wrong here? Should I just swallow my protests and cough up the money somehow? I really don’t know and would love an outside perspective.

#aita #am i the asshole

[crystalflygeo]

Last of her kind Emperor!Alpha!Zhongli + Omega!Dragoness!Reader

cw/tags: Your usual mentions of slavery and sexual themes, A/B/O dynamics and heat mentions. Also allusions to depression and mentions of death.

notes: Aahahaha this took forever..... allow me top explain: first of all my new job is killing me and second of all I'm going through a hard period where I don't really like anything I write anymore. This work in particularly I kept struggling with the pacing, the dialogues, the way I wanted feelings to come across or scenes to flow it's just hhhnnnggg. I told a couple of friends that I set the bar so high with the first part I feel like nothing else I write will be that good. Then the second part was "ok" but cut off in a cliffhanger and has been there for SO LONG that now I feel this will be underwhelming after all the buildup//hit

I hope it's not. I hope it's good.

Anyway this part is in Zhongli's pov and contains flashbacks which will be fully in italics! Enjoy! and thanks for caring so much about this story ;w; ILU all <3

<- Part 2.

Your instincts mess up with your head.

Your crying and anxiety have simmered to a cold numbness.

Hours blur together, time loses meaning.

The doctor comes by sometimes. The maids bring you food. But everything feels… off, distant.

This doesn’t feel… like your usual heats.

You curl up and sob, a choked soft noise.

You don’t feel hot, but rather cold. Limbs weak. Dizzy.

Your heart aches.

You’re so tired.

And so sleepy…

Zhongli puts down the seal stamp and deflates back into his chair with a sigh, he must have read the same line at least five times already. He cannot concentrate at all. It’s not even been three days and each hour, each minute, feels eternal.

He’s already gotten so used to your presence, so smitten with you and your little quirks, your rare smiles, the way your ears and tail flicker, your pretty eyes…

And he remembers those same eyes begging for him, teary. Your pitiful cry. Your distressed scent.

Guilt eats at him. As well as something else…

He’s been restless, barely slept. Your scent is a siren’s song on the blankets, tart and fresh and tantalizing, but you are not with him. Anxious energy flows in his veins. This emotion, this thing that is like regret and sorrow and fear all tangled together, cleaves him through. His instincts are screaming at him, rattling inside a cage of his own making. His mate, his precious Omega is in heat, you’re scared and lonely and need him. Zhongli has to suppress a growl and feel the shudder of his scales at the fact that he’s not with you. In your nest. Taking care of you.

It’s agonizing.

"How is she?"

The same question, over and over, at any chance he gets.

"She refuses to eat, your majesty." Xiao tells him, and he can feel the concern in the younger Alpha’s voice. “According to the maids she only took a few bites of the ajilenak nuts, the rest of the food was left untouched.”

…

"She's um... she's always sleeping when I go check up on her." Ganyu explains a little crestfallen. She too is worried. “A-at least I think she’s in no pain… she was clinging to one of your hanfus.”

…

"You should go see her, Zhongli." Ping states, a rare serious expression on her usual gentle factions. “Baizhu says she’s going through the worst case of separation sickness he’s ever seen. Is that really what you want your poor Yin to go through?”

He lets out a frustrated rumble.

“Of course not. But it’s for the best, I don’t want to… take advantage of her, or force her to anything.” Zhongli frowns, trying to focus on the papers in front of him again, in an attempt to ignore her piercing gaze.

“Is it really any of that if she wants her mate?” Ping retorts. “She was begging you.”

I know.

He growls this time, and shakes his head at his memory of you. It haunts him.

“She doesn’t know what she wants.”

“So, you’re deciding for her then? Is that it? Honestly, are you listening to yourse-”

“She’s been conditioned to serve.” He cuts her off, voice grave and somber. “Trained to be submissive and please. She likes me simply because I’m kind to her, she wants me because she thinks it’s her obligation as my mate. I feel the pull of the bond too, the need, the yearning. But I also know she is afraid of Alphas and she thinks… she thinks she has to obey me. That she owes me something or that own her.” His eyes narrow. “I didn’t need to bond her. I shouldn’t have bonded her. I just… wanted her to be free and instead I chained her to me. And now she’s in heat…”

And it drives him insane.

“Listen to me, we’ve both spent time with her, enough to know she’s opening up and learning to voice her feelings…” Ping reasons gently. “It’s a slow process, don’t hurt her this way. At the very least… go see her.”

“I lost control once with just one kiss from her. I will not do it again. I will not harm her any further.”

The elderly woman keeps silent for a few moments. Zhongli sighs and rests his forehead in his palm in defeat.

And then Ganyu approaches, a little tense, a stack of papers in her hands.

“Your majesty, the Qixing are starting to arrive, council meeting will begin soon.”

“Very well. Thank you Ganyu.” He stands up and nods at her, then turns to Ping and his demeanor softens a little. “You know I just want to correct my mistakes, and give her the life she deserves. At least a fraction of it, of happiness.”

It wasn’t supposed to go this way… Zhongli sighed as he walked up to the room where the “reunion” with the sumerian would take place. It was long overdue seeing as he had spent the night by your side, refusing to leave after you had cried and begged so desperately…

After he had bonded you.

He had initially taken the eremite’s claims with a grain of salt, but naturally he had to make sure. The last dragonblood had supposedly died decades ago, so how…?

And yet when he saw you for the first time in that room, he knew.

You were real, you were beautiful. Suddenly he felt a million things at once: He wanted to get to know you, stay close to you, protect you. Old draconic instinct vibrating excitedly on his soul. You smelled vaguely familiar, your tail was gorgeous, your ears adorable. What if you didn’t like him though? What if he harmed you? Scared you? Suddenly he was nervous, nervous of ruining this, nervous in a way he hadn’t been in so long, like when he’d been young and Liyue had been at war and he had lost everything to fire and smoke and dust and he had to make difficult decisions and-

He had always calculated his moves. No room for risks. Too much at stake.

But you, you disarmed him. Completely.

You, with your polite gentleness despite the obvious cracks beneath the surface.

You, with your beautiful looks and enormous potential, even if you didn’t see it yourself.

You, with that look of yearning and hope, with your soft lips and sweet moans, with your warm body fitting perfectly against his.

For once, he allowed himself to make a decision with his heart, not logic, not politics. Just instincts.

And he claimed you…

…

He enters the room. A couple Millelith soldiers stationed by the door, Xiao standing by his side loyally as he sits at his place of honor as the emperor. Your ‘master’, an Alpha eremite named Zaheer, kneels respectfully a little below.

“I see you liked her, your majesty” He offers a sly smirk. “Did she satisfy you properly? She’s been trained on her gag reflexes to-”

Zhongli -Morax- resists the urge to growl. “We are not here to discuss that.”

“Ah, of course, business!”

Business.

“Since she’s such an exotic and well-trained slave I suppose we could agree on…”

“Do you think of me an idiot, Zaheer?” Morax’s eyes narrow.

“P-Pardon me?”

“She is a pureblood xiānshòu. I want to know exactly how she ended up being enslaved by you and your people.”

Cold and calculating golden eyes stare down at the eremite.

“W-What… she’s desert-born!” Zaheer retorts back angrily “She was born at a heat house. Maybe she has traits from your people because one of them decided to get a cheap fuck while traveling.”

“You expect me to believe that?” Morax asks unfazed “Liyue has records of the last of her kind disappearing and presumably being murdered when a village near Sumeru borders was razed to the ground. Do you have a disclosure?”

Zaheer stands up and growls, clearly an Alpha not used to having to bow his head and accept things not going his way.

Clearly an Alpha used to intimidating and attacking others.

Xiao wields his spear and changes his stance to an offensive one. The Millelith guards also tense.

Zaheer gets even more irritated, feeling like a caged animal. Backed into a corner. “Emperor or not” He starts through gritted teeth. “If you’re not going to pay me then I’ll take my merchandise back and do business elsewhere where I’m not being accused of ridiculous claims.”

“You’re right that I won’t be doing any business with you, but we’ll see how ridiculous those claims truly are. Zaheer, by my word as the emperor you will now remain detained in Liyue.” Morax sentences.

The eremite’s red eyes widen in shock and rage and the desert-dweller shoots up to attack Morax, getting easily overpowered and neutralized by Xiao’s quick moves. In seconds his weapon drops to the floor as the Yaksha general points his spear at the unconscious man. The Millelith quickly retrieve him and the blade before Morax simply nods at them.

Months. It had been months since then and he had to begrudgingly release the man as no accusation connected him to anything. They were essentially out of leads. There did appear to be documentation of your birth at a desert village but Zhongli would be hard pressed to believe the half-assed story you’ve been told…

And since you are pureblood, then both of your parents, and most importantly your dam, was also a dragonblood. That’s at the very least one Liyue citizen enslaved in a foreign nation.

He would get to the bottom of this.

For now, however, he had to cast those worries aside.

The Seven members of the council sit around the large table, the Liyue Qixing, leaders of all the commerce and trade sectors of the nation.

Zhongli takes his place at the head of the table. Ganyu does so as well by the sideline.

“Very well, what’s our first topic today?”

“Did Master just… leave?”

There was silence at the table, Zhongli and Ping sit frozen and you get just a bit nervous.

It’d been a few days since you started your new life, and though Zhongli was sure you were warming up to it he knew you still had a long way to go. It was probably still a little surreal for you… such a big change from everything you knew.

The tension on his shoulders quickly drops again. He continues eating. “Yes.” He says simply. Ping follows his lead, saying nothing.

The faster you forget about that eremite, the better.

“Hm…” You continue eating as well. Your expression is a little conflicted…

You inhale.

“Was he… happy… that I finally found a mate?”

Zhongli turns to you sharply and tenses again like a cat bristling. He holds back his tongue so as to not say something he’d regret. Why do you still care about that despicable man’s opinion? Why do you still seek his approval? Did you really think he cared about you? Zhongli desperately wants to make you understand how that slave-owner only saw you as an object, how he fed you lies, how his mistreatment is inexcusable…

But he can only imagine how deep your scars run, and how that toxic mindset has settled and accompanied you for years. He cannot judge you for caring about someone who doesn’t deserve it.

“Why do you ask, dear?” Ping asks instead.

“I don’t know…” You mumble, poking at the congee with your spoon. “I always wanted to make him proud.”

Proud.

Him?

“I think what matters most is how you feel.” Zhongli says, his hand reaching out for yours invitingly and you place your fingers on his palm, getting a soft reassuring squeeze. “You don’t need to rely on how others view you or think about you.”

You seem thoughtful for a second, your ears flickering back insecure but then standing up alert again. “I am happy” You admit. “Very happy. I have the best mate in the world.” You smile brightly.

Zhongli’s heart does a flip.

“With the excessive rains in the northern villages, there have been many floods and a lot of crops have been severely damaged or lost. Our previous contingency plan is in action already and donations are being sent to help the affected families. However, we must prepare for a decline in the harvest of certain grains and vegetables this season, as well as an increase in prices for a few months due to the shift in demand and supply.” Keqing explains expertly, the young alpha’s expression is serious and solemn.

“It’s an opportunity to strengthen commerce with Mondstadt and Sumeru.” Ningguang chimes in, leaning back on her chair, arms crossed. “The value of jade and other crystals is on the rise as well.”

“Not to mention, we’ll be employing several architects from the Akademiya to help with the rebuilding.” Keqing adds, turning to Ganyu, who nods.

“Greater lord Rukkhadevata and lesser Lord Kusanali have agreed on a certain exchange program with Liyue. I started drafting up some proposals already if you’d like to see.” The blue-haired secretary passes along some documents.

Ningguang’s eyes skim along the page. “It’s almost like our new Sumeru-born empress was a sign.” She smirks. “By the way, where is she?” She turns to Zhongli, curious about her fellow Omega.

“She’s rather indisposed at the moment.” The emperor replies dryly, not wanting to delve much onto the touchy subject. “Ganyu this looks good, however we need to think about-”

There is a knock that quickly surprises everyone. Who could interrupt a council meeting and why?

Baizhu peeks in with Changsheng curled around his neck, a frown on his usually gentle features. “Your majesty, a word. It’s an emergency.”

All the members at the table stare silently as Zhongli stands and follows the doctor.

Ganyu has a bad feeling…

“We have no time, follow me.” The green-haired doctor walks briskly along the wooden corridors, he looks… frustrated, dejected.

“What’s wrong?”

He doesn’t want to panic. He never panics. But something inside him does. It’s obvious that this has to do with you. 

“I apologize, your majesty. I thought it was just a case of separation sickness but… the empress is showing signs of widow’s wasting.”

Zhongli stops.

His heart skips a beat. His skin prickles with dread.

“She’s… dying?”

Baizhu shakes his head. “It hasn’t reached that point yet, but… she’s deteriorating.”

The guilt is back. The fear.

“Given what happened, I’m pretty certain the shock of your rejection was the trigger. Still, it is highly unusual for a Yin to suffer from widow’s wasting without their partner actually dying, even more so for it to settle so quickly. Her reaction is akin to someone who had never left their mate’s side for years.” Baizhu explains.

You trusted him.

And he turned his back on you.

What have I done?

“In any casssse, it’ssss not too late.” Changsheng’s little voice pipes in. Baizhu keeps leading the way and Zhongli follows, though he obviously knows the entire palace like the palm of his hand, at the moment his thoughts are scattered and far far away.

“She needs her mate’s reassurance. I have done what I can with medicine but this is a bonded pair matter.” Finally, he stops at a juncture and turns to Zhongli. “Please, your majesty, only you can save her. I will tell Ganyu, Xiao and Ping of the situation, and if you need anything, just ask.”

Zhongli nods, mute.

The snake narrows her eyes. “Don’t leave her sssside.”

“Changsheng.” Baizhu shushes.

She is right to chastise him. He deserves that and more.

“I won’t.” Zhongli nods and heads down the hall.

Widow’s wasting.

The words echo in his head. He’s seen the damage it can do. How a broken bond, the loss of the most important person, can destroy someone inside. Did you really care that much about him? Did he really hurt you that badly?

“Please…”

He didn’t mean to.

“I have the best mate in the world.”

He feels like a monster.

“I want to stay with you. Sleep together. Like mates.”

He needs to see you. He needs to make sure you’re ok…

He stands in front of the nest room. The same one where he first met you.

Opening the doors only slightly to slip inside, Zhongli's eyes widen and a hand flies to cover his nose and mouth when a strong smell shakes him to his very core.

The room he expected to be completely saturated with intense heat pheromones… instead bears the acrid scent of despair.

This isn’t the lustful call to breed and have children that made an omega vulnerable and pliant. No. It is a desperate cry from a heartbroken omega for their mate to come back, to stay with them, to love and protect them. It is grief.

You are suffering because of him.

To think all this time… he was afraid he'd make you uncomfortable. That he’d scare you, hurt you, ruin the bond you’ve carefully built. Instead, he is overcome by an all-consuming terror. Every part of him screaming at his mate's weak essence.

And there you are, his precious treasure, his sweet dragoness.

You lay curling in on yourself letting out small muffled sobs.

“Y/n…” 

No reaction.

“Darling, my dear dragoness…” He rushes up to you immediately, grabs your hand and pets your hair. You look so weak, your skin is feverish, how has it only been three days? It feels like a lifetime…

You shift a little and your eyes blink open, staring at him dazed, red and puffy and your expression defeated. You let out a pitiful whine and more of that bitter sad scent is released. 

“No my dear, don’t cry, I’m here. I’m sorry, I’m so sorry.” Zhongli coos as he curls up to you, frantically starting to scent and nip at your neck and shoulders affectionately. His horns manifest and his tail follows through, lashing about a little restless. The bond… feels wrong, broken. He should be able to intimately feel you this close and yet…

He tries to reposition you a little so you can lie on top of him, rest on his chest. It’s concerning how easily he can do so, you’re like a ragdoll in his arms, unresponsive and unmoving. His hands cup your face, thumbs rubbing at the traces of tears in your cheeks. You let out a frustrated whimper. “Shhhh shh it’s okay. I’m so sorry.”

Even if he says it a million times, it won’t feel enough.

Zhongli nuzzles at your neck and proceeds to do something he hasn’t done since he was practically a teen. He purrs. It’s a little rusty, comes off more as a grumbling but it seems to work as he feels you relax just slightly in his arms.

“I’m right here” Zhongli’s deep voice assures you, tugging you closer, mouthing at the soft skin along your collarbone. “I’m not going anywhere and I’m all yours, I promise, I promise. I won’t leave you alone, not ever.” He soothes.

He lowers a bit of your clothes at the shoulder and grazes his fangs along your faded mark, you tense and let out a long shaky breath.

“Everything will be ok.” He kisses the spot. “I’m sorry.”

And then he sinks his fangs in to reestablish the claim.

You cry out in pain and squirm, clawing at his clothes, but he holds you, his hand rubbing circles at your back, his tail intertwining with yours.

...

.....

...

At first nothing changes, but after a few moments… a low strained purr bubbles up from within you again.

#genshin x you #genshin x reader #zhongli x reader #zhongli x you #genshin impact x you #genchin impact x reader #genshin imagines #genshin impact imagines #crys writes #fem reader #LohK #minors dni #just in case #me: it gets worse #also me: //reader is dying and it's zhongli's fault woops #we have his pov now about the first meeting #a bit of his feelings!! #see I really hope I did a decent job showing his thoughts/side bc I don't want him to come off as “suddenly Zl is being stubborn/a jerk” fo #he has valid concerns about the relationship and yes he had good intentions #shoutout to Baizhu best doctor and changsheng for having zero chill #Ping voice of reason #despair and grief are such hardcore words I love how hard they go here

[natalchartnurtures]

PAC: Energy Check~ for wherever you are right now

This was completely unplanned but frankly spirit doesn't give a fuck about my plans. So if this found you, here are some messages you probably need right now-

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

pile 1: Ooh.. as I was preparing to start your reading, I saw 11:11 as the Chariot card showed up for you. This. Tells me that you are pretty strongly connected to your divine path right now, which simply means that you're doing something that's keeping you in alignment, sweet pile one! Good job! Keep going down this road because you WILL stumble upon amazing experiences and people! This message is coming through quite strongly. Now, isn't that lovely? Hehe.

Here's the thing, though.. Although you're actually IN alignment with your greatest timeline and life, you seem to be completely UNAWARE of the fact! You might be going through the necessary purging emotionally and/or mentally as a result of this alignment since the "old stuff" has no more room in your new vibration anymore. So, you've probably had to go through some intense endings and/or tower moments in life lately and THIS has left you feeling really, really sad. Maybe even depressed. For some of you, if that's the case, please seek help, sweet soul. It doesn't have to be therapy but even as simple as talking to a trusted loved one, you know? Or even journaling about it could help if you're into it. It seems like you could use a new perspective on the things you're going through right now. I'm sensing that you might be feeling emotionally numb right now too, but that's because you've been doing a lot of emotional processing lately AND IT'S ALL PAYING OFF. I just need you to know that. You just can't see it right now because you're slap dead in the middle of the storm, and I'm looking at it from a bird's eye view, you know?

While you're purging old stuff, I also see you making your way through an old core belief - "I gotta work hard to be deserving of anything because I inherently don't" Or something along those lines. You may have started purging this belief as a result of life showing you that it's simply not something worth keeping alive inside you. Maybe recently, you caught yourself overworking yourself to death only to receive very little in return (in any area of your life - relationships included) and this experience helped you wake up to this unhelpful belief of yours. You're unlearning this belief as we speak. It's not easy though, but I CAN assure you, you're acing it.

If you find yourself worrying too much about anything and everything or simply feeling a general fear, just know that it's a normal reaction to having things uprooted in your life. Life, right now, is asking you to do your best to focus on what's right in front of you because if you do this, the future is guaranteed to sort itself out. I promise.

I love you so much, pile 1. I see all your hard work and am rooting for you SO hard, bro. Love and light.

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

Pile 2: Seems like to me that y'all have been STUCK in a particular pattern for a while now, maybe years? For some of you folks reading? Let me spell it out for you what this pattern looks like to me - an imbalance of the mind and heart. Too much mind and too little heart. Maybe none at all.

I can't seem to tap into the root of this imbalance, maybe because it's different for each of you reading, OR maybe it's not relevant to us right now because you can simply begin to address this imbalance as you see it in your day-to-day. But I sense that you're really good at addressing things, so once you're conscious of this pattern going on subtly in the background, running your life, you can really do something about this. This pattern may show up as you struggling with feeling fear, and this is blocking you off to one very important thing fear is here to show us, and that is how to support ourselves. If we are afraid of something we desire and have a healthy relationship with fear, we go for the desire while caretaking our fear. I read a quote the other day, it said "Do that thing you love but if you find that you're scared, then go do it scared." The point I'm trying to make is, fear isn't going to go away on its own, it's you who will simply expand your ability to hold space for it AND your desires equally. When you figure out how to do this, magic will happen in your life. You'll find that your unwillingness to caretake your fear only gave you more things to be afraid of (because, hello, Law Of Attraction *lol*), BUT you'll also find that when you radically start taking responsibility for your fear(s), you'll be able to act from a wiser space and be your full badass self. You'll find that there are so many things you CAN do and so much life you CAN live. Everything you've wanted to start doing in life will start to happen almost seamlessly. It WILL surprise you big time. You're currently making your way through an important part of your healing, and that is to hold yourself in all your glory. To hold all parts of yourself, even the ones that are scared shitless. Once you've integrated this segment of your healing, SO many doors will unlock for you. Sweet soul, you have no clue of JUST HOW MANY. And this… is probably because you manifest with your heart primarily (meaning you feel things deeply and so you unknowingly tap into the frequency of what you want easily) and your fear is keeping you stuck in your head, which means you're only 40% of the full You right now, PRIOR the healing of c. You might even feel it sometimes. You might feel like you're only a shell of a person (been there myself, you're not alone in this!). Listen to that feeling. Your truth lies in there. You're meant to be the 100% you, and I see that you're already halfway there!

I love you so much, pile 2, sending you so much light and love. Hope you find the resources you need to make it through to your new life where you live in more love than fear.

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

Pile 3: Man… y'all been fighting for your lives, huh? I see that you may be in the midst of a lot of divinely evoked darkness? Lol, I literally heard that - divinely evoked darkness. Maybe you're going through a dark night of the soul, perhaps? Whatever your're going through though, it seems like you've been hanging on for dear life.

Some good news for you- no matter the circumstances you're in right now (be it good, bad, or terrible), you've been doing all the work necessary to keep your head above water and have been diligently nurturing your own light, positivity, and essence. THAT'S incredible resilience, sweet pile 3, and I'm really proud of you! It's not easy to keep an open heart through bad times, and that's such a grand achievement in my eyes. UGH, BEAUTIFUL.

Your energy SCREAMS transition period vibes. You seem to be neither in your "old" timeline nor in the new one yet. You're sorta hanging in the middle right now. I see the Hanged Man in the third eye as I tell you this. Feels like you're in the void right now, and things just seem… bleh. Boring. Color

less. This is probably because you're already done with the ugly part of the process, "the divine shakeups", the loss, and the purge. Think… the bland but peaceful feeling you feel after having an intense ugly crying session, you know? Yeah, you're energetically there right now. You'll probably be here for a while longer because you've let go of MAJOR stuff, pile 3. Did you let go of people recently, maybe? Or that old bad habit, perhaps? That was the purge, so to speak. And now you're in the aftermath of it all, the uncomfortable but necessary calm.

-Side note: You might've struggled to embody your divine feminine earlier, but the timeline you're entering right now is the exact opposite of that. You might be attracted towards things that will help you nurture your own divine feminine right now. Give into it. Nurture patience, stillness, and compassion for self. It will HOPEFULLY speed up the void period if you consciously take part in it, you know?-

You're quite emotionally intelligent, and it has guided you throughout the whole process, and it also seems like it ain't your first rodeo in the process of proverbial death and rebirth. Good on you because you're doing a real good job keeping your calm through venturing into the unknown. You know what? You remind me of Elsa from Frozen, taking on the unknown like it belongs to her. You are such a queen, omg.

Yep, all that's left to do now is celebrate yourself, pile 3! Try your best to embrace this period, the void, and you'll be on your way to your next happy adventure! Love and light, sweet soul. Thanks for sharing your energy with me today.

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

#astrology community #spirituality #tarot #tarotcommunity #divination #tarot cards #tarot reading #pac reading #tarot readers #pac tarot #PAC free reading #energy check #tarotblr #free tarot #spiritual awakening #spiritualgrowth #consciousness #mysticism #PAC #pick a card reading #pick a pile #pick a card #pick a picture #tarot witch #tarot community #spiritual community #spiritual journey #dark night of the soul #kundalini awakening

[luv4jason]

jason todd x fem!reader

3 in 1 ??

hi first post! (i don’t know what i’m doing)

—

One thing about dating Jason Todd — that man always has a hand on you. He has irrational fears of losing you, or you leaving him (you’d never). He knows they’re irrational, but can’t help it.

Physical contact with you keeps him grounded. He almost has to continue reminding himself that you're real, that you're not going anywhere. You're actually his as he is yours.

-

Jason begrudgingly lets you drag him to a bar for a night out. It's not really your scene, definitely not his either, but nonetheless he agreed to tag along when you told him your friends from GCU invited you.

Approaching the bar, he stands behind you. You're showing your ID to the bouncer with your right hand, and the left behind you intertwined with Jason's. He gently rubs his thumb over your skin as he watches the bouncer check your card.

Jason's eyes narrow when the bouncer's gaze lands back on your face, then dropping down your tight-fitting dress. Jason could've sworn he saw the guy's lip twitch into a small smirk.

Sure, maybe he was just doing his job. But Jason watched him hardly spare a glance at the ID's of the people before you both. Maybe Jason was just overprotective.. or overthinking. Either way, the interaction didn't sit right with him.

Jason adjusts his posture, removing his hand from yours and sliding it around your waist instead. His large palm rests on your lower stomach possessively, sharp green eyes staring down the bouncer. You feel the hard planes of Jason's chest pressed against your back, and the bouncer notices the change in demeanor immediately.

Cleaning his throat, the poor guy spares Jason a quick nervous glance, handing back your card, and barely checking Jason's within a couple seconds. Jason doesn't hesitate to shoot him a glare before following you into the noisy bar.

The rest of the night, your boyfriend is glued to your side. He enjoyed watching you have fun and meeting a few of your friends from class.

Let's face it — he liked anything related to you.

His hand alternated between holding yours or resting on the small of your back. Or you’d prefer to hold his bicep, leaning on him as you listened to the story one of your wasted friends went on about. Jason felt like his skin was buzzing where your delicate fingers held onto him. He hadn’t listened to word she said, way too focused on the feeling of your touch. The feeling of you wanting to be so close him, just as he craves.

Every so often he would check on you, knowing your social battery didn't last long, similar to his.

Leaning down, his lips would just barely graze your ear. He'd whisper something like; "How're you feeling, baby?" or, "You having fun?"

Along with reminding you how beautiful you looked, or how he couldn't wait to get you alone. And once you both were back in your apartment, he was sure to prove just how patient he was earlier.

-

Jason always needed to be touching you when sleeping. It was non-negotiable.

He’d come home late from patrol — always sure to get a quick shower, before slipping on some boxers and sliding into bed next to you. Being a light sleeper, you’d wake up instantly. But Jason would start right away with peppering your sweet face with little kisses.

“Shh, sweetheart. I’m home. Go back to sleep, okay?”

You’d relax once again, letting his strong arms pull you into a comforting embrace. And it doesn’t take long before Jason’s warmth lulls you back to sleep.

His favorite way to sleep was with your body tucked right up against his chest, and his arm snug around your torso. Or simply you laying on him like a weighted blanket.

He’d absentmindedly run his fingers along your scalp, relishing in how your freshly-washed, silky hair felt against his hand. Every part of you was so soft, it drove him crazy. How could he not want to touch you 24/7?

And once he noticed your breathing start to slow and even out, he wouldn’t dare move a muscle.

Jason would focus on syncing his breaths with your own, and in doing so he'd pass out within minutes. He swore he got the best sleep every time.

Yet, you both got hot in the night — especially during the summer.. and the few times the AC broke. So even with some space between you two, his palm would always find some part of your body. It was Jason's way of making sure you were still there. So he could still feel your chest rise and fall, or the rhythmic thumping of your pulse. And again he'd preform the ritual of matching his breath to yours until sleep took him.

-

In the mornings, Jason would reach out for you, always wanting to tuck you right back into his embrace. But on the days when he'd be met with cold sheets, your boyfriend would jolt awake, panicking for half a second. Only before hearing the shower running or the clinking of dishes in the kitchen. Jason would then relax, reminding himself you didn't go anywhere and that you're okay.

He is sure to join you — whether he finds you in the bathroom or kitchen.

Without a word, he's undressing and stepping under the water, pulling your backside flush against him.

"Missed you." His tired and gravelly voice sounds against your ear, "Should've woke me, baby. Almost gave me a heart attack when I saw you weren't in bed.”

Jason plants a kiss to your neck before pressing his nose against your skin, nuzzling his face into the crook of your shoulder. You smile to yourself, reaching up behind you to rake a hand through his raven hair.

"I'm sorry, Jay.. you got back from patrol so late I thought you'd need the sleep." You tell him, and turn around to face him. You slide your arms around his neck and he tilts his head to kiss your forearm.

"Mm.. would rather be with you." He mumbles, "I can catch up on sleep later."

Jason's large hands snake around your waist, gaze dropping from your face to your breasts, then the curve of your torso. His eyes lingered for a moment before he reached for your vanilla scented body wash.

Washing you in the shower may have been just another excuse to get his hands on you. But, Jason simply loved taking care of you. He'd motion for you to turn around before lathering the soap on your back, and gently over the rest of your skin. His rough and calloused palms moved tenderly, always sure to only touch you with the lightest hand.

On other mornings, he'll find you in the kitchen. Maybe making some breakfast or just a coffee.

He saunters over to you, and you catch a glimpse of his tall frame in your peripheral, shirtless, but wearing his favorite dark grey sweats.

"Morning, Jase." You glance up at him, holding back a giggle at how his eyes are still a little puffy from sleep, his white tuft of hair hanging over them.

You're stirring some pancake mix up, adorned with many small chocolate chips the way you like it.

The corners of his lips curl up slightly, his eyes dropping to your shirt. Or, more like his shirt. It reaches your mid-thigh, and Jason lifts a hand to tug at the fabric.

"This looks familiar."

You roll your eyes playfully. "Does it?" You turn to face the stove, pouring your chocolate chip pancake batter onto a heated pan. 

Jason steps up behind you, hands slipping under the shirt to rest on the bare skin of your hips. Long fingers toy with the lace of your panties which lay on your hipbones. He dips his head down, chin now resting on your shoulder.

"You look good in it." He emphasizes his words with a little squeeze to your waist, making you jump slightly. Jason chuckles low in your ear at that reaction.

"My girl's so sensitive.." He teases, and you elbow him lightly in response.

As you continue making breakfast, Jason’s touch travels up your stomach and then back down to your thighs.

He’ll murmur something about how soft your skin is. Or how good the food smells. You knew Jason was a better cook than you. But he’d never admit that. He loved everything you’d make for him. Hell, if you made him a burnt piece of toast he’d guzzle it down and tell you it was the best he’s ever had.

Occasionally, he’s taking his hands off you to assist you with something. As he passes you on his way to the fridge for some eggs, he'll be sure to pop a quick kiss on the top of your head, and again when he’s coming back too.

He's always reminding you of the love he feels for you. It manifests in small physical actions: a kiss to your skin, a hand on your waist, a squeeze to your backside.

It’s like Jason just can’t help it — can’t contain himself. He’s bursting at the edges with love for you. And he may not be the best at verbally expressing it, but you never have to question how he feels.

He’ll show you subconsciously every day, within every little touch.

#jason todd x reader #jason todd #jason todd x y/n #jason todd x you #jason todd fanfiction #jason todd blurb #jason todd imagine #red hood #red hood x reader #red hood x you #batfam #batfam imagine #dc imagine #batfam fanfic #jason todd x fem!reader #first post #jason being the best boyfriend #i love jason todd

[bahablastplz]

Cosmic Love: Chan x Reader x Felix

A night at the club turns into a lot more than you anticipated, all thanks to a stupid text that you don't even remember sending. The next day, Chan and Felix invite you over for dinner. That's all it is, right? Content: Smut, minor angst, fluff Warnings: Use of petnames 'love,' and 'babygirl,' threesome, fingering, oral (f! and m! receiving), p in v sex, lots of praise, spanking (barely), humiliation/second hand embarrassment WC: 4700

It starts like this: 

Chan texts you the morning after you go to the club. Of course, you’re hungover out of your mind, but that’s to be expected. On Saturday morning, or afternoon you suppose, you roll out of bed with a loud groan, a pulsing headache making its way behind your eyes. 

You notice that your makeup has been removed and you’re now sporting clothes much comfier than your dress and heels that were suffocating you last night at the club. Your phone is also plugged in, and you have been notorious for waking up with a dead phone the morning after waking up from a night out. 

You have half the mind to wonder, how the hell were you cognizant enough last night to do all of this? You certainly don’t remember it. It all makes sense when you check your notifications, screen a little too bright for your liking, and see that Chan had texted you an hour ago. 

Channie: Hey babygirl  I don’t know if you remember, but Felix and I brought you home last night~  You were pretty fucked up haha  If you’re feeling up to it, you want to join us for dinner tonight at my place?  Me you and Lix  Hope you’re feeling okay this morning. Let us know if you need anything, yeah? 

You groan. Of course Chan and Felix brought you home last night, that makes so much more sense. Chan has always been a natural caretaker, and if he was at the club last night and you tried to go home with some random guy or even take an Uber, he surely would have become overprotective and offered to take you home himself. 

Your heart pangs when you read the text again. Babygirl. The pet name makes it easy to remember the major crush you’ve been harboring for him for forever. Him and Felix both, honestly. You really really hope you didn’t say anything embarrassing last night that you can’t remember. That would be just your luck, honestly. Taking a deep breath, you make a note to take some Advil as you text him back. 

Y/N: Thanks so much  I’ll be there! Can’t wait 

He texts you back almost instantly: 

Channie:  Sick  We’re super excited 

A red flag should have raised over the fact that, though him and Felix were your closest friends, they almost never invited you over to their place. They almost always come over to yours when you hang out, and hangouts usually happen more organically. You brush the thought aside, chalking it up to Chan’s protective nature and need to make sure you’re okay after what was likely a rough night out. 

That’s all it is, right? 

You’re only giddy because of this stupid crush on your friends you can’t quite push away. There’s not anything more going on and there’s no lines to read between. You repeat this like a mantra as you get ready tonight, putting on just a little bit of makeup (for no reason in particular!!!), and repeat it once more as you knock on Chan’s door, bottle of wine in hand. 

He opens the door with a large smile, all teeth, that makes your heart beat a little faster. When you hand him the bottle of wine you’re met with a hearty laugh. “You sure you didn’t have enough of this last night?” he teases. You shove his chest lightly, giving him a devilish grin.

“What if I brought it for you?” You quip back. 

“I think we were imagining a type of fun that didn’t involve alcohol.” You give him a smile at his words, brows furrowing for a second before brushing off his words. He probably just means they intend to stay sober tonight. You’ve had plenty of nights that were fun that didn’t involve alcohol, so that’s all he meant by his words! Shrugging, you put the wine in the fridge instead of cracking it open, taking his advice to save the drink for another day. 

Dinner is amazing. Chan made it with Felix’s observation, as according to Chan the other shouldn’t be allowed in the kitchen ever again. You laugh as he dives into several stories of baking incidents gone wrong, including a time that Felix and Seungmin ended up burning everything they made. You defend your friend, telling Chan that Felix ‘does make killer brownies,’ which the other can’t argue with. It’s decided that Felix should do most of his cooking alone, as anytime he cooks with anybody else it ends up in a minor disaster. Felix looks thoroughly flushed and embarrassed by the end of your conversation so the two of you relent on your teasing. 

You decide on a movie. It’s not even really that entertaining and you’re barely paying attention if you’re being honest. It’s some movie you’d seen a hundred times before. You find your place between Chan and Felix, your body squished between your two friends. You nuzzle your head into Chan’s shoulder and prop your legs up onto Felix. You’re comfortable, very much so, though you tense for a second when you feel Felix’s hand rest on your thigh. You can also feel Chan’s breath on your neck, and you suddenly feel hot. Very hot. 

You hope they can’t feel how warm to the touch you’ve become, and at such a simple action at that. Are you really that pathetic? God, your crush on them has gotten out of hand, you think, but when Felix’s hand raises further up your thigh and starts rubbing teasing circles you’re not so sure this is all in your head anymore. Chan has always been touchy with you and Felix moreso, but this is just a little bit out of character for them. You’re worried to speak up for a second, scared that your words would make Felix retract his hand. When he looks up at you with an inquisitorial gaze, however, you can’t help the words that spill from your mouth. “Lix–” 

You’re not prepared for the words that come from the man behind you. 

“Tell me, Y/N,” Chan says lowly. “Do you want me to fuck you nice and hard?” He punctuates his words and your body physically tenses. Your world has come to a full stop. 

“What?” 

“Do you want me to–” 

“I… I heard you,” you interrupt. “I’m just… I’m not quite sure what you mean.” You feel afraid to look up at Chan from behind you, and you certainly don’t look at Felix; though his hand has stilled, it still rests firmly on your thigh. 

“I don’t know if you remember this,” Chan says. His demeanor has changed, and you’re met with a chuckle and a deep breath. He seems very shy compared to the man just seconds ago speaking into your ear. “Last night when you were at the club, you texted me and Lix in a group chat.” 

Fuck. 

That makes so much more sense, you think. No way would you have gotten that fucked up without doing something you would regret. You reach for your phone but a hand rests on top of yours, stilling your movement. 

“No, it’s okay,” he says in response to your panic. “I already have it pulled up. I was thinking I could read it to you.” 

“Chan, I’m sorry, I’m sure I didn’t–” 

He shushes you. For some reason sparks shoot up your spine at the action. You purse your lips shut, an action that implies your silence and you wait for him to continue. 

“Last night you were dancing with us,” he starts. “You were drunk out of your mind. I think you knew that already. But you texted Lix and I, and we could just tell you had enough to drink so we offered to take you home. But while we were in the car,” he laughs lightly. You don’t feel like laughing back, “While we were in the car, you texted us. It wasn’t meant for us, but you told us some things that you wanted us to, um, do to you.” 

“That’s not the worst part,” Felix provides unhelpfully. You glare at the man and he smiles sweetly. “Chris’ phone was connected to bluetooth and it read your texts out loud in the car.” 

You groan. Thank God you were drunk enough last night to not remember that because you’re not sure you can even relive the memory. In fact, even now you wish for the world to split open and swallow you whole. 

“Emmaaaaa,” Chan starts, reading your texts out loud in a voice that is obviously meant to resemble your own. You realize now that the text was meant for your best friend, the one that you use to hopelessly rant to about your strong unrequited crush for the two boys in question. 

“God they’re so finee  I want Channie and Lixie so bad fr  I just want them to ruin me  You know I’ve never been fucked right but I want Chan to just fuck me nice and hard ughhshh  I know you’re so tired of hearing me talk about this  But he’s so perfect I just know he could fuck me up sooo good  And Felix? I just want him to whisper filthy things in my ears With his perfect voice  He looks like such an angel I just want to see what he’s really like, if he’ll fuck me soft or nice and hard like Channie  I need them both to ruin me!!!! You don’t understand If I don’t get someone’s cock in my mouth–” 

“Oh my god that’s enough,” you interrupt. You’re not sure you can listen to another second of past-you embarrassing yourself, and you tell him as much when you shoot out of his grasp and turn around to look at him. He has a sly fucking grin on his mouth and you can’t help but feel like you’re the butt of a joke you didn’t ask to be a part of. “I… I can’t listen to you embarrass me anymore. I’m so sorry about what I said and I really didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable. Hell, you know I don’t even remember it, and I know that really doesn’t excuse it but I hope you know I never wanted to ruin our friendship. I know you guys don’t feel the same way so if you want, I can go and–” 

Chan puts his hands around your shoulders, halting your movements when you try to stand. 

“Woah woah woah, babygirl,” he says, trying to interrupt your sad attempt at salvaging your relationship. “It’s not what you think, actually. You could never ruin your friendship with us, okay?” You feel tears prick at your eyes, truly humiliated with how the night has progressed. Even now, Chan is here trying to be nice to you so you won’t feel bad about what happened which is somehow even more humiliating. 

“Did you really mean what you said?” Felix says, finally. 

“Can I even take it back now?” you say, laughing sardonically. “You know, drunk actions are sober thoughts, or whatever they say? I’m so sorry, again. Like I said, if you want me to leave I can.” Your eyes flit between Felix and Chan, gauging for a reaction, any sense that they may be uncomfortable with your actions. You’re surprised to find none. 

“If you really meant it,” Chan says, inhaling through his teeth and clicking his tongue on the roof of his mouth, “Then we kind of had a proposal for you.” 

“What kind of proposal?” you ask suspiciously. 

“The kind where maybe we have sex? All three of us,” he suggests. 

What. 

What?

“What!?” Your brain supplies the only word it can think of. This is a joke, right? Your feelings that have been unrequited for so long are being reciprocated this casually? You stare blankly at the two men who are waiting for some sort of response. 

“I… I’m not sure if I can,” you answer finally. Though everything in your body is telling you yes yes yes, the arousal already pooling in between your legs, your brain finally seems to be the one in the forefront making the decisions. “I can’t do that, have ‘just sex’ with you. Either of you. And maybe I’m about to make a fool of myself even more tonight, but I have to admit that my feelings for you both run a lot deeper than just… sexual.” You let out a heavy sigh when you finally admit the truth. “I’m scared that I won’t be able to detach my emotions from it all, and I really don’t want to ruin what we have going on.” 

You’re met with silence and you open your eyes but don’t look at either of them, instead opting to look at the floor. Did Chan get a new carpet? It looks really nice–

“I don’t think it would be ‘just sex,’ babygirl.” Chan and that goddamned pet name that makes your heart flutter. “We’ve, uh, both liked you for a very long time. And we want this to go further, if you’re interested of course.” 

For the second time in one night, you feel as if the world has tilted on its axis. Maybe it has, because you feel a little bit dizzier now and your heart beats a little bit faster than it did just seconds ago. 

“Are you sure?” you ask, worrying your lip between your teeth. Felix takes his thumb and pulls your lip out from between your teeth, his thumb lingering for a second before pushing into your mouth. Your eyes close and your tongue swirls around the appendage. 

“Do you want this, love?” The deep timbre of his voice sends shivers down your spine and your eyes open, meeting his gaze. For a second, it feels as if nothing but you and Felix exist in this entire world, and you ponder his words for a second. If they really mean it and they have both liked you for a while now, you don’t have to worry about separating feelings from sex. You ponder what this means for your relationships going forward for a second but the pulsing need between your legs and the way your breath hitches when his thumb pushes further into your mouth tells you all you need to know. You want this. You nod your head and know it’s the right choice when you’re met with a reassuring smile. 

“If you’re sure, then we’re sure,” Chan says from beside you. You feel his fingers on your leg, veiny hands rubbing small circles on the expanse of your thigh. When he grips the plush of your thigh hard you can’t help the gasp that comes from your mouth, and Felix’s thumb releases from your mouth, wet with your saliva. You feel his hand come to rest on your face as he caresses you softly, brushing a stray hair away from your face as he leans in to kiss you. 

You breathe into the kiss but let him take the lead, soft and plush lips delicate against your own. When his tongue barely brushes your bottom lip you’re already opening your mouth for him eagerly, letting his tongue come into contact with yours. The kiss is passionate but almost too romantic for what you’re about to let him do to you. When you moan into the kiss he deepens it, hands pulling your face even closer to his own. 

You note the movement on the couch next to you and Chan taps your shoulder. When you turn your head to look at him he’s crashing his lips into yours in a bruising kiss, messy and desperate and it catches you off guard but you return his advances eagerly, lips and tongue moving expertly against one anothers. 

Felix’s hand comes and snakes around your waist, stopping your kiss just long enough to lift your shirt over your head. His warm breath hits your neck and it’s all you can focus on besides Chan’s wet tongue against yours, but then Felix’s fingers rub your nipples over the fabric of your bra and you’re keening backwards into his touch, running away while simultaneously trying to get more at the same time. 

When Chan finally breaks the kiss it’s with a groan and a long string of saliva connects you, wet and dirty. He sits back and admires the work that Felix is doing, having you come completely undone for him with just his fingers against your still clothed breasts. It’s Chan that reaches and unclasps your bra, leaving you utterly exposed in front of the two men in front of you and he wastes no time before joining Felix in his ministrations. 

The teasing becomes too much, tongue and teeth and pinching over your abused breasts, and at this point you’re not sure how much more squeezing of your thighs together you can do before it comes to much. 

“Please,” you breathe, and you’re not even quite sure what you’re asking for. 

“Please what, babygirl?” Chan coos at you, words laced with a teasing lilt. You reach forward and grab his hand and it’s like your breath stops when you place his hand right between your legs where you need him the most. “Want me to touch you?” He asks. His breathing is heavy and you admire his attempt at trying to keep his composure. 

“Yes, please,” you nod, eyes never leaving his. Not even when his hand cups your clothed pussy and you buck up into him with a cry. Felix shifts from behind you and pulls your back into his chest as Chan reaches down to pull down your shorts with one swift motion. 

You’re completely bare for them now, and you have little time to dwell on this fact before Felix grabs your legs and spreads them open, hooking them over his own. His hands rest on your thighs, holding you into place and giving Chan access to your sopping core. 

“God, babygirl you’re soaked,” Chan notes, two fingers swiping in between your folds. You can hear it, the wetness pooled between your legs, but when he leans his face forward and meets his tongue with your clit you can’t help the surprise that creeps from your throat. 

He’s relentless, his tongue flicking and circling your clit mercilessly. Your legs shake and try to close but are held open by Felix’s own. 

You look up at the man behind you with teary eyes and open mouth, thinking about asking him to give you mercy but the expression on his face tells you all you need to know. He’s enjoying this just as much as Chan is. 

“Does that feel good?” he asks into your ear. 

“Yes, oh my god,” you tell him as his lips come down to meet yours in a short peck. They ultimately land on your neck, nipping at the junction between your neck and ear. 

“Tell me how good,” he instructs. “Tell me how good he’s making you feel.” 

“So good, Felix, oh,” you moan. Two of Chan’s fingers thrust into you, in motion with the way that his tongue abuses your clit and it’s already too much. “God, Felix, he’s making me feel so good. He’s… He’s eating me out so good, his tongue feels…oh my–” you know you’re babbling but you can’t help the moan that interrupts your words. Felix shushes you, and you think his hands are going to find place in your hair to soothe you but instead they make way to your breasts, still sensitive from just minutes prior. 

His thumb and pointer finger pinch your nipples between his fingers, tugging and twisting them. Your back arches at his touch and your skin prickles at his low voice in your ear. 

“You’re doing so, so good for us, love. Fuck, you’re being so good letting Channie eat your pussy like that,” he says. One hand comes to grab the flesh at your hip, kneading it as he continues to tease your pebbled nipple between his fingers. “Do you like being good for us?” 

“Yes, fuck, fuck, I like being good for you,” you cry out. “Love it so much, oh my god–” and as Chan’s fingers curl up inside of you, you find your orgasm being ripped out of you with no warning. You’re cumming hard around his fingers, pulsing tightly as he lets you ride out your high on his face. Behind you Felix takes to setting a slow pace in rubbing his hands up and down your body, grounding you with his touch as he whispers praises in your ears. 

When you finally open your eyes again, you truly feel like you have woken up in a different dimension. 

“Holy fuck–” you rasp, noting when Felix wipes a tear from your eyes you hadn’t realized you had shed. 

“Do you think you can take us, babygirl?” Chan asks as he pulls his fingers from your center. He reaches across your body to offer his soaking fingers to Felix, who eagerly takes them in his mouth for the chance to taste you. You don’t miss the way he moans around Chan’s fingers. 

“Yes,” you say softly. “Want you both.” 

Felix reaches down and kisses you, much more comfortable this time with the way that he allows himself to be rougher with you, pushing his tongue into your mouth with a boldness that was lacking earlier. When you pull apart you notice the large hands on your waist that aren’t his and you’re being flipped around by Chan before you can process it. Your ass is up in the air and you’re on all fours now, squeaking when Chan lands a quick hit to your ass and kneads the flesh. 

When you tilt your head up to look at Felix you notice him pulling his pants and boxers down past his thighs, letting his cock spring free and resting at your face. He taps it against your cheek and he looks down at you, silently checking to make sure  you’re okay. Looking up at him with bright wide eyes you blink, asking him for permission as you open your mouth wide for him. 

He pushes in with a groan, letting his cock rest on your tongue for a second. You suckle on his tip and let your tongue swirl around his head, watching how reactive he is with amusement. Even though you haven’t fully started sucking him off yet he is breathy, eyes dark in the way he looks at you and strokes your hair. 

He pushes his length further into your mouth and you groan, taking him fully. He sets the pace, slow and languid, pulling his cock fully out of your mouth before shoving it back in with expertise. 

You barely register the hands behind you that grab your ass until you feel Chan’s tip prodding at your entrance, barely pushing inside you. You let out a shaky breath around Felix and Chan takes that as a sign to push into you fully. 

The stretch is welcoming. Your jaw goes slack as you take a moment to process the protrusion, clenching tightly around him as he stills. Felix uses your mouth now, setting the rhythm for the man behind you as well. Relaxing, you let yourself be used by both of the men. You feel Chan’s thighs smack the back of yours, wet and messy and relentless. This causes you to jerk forward, pushing you back and forth onto Felix’s cock. Chan’s hands press into your hips, desperate and harsh and sure to leave bruises in its wake.

“God, love, your mouth,” Felix moans. His hand in your hair is soft in its caresses, contradictory from the way his hips snap into your face ruthlessly. “You’re doing so fucking good for us, baby. This is what you wanted, isn’t it? For Chan to fuck you nice and hard, yeah? For me to whisper filthy things in your ear?” 

You do what you can to nod your head, though it’s pathetic with the way your mouth is full of him. You know you look utterly debauched, absolutely used from the two men you’ve found yourself in between. The mascara you applied before is running down your face along with tears of pleasure, and you find yourself continuously blinking them away to look up at Felix. Your hands find place on the bed beside you, fingers curling into the sheets. You’re close, incredibly so, and you know it’s not much longer until you come over the edge. 

Felix lets out a low groan and you feel his cock twitch in your mouth. With a sharp grasp on your hair he spills into your mouth, right down your throat in hot spurts. You swallow around him thickly and he pulls out, wiping a bit of spit off of your mouth with his thumb. 

You fall forward into Felix’s lap, arching your back in order to give Chan full access to your dripping hole. He takes full advantage of it, fucking into you with reckless abandon. Now that your mouth is free, you have full opportunity to speak–though, the only thing that comes out of your mouth now are loud moans and broken, choked sobs. 

“Chan, fuck, oh my, I’m gonna cum, fuck I’m gonna come–” you babble. 

“Sweet girl, is he fucking you stupid?” Felix asks, wrapping his arms around you and making you look into his eyes. When you meet his gaze you nod your head sporadically. 

Chan grunts from behind you, his hips starting to stutter. “Fuck, Lix. I’m close,” he warns. “Touch her pretty clit for me, make her cum for us.” Felix does as instructed, snaking his hand down to where Chan pushes in and out between your bodies. “So good, love. Cum for us,” he says into your ear. 

His fingers barely brush your clit when you’re cumming hard around Chan’s cock, squeezing around his length hard. He rocks his hips into yours, helping you ride out your release before he pulls out and cums all over your ass. You’re whining and clutching onto Felix, though you don’t realize it; his hand runs small circles onto your back. When he looks down at you it’s as if you hung the stars, gaze so full of adoration that your heart batters against your chest in response loud enough that he very well might hear it. 

Somewhere behind you, Chan leaves and then returns with something to clean you up. You only know this when you feel the soft material on your back and you let out a grunt of appreciation. Chan sits next to you now, spooning you from the side where you lay across Felix’s body. 

“Are you okay?” Chan speaks softly. 

You scoff. “I just fucked the two people I’ve been in love with for years. You think I’m not okay?” 

“Love. You love us?” Felix asks. 

You laugh. You can’t help it, because how the fuck do you keep on embarrasing yourself like this? It’s as if they can read your mind, because before you can backtrack or word-vomit they’re already speaking. 

“I don’t know if I made this clear,” Chan starts. “But my feelings for you, they’re strong. I love you too. It’s nothing to be ashamed of.” 

“Same here, love. We’ve wanted this for forever. If you’ll let us have you, we want you to be ours.” He whispers a soft ‘I love you’ into your hair and you find yourself overcome with emotion. 

The movie is still playing on the TV. It makes you laugh when you realize something. 

“Did you both seriously invite me over for dinner just so you could seduce me?” 

“Hey hey!” Chan laughs, tickling your side for a moment. “You’re the one that begged for us to ruin you, babygirl. Did you get what you wanted?” 

“I don’t know,” you say, pretending to be in thought. “I’m not feeling super ruined at the moment.” 

“That can be arranged.” 

*** Last installment of the threesome series <3 Thank you everyone for reading. If you want to check out the other three chapters, you can find them in my masterlist.

Taglist: @lolareadsimagines @elizalabs3 @chvn-max

#skz #skz smut #skz x reader #skz x you #stray kids #stray kids smut #stray kids x reader #stray kids x you #kpop smut #kpop x reader #chan x reader #bang chan #chan smut #chan #bang chan x reader #bang chan smut #christopher bang #felix #lee felix #skz felix #stray kids felix #felix x reader #felix x y/n #felix x you #chan x y/n #chan x you #chan x female reader

[hcdwigs]

✧.* nanami headcanons <3

He hums/sings while showering and feels embarrassed when confronted about it.

When someone he enjoys talking to speaks to him, he usually appears serious, but his expression is always unreadable. The expression conveys pure fondness for the person!! He enjoys hearing them ramble about their day, their lives, etc. He gives them a warm look.

Definitely a listener more than a rambler. He listens to people all the time, and remembers the small details about them. He tends to bring them up sometimes, which surprises the other person. But, he is extremely attentive to detail and loves getting to know people.

You know how in Korean dramas, the male lead is always a jack of all trades or something? Nanami is exactly that guy. Need assistance with your plumbing? He is there. Do you need to fix a lightbulb? He is there. Need help building a house? He is there.

He plays an instrument. He would play either the piano, violin, or flute.

He definitely enjoys watching movies in his spare time. When he is not doing anything, he enjoys watching movies. If he existed in the modern world, he would for sure have a Letterboxd account.

In a Modern AU, Nanami would undoubtedly be an English/History major. I do not care what anyone says. Maybe philosophy or business. But he would be one of those fine humanities majors you notice and immediately fall for.

Books are his specialty. He probably has several places where he goes to relax and read a book he recently purchased.

Speaking of books, if he gets a partner, he will read to them. He would cuddle them in bed, holding them in his arms while he read silently to them, pressing his lips against their ear, the soft, deep tone of his voice sounding like a musical masterpiece in their ear.

Pottery!! He enjoys pottery so much. He probably went to a pottery event/class when he was bored (he failed, the bowl looked like a deformed apple) but he really enjoyed the process. He definitely began to watch more videos on pottery and probably got himself a pottery wheel.

He is definitely an animal lover. he doesn't look like it, but he loves, LOVES, LOVES animals. If he sees a dog, his heart flutters but he doesn't touch it just in case. But, he's an animal attractor of course. The dogs are all over him at the dog park, and he smiles a little while petting them.

Speaking of animals, he probably has a cat. The cat is named after a food for sure. It is most definitely a type of bread or sandwich or a nut. For example, Pistachio or Baguette.

Super gentle with children. He genuinely enjoys being around them. Ask him about having children He will Be On Board.

HE WOULD NOT BE MEAN. The amount of people I have seen mischaracterize him by making him mean just because he's serious. No. He is just introverted and serious and needs to be comfortable around a person.

During relationships, he genuinely enjoys checking in on the person he is dating. He is always there for them, comforting, cherishing, and listening. He tries to get off work as soon as possible so that he can spend time with his significant other.

If he is shown too much affection, he does not snap or become angry with the person. He just blushes. He just lets out a soft "hm" and pretends to be serious, but his heart is racing, and his cheeks, ears, and neck indicate otherwise. He also gives them a slightly surprised look that quickly turns to his stoic look.

He definitely bought baby shoes at a store just because he thought they were so cute. Mans just wants a baby.

He would be both a girl and a boy dad. I do not care what anyone says; he loves both. If he has a son, he will do everything in his power to raise him as a gentleman while also showing him a lot of love and affection. If he has a daughter, he will be so gentle with her while also raising her to be a sophisticated, strong young woman.

Genuinely would be the grandpa of the friend group. Come on. Just look at him.

As a teenager, he probably would do the emo hair flip thing because his fringe kept getting onto his eye. Gojo probably laughed his ass off.

Secretly really touch-starved. People think he is not affectionate, but he is, just not in public. He would most likely grab his significant other while they were doing something and attack them with kisses. He probably likes being a little spoon sometimes even though he looks like an old man. He is clingy, okay? But not overly clingy. Sometimes he needs his own space.

Loves kissing their partner's beauty moles. The ones under their nose, the ones on their ear, the ones on scattered around their face, the ones in other areas... Wherever they are located, he will kiss them.

Sometimes he needs to be reassured. He needs to know if he is doing okay, if he is treating a person well. It looks like he does not need it, but he genuinely sometimes gets insecure about how others perceive him or how well he treats them. He worries about hurting someone's feelings.

Loves to try and hype up his partner with extreme amount of compliments. He is truly the number one simp and hype man.

I am a strong advocate for the fact that Nanami loves people of color. Like he will date a person of color. I don't CARE. I am Afro-Latina let me have my headcanon in peace : (

Once again. He is NOT mean. He will not yell. If he is angry, he is calm. He does not yell and if he does it is extremely rare. But he would never in his life yell at his partner or children if he has any. The only way he shows disappointment is by staying calm.

Speaking of being angry, he is not the type to show silent treatment. He would much rather talk rather than give a cold shoulder. He is a grown man. He knows how to communicate, people.

Old-fashioned nicknames. That is all. My love. Darling. Sweetheart.

He is probably fluent in several languages. I understand he is overly perfect, but he is perfect in my eyes. He probably takes the time to learn languages so that people feel included. Plus, he genuinely enjoys learning about different cultures.

Owned a bakery or worked as a chef at some point in his life. Maybe even a barista.

Helps old ladies cross the street, assists people with heavy bags, is courteous to his neighbors, and is the grandson of every old neighbor ever.

Probably is the type of guy to sit down on the couch and not try at Just Dance, and ends up winning.

Despite being serious, he would genuinely be bad at the game Among Us. This is so random but hear me out.

Favorite ice cream flavor is probably coffee or pistachio. Maybe even basic vanilla. He is not a big fan anyway.

Jazz music, classical music, old music is his speciality. In high school during his emo hair era he more so listened to 90s rock/punk rock.

His most used app(s) on his Samsung Galaxy S24 Ultra is WhatsApp and Candy Crush.

Definitely has a whole closet of clothing and browses through them every night to see what suit he wants to wear for the next day.

When he shops or gets food, he goes to local family owned shops. He does not go to Starbucks for his coffee. He goes to the local family owned coffee shop.

Dry texter but if he gets a partner who is not a dry texter, he genuinely begins to pick up their habits. If they type with emojis he begins using emojis. I apologize but he'd unironically use the laughing crying emoji. "Haha! 😂". Okay but genuinely, he would actually keyboard slam at some point. He sends them a photo, they go like "jshekehdkehdjdlsjdl" and one time they did the same thing and he was like:

"....Kshskshdjxbsnab." You know?

He is low key sassy. He was affected by sassy man apocalypse. He hides it in that serious exterior of his but he gives the biggest side eyes sometimes, crosses his legs too.

Snores like a dad. Bro was probably recorded by Haibara while he was in the dorms and bro was snoring like a regular ol dad. Drooling too. What a silly guy.

Anyway...

Overall, the best man ever. He is the man ever and that is why he is not real. Unfortunately.

forever angel <33

#jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen x reader #nanami x reader #nanami x you #nanami headcanons #nanami kento #kento nanami #nanami kento headcanons #kento nanami headcanons #nanami kento x reader #nanami kento x you #kento nanami x reader #kento nanami x you #jjk #jjk headcanons #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen headcanons #my hcs #nanami hcs #i love him #the love of my life #i need him so bad #i wish he was real #why isn't he real #whyyyy #i'm crying #i love you nanami #my current hyperfixation #he will be the death of me #i am obsessed with him

[ih34rt-alphatxuri]

Getting out of her shell

table of contents/pairing: oscar piastri x reader

summary: she had big shoes to fill at Mercedes and the added pressure of being a rookie, she knew that. On top of that, she was finding it hard to open up with the media, the rest of the grid, even her own teammate. All it took was a little push from a certain papaya driver to get her out of her shell...

warnings: mentions of a crash and alcohol (also I refuse to proof read, so sorry !!)

message from A☆: I swear I've been working on this on and off for months !! This ones a pretty long one, so grab a snack and a drink, plus I'm super proud of this fic, and I really hope you enjoy...

"She's like a ghost in the motorhome, I swear. If she doesn't need to be anywhere she's just alone in her driver's room with her headphones in." George said with a scoff, talking with Alex, Logan, and Oscar about his new teammate.

"She's even like that outside, I mean, look at her now..." Alex pointed over to Y/N, and he had a point. The new Mercedes driver was always alone in the paddock, but she never felt lonely. Well, at least not all the time. It was in Y/N's nature, she was a very reserved and quiet person, always had been. She was leaning against a wall, separated from the other drivers who were all talking with each other before the drivers parade began. She has her headphones in, as usual, and seemed to be staring at something no one else could see. Oscar looked at her for a little longer than he should've, he felt a little pang in his chest, but he pushed the feeling away.

"Mate...Oscar, snap out of it" Logan said while snapping at Oscar to retrieve him from his trance.

Seconds later, they were all called to board the vehicle of the parade, and Oscar still kept looking at her. He looked at her as if she was a riddle he wanted to solve, he wanted to know why she was so quiet. But that would never happen, right?

---

It was lap 10 of the Grand Prix, it'd barely started. Oscar was in P8, Y/N close behind him. They hadn't even reached turn 4 when their cars go wheel to wheel. Only Oscar comes out unscathed. Y/N's car veers off the track, just barely bumping the barriers. Minutes later, she's out of the car, physically fine but inside she wants to start sobbing.

"Is she ok? Is she out of the car yet?" Oscar asks over his team radio, the slightest hint of guilt in his voice.

"Don't worry Oscar, she's out and ok...more importantly, are you ok? Is you car fine?" His engineer chimes in over the radio. Oscar says everything is fine, but he still feels like something is off.

Back in the Mercedes paddock, Y/N is being checked up on. The crash wasn't horrible, but even that slight impact could've caused injury. She's antsy the whole time, wanting to go hide in her driver's room until the day was over. She put too much pressure on herself, she knew that, but she couldn't help it. She was the only rookie on the grid, and on top of that she had replaced the Lewis Hamilton. She'd be insane if she didn't beat herself up at least a little bit...but there was something different about this time. It was like she had the weight of the world on her shoulders and it was suffocating her with a crushing force. As soon as the medic and Toto gave her the ok, she ran off to her driver's room as fast as she could. Once there she closed the door frantically, slid down to the floor and just started sobbing. It's not like she had anyone to turn to, she wasn't even friends with her own teammate, this was one of those times when she did feel lonely in the paddock. And there wasn't much she could do about it.

----

The race was over by then, Oscar placed P6. Sure, he was happy to be in the points, but there was still something wrong. He saw Y/N as the post race interviews, he notice how her eyes looked a little redder, her lashes clumped together in that way they do when someone's been crying. She'd been crying. He could tell. Another wave of guilt washed over him, but he was quickly snapped out of his daydream by a journalist pointing a microphone at him.

All the drivers make their rounds with the interviews, media necessities, post race debriefs with their teams, and they've reached the point in the night when everyone is leaving the paddock. As Oscar's leaving, he sees Y/N leaving too, she looked tired. He had to apologize. So he caught up to her and tapped her on the shoulder.

"Y/N, hey, I just wanted to see if you're ok..." He said a little breathlessly.

"Oh no, no, I'm fine, really, it's fine" She says with a bit of a shake in her voice, but her face said otherwise. Her eyes looked tired and she looked deflated.

"I know it's not...come on, you can tell me." He said in a soft tone, he didn't have to apologize or even speak to her, but something in his heart told him he needed to.

"I just feel so much pressure...and it's not like the team or Toto is on my ass, it's all just in my head. And social media. But it's just so hard when I replaced the fucking Lewis Hamilton! Plus the fact that I'm the only rookie and a girl for that mater...it's just all too much." She said with a sigh. "And I mean, have you seen the shit people say about me on the internet? It's just...exhausting." She punctuated her sentence with a groan. "And the crash made all my emotions just kind of blow up in my face...I'm sorry." She took a deep breath, rubbing her face.

"There's no need to be sorry, Y/N. Just know you can always talk to me...ok? In fact, let me give you my number, just incase." He gestured for her to give him her phone, so she opened the messages app and gave it to him. He typed in his number and sent himself a text, then gave her phone back and promptly got out his so he could save her number.

"You know you don't have to be this nice to me, right?" She looked up at him with slightly furrowed brows.

"I know, but I want to...I'll see you around Y/N." He gave her a soft smile and headed towards the paddock's exit, she just watched him leave with a confused smile on her face. Now, maybe she wasn't so lonely after all.

----

Her and Oscar became fast friends, she reminded him of himself earlier into his rookie season. She was so shy and reserved, to some maybe she even seemed stoic, but deep down she was a really kind and funny person. And maybe that wasn't all Oscar liked about Y/N. He loved the way her eyes lit up when she talked about racing or anything she really loved, her little nervous tics and that face she'd make when she was really concentrated, he loved every little thing about her. Now when they hung around together in the paddock, he was almost like her guard dog (and also her social crutch, but that's besides the point !). He really helped her open up to the other drivers, even if she didn't become best friends with all of them. And most importantly, he was always there for her when everything just felt too much, he was always the first person she'd call. And he loved that feeling, of knowing it was him who could comfort her when nothing else could. It made him feel close to her. But something still made his cheeks flush and chest tingle when he was close to her. Maybe he didn't want to be just friends. But at the same time, he knew nothing could truly happen. At least that's what he thought.

It was much later in the season now, in fact it was already over and it was almost time for the FIA prize giving ceremony. Oscar hadn't won anything, but Y/N got rookie of the year. She was nervous for the ceremony, that's for sure, even if he had helped her get out of her shell. But she had a great idea as to how to calm her nerves, and that's when she called Oscar.

"Hey!" She said as Oscar picked up.

"Y/N, hey, what's up?"

"So you know how I'm really nervous about the whole prize ceremony thing?"

"Mhm"

"Can you come with me? Not as a date, I mean you would technically be my date...but like my plus one, as friends!" She rambled a bit nervously.

"I'd love to Y/N." He said with a chuckle.

"You don't have to-"

"I want to Y/N, you know I don't mind"

"Ok then...my dress is green, obviously. But you can just wear black if you want."

"Alright, perfect." He chuckled into the phone.

"Ok, I'll text you more info later, bye!"

"Bye..." He said as Y/N hung up, he couldn't wait.

----

It was the night of the Prize Giving Ceremony, and Y/N was a nervous wreck. She was so thankful to have Oscar with her, who held her hand the entire time. She looked stunning in the emerald green gown she had on, Oscar had a basic black suit that was tailored perfectly to his body. The ceremony itself went very smoothly, and as it got later the real fun began. Y/N and Oscar drank and danced the night away, but as she drank more, Y/N's thoughts just started to pour out with no filter. It wasn't until they were walking back to the hotel that she truly began to ramble.

"I don't really know why you agreed to this, I mean, I am such a loser." she giggled.

"You're not a loser, Y/N, far from it actually."

"Oscar, you're my only friend, and anyways I don't even know why. I feel like I cling to you too much, and I'm annoying, an-"

"Y/N you're no-" He gently held her biceps to make her face him as he spoke, but he was then cut off by her.

"I am though, I am, and everyone else knows it too. I shouldn't have replaced Lewis, I-" She continued to ramble, until Oscar cut her off.

"Look Y/N, I love you, ok?I just...you're so perfect and beautiful and talented, and it's just not fair that you're so insecure." He said with his hands still gripping her biceps. Her cheeks were flushed, partially from the alcohol, and she looked up at him wide-eyed.

"I...I love you too." She said with a light, drunken giggle. That's when he finally leaned in and kissed her, it was an almost frantic kiss. Like he'd die if he didn't kiss her. She happily reciprocated it, even if she went a little softer. Thank god for the Aussie that helped her get out of her shell.

#f1 #f1 x reader #oscar piastri #oscar piastri x reader #oscar piastri x you #oscar piastri x y/n #oscar piastri imagine

[yanfeiimain]

"Sure, I'll play along" - Aventurine x Reader

c/w: not nsfw, suggestive at most! Aventurine saving you from your ex. strong language used.

words: 1.3k

a/n: I was literally playing, farming character exp and his voice line made my brain go boom. I'm still working on flip a coin tho so this isnt necesarily perfect >.< Possible part 2 with smut??

---

You were sitting at the casino's bar, nervously playing around with your glass. you look around carefully, checking if he followed you. There were no faces you knew. You let out a shaky breath. The bartender shoots you a glance but you pay her no mind.

As someone sits down next to you, you jump and get ready to leave. "Just leave me alone asshole. I don't-" you say, wanting to escape as fast as possible.

"There's no need to be so mean." a young man says, giving a male bartender a note. "Oh gosh, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to! I thought you were someone else…" you excuse yourself. You look at the man next to you, admiring his features. He has pretty blonde hair and captivating eyes. Your gaze lingers. And he notices.

"It's okay, don't worry." He says, smirking. "You got problems?" 

You sit back down, sighing, "Well, kinda, but what's it to you?" You continue nipping on your drink, not too sure of what to think of him. 

"Oh, nothing really, you just piqued my interest, dear," he says, "I mean, you just tried to cuss me out..." He fakes a hurt expression, swiftly changing back to his charming grin. 

He makes you smile a little, and you finally give in. "You want me to tell you about it, huh..." You take the final sip of your drink and put the glass back down. 

"Mhh, I bet it's interesting," he smirks, something glinting in his eyes. "Oh no, it's rather sad, honestly. Would you tell me your name first, though?" you ask, tilting your head slightly. You notice his fancy outfit, taking note of his extraordinary taste.

"Aventurine, pleasure to meet you..." - "y/n." - "Dearest y/n." 

They way Aventurine said your name made it sound oddly special. He certainly had a silver tounge. You feel your cheeks heat up, smiling a little wider, "Likewise, Aventurine." 

"Alright, y/n, tell me your story," he says and orders two more drinks for you both. You breathe and start telling him about your ex-fiance and how he treated you at the end of your relationship. He manipulated you and made you feel horrible. He used you as his personal servant, and every time you both went out, he belittled you and made you feel small. After a lot of thinking and gathering courage, you finally called off the engagement and left him. 

"And that's why you're so paranoid, I understand." He says, looking into your eyes. It makes you blush and feel slightly exposed. "Yeah... He's been following me, well, stalking me. Trying to get me to go back to him." Aventurine gently puts his gloved hand onto yours, and you admire his rings.

After a moment, you decided to break the silence, "Ah, but enough about me. What brings you here?" 

Aventurine hums, smiling once again, "Interested are we? But there's no special reason. I'm just here to gamble and I bet I'll win something good tonight."  He says it so nonchalantly like it's his daily life. It made sense, this is a casino after all. And there is this glint in his eyes again as he looks at you, clearly interested.

You both continue talking and order a few more drinks. The bartender watches you and probably has been listening in on your conversations but you, as well as Aventurine, pay it no mind. As the night progresses, you relax. 

However, just as you got comfortable, the alcohol playing its part, a tall figure enters the casino. You only noticed as he joins you and Aventurine at the bar, ignoring the latter. "Shit, that's him" you whisper, slightly nervous.

"Aventurine, could you help me out if he tries anything?" you feel insecure, basically asking a stranger to help you with your creepy ex. "Sure, I'll play along." Aventurine smiles. It was softer this time.

"Hey there, sweetheart, enjoying your night?" The guy on your right, your ex, says playfully, yet his face tells a different tale. He is annoyed, no, absolutely pissed off. "Oh, for the love of god, leave." you scowl. 

"Why should I? C'mon, I'm giving you one last chance to go back home with me, no consequences." he offers, but you know his disingenuous tone too well. "No way. Forget it. We are over." you deny him.

Looking to Aventurine for help, you blurt out, "And I'm already with someone who doesn't treat me like shit!" Proving your statement, Aventurine wraps his arm around you, his fingers grab your waist possessively. "Yes, that's right." 

"And who are you, peacock?" Your ex asks, looking at Aventurine with disgust, yet amusement.  "Aventurine, her lover," the blonde lies with ease, his face adorned with the usual smirk he wore so often that night.

"You whore, already sleeping around again? Have you forgotten who owns you?" he spits, insulting you like usual. The bartender starts to giggle. "Relax dude, they only just met. There's no way he would ever be with a gal like her." Aventurine shoots her a deathly glare and your ex laughs. 

"Oh my god, you are an embarresment. Get your lying ass out of here and come with me. And you, Aventurine, you should leave your dirty claws off of someone else's property." your ex scoffs.

"Ahaha... lovely but we're not playing pretend, are we?" Aventurine laughs and promptly pulls you onto his lap. You feel your stomach twist and heat creeps onto your cheeks. You now sit on his lap, facing him. You feel his soft breath on your neck as he pulls you to his chest.

"Right, darling?" You could feel his heartbeat quicken and Aventurine felt yours. "Of course not," you manage to breathe out. He lifts your chin with his gloved hand, you can feel the cold rings on your skin. They send shivers down your spine. 

Aventurine pulls you into a heated kiss, his soft lips moving against yours and you gasp in surprise, not expecting him to go so far. You melt into the kiss, completely giving in to the blonde. 

Your ex simply stares at you, his mouth slightly agape.  "Tch, that doesn't prove anything." Pretending it doesn't faze him, he rolls his eyes, the bartender scoffs as well and leaves.

You break the kiss, gasping for air. Aventurine smirks complacently and gently tucks a strand of hair behind your ear. "Whatever you say, friend." 

"Fine, have her. Just know that she is a filthy and unfaithful brat." With that, he turns around. "And this isn't over yet."

You let out a sigh of relief. He is finally gone. "What an asshole..." Aventurine mutters, making you realize what just happened.

"Oh gosh, I'm sorry! I asked for your help but you didn't have to go this far. I hope it didn't make you uncomfortable. I apologize! How could I ever thank you..." you ramble but Aventurine just cups your face and gives you a second, soft kiss. 

"No need to apologize, y/n. To be honest, I thoroughly enjoyed this night. It was certainly a nice surprise." He gently rubbed your cheek with his thumb, reassuring you. "As for how to thank me... There's no need." 

Your eyes widened, "Ah well, I'm glad you felt that way. But... Are you sure? You want nothing in return?" He shook his head, resting his other hand back on your waist. "Although, there is something you could do for me. If you want, that is." 

He grins mischievously. To be honest, he finds you alluring and wants to know get to know you. 

"Sure, what is it?" you ask, genuinely interested. "Spend the night with me."

#honkai star rail #aventurine x reader #hsr aventurine #hsr x you #x reader #x you #aventurine x you

[sirfrogsworth]

Dinner with Aunt Denise & Uncle Jeff A Tale of Science Fair Photography

Ever since my parents died my aunt and uncle have done their best to fill some of the hole left in my heart. It almost feels like they adopted me in a way. They check on me. They help me clean. They helped me sort through all of my parents' belongings. And from time to time they invite me over for dinner when I'm feeling up to it.

Last week I got a new invitation. I had been feeling pretty lonely as of late so I graciously accepted. Before I left I saw my camera sitting on the table and realized I had this fancy new lens which is especially suited for taking pictures of people.

I thought to myself...

"This lens has only taken pictures of bridges at sunset."

Which is cool and everything, but I don't really want my only photos to be of bridges at sunset. I like taking pictures of other things.

I didn't have any lighting equipment handy—just a single external flash. And without a solid plan for how I was going to use it, I quickly packed said flash and headed westward. As I saw the sun lowering in the sky above the highway my big photography brain had an idea...

"I should take pictures of *people* at sunset."

I needed a reflector of some kind to bounce my flash against. I thought poster board would probably suffice so I stopped at Walmart and headed to the arts and crafts area. I found these tri-fold poster board thingies that grade school kids use to display their science fair experiments.

I got 2 for $7!

What a deal!

After I arrived I asked if my aunt & uncle minded having their photo taken. My aunt said she was fine with it but warned me that no one had ever been able to take a decent photo of her.

I'm typically not one to be braggadocious, but I replied...

"Well, that's because you've never had your photo taken by ME."

I'm not sure I should have been so cocky considering my lighting equipment is typically used to display the life cycle of earthworms, baking soda volcanos, and... potato batteries—which was the delightful and totally real project I just found on Google.

Science Fair Entry from Billy, Age 10

After a delicious feast of bratwurst, salad, and non-electrified potatoes, I convinced my aunt and uncle to sit for a sunset photoshoot. They even helped me set up my science fair project.

Science Fair Entry from Froggie, Age 42

I decided to do a quick test indoors to make sure my plan would work. Jeff volunteered for my first experiment.

Without my contraption...

With my contraption...

I think my experiment was quite promising. But would my idea hold up outside during the sunset with constantly dimming conditions?

We moved everything to the backyard. The tri-fold poster board was a bit ornery regarding its uprightness and needed to be tamed. My Uncle Jeff used a large rock, some pillows, and a step ladder to keep the makeshift reflectors in place.

I started taking test photos without the flash to figure out the background exposure.

Those pesky power lines were going to need to be zapped later in Photoshop, but I was really digging the scenery.

I dialed everything in, started taking photos, and even on the little rear camera screen I felt like they were turning out well. With the sun setting the sky looked like it was on fire. But then the batteries died in my flash and I was starting to lose that fiery sky as darkness began to creep into view.

Unfortunately, all of the potatoes were in our bellies so my aunt scrambled to find regular batteries in the house.

This photoshoot had become a complete team effort with everyone doing their part to make it a success.

Surprisingly it was my Uncle Jeff was giving me some bona fide model poses. He just naturally has some sort of... resting model face. Very masculine and authentic. And my Aunt Denise is just pure sunshine manifested as a person. So I had no problems getting nice expressions from her.

So... would you like to see the pictures?

Will I get a blue ribbon on my science fair project?

Am I building up the suspense too much?

Okay, here we go...

I suppose the only validation I really need is from the person who has never had a decent photo taken of them.

Let's see the verdict.

All of those hours and hours of photography training helped me learn the problem solving skills I needed to pull off a photoshoot with seven dollars in supplies.

Take a small light source, bounce it off something larger, and you get a big light source.

And big light sources make people look snazzy in photographs.

Easy!

Are you kidding me?

I lost to the potato kid?

What kind of rigged nonsense...

#photography #long post

[munsonsmixtapes]

From the prompt list I am BEGGING for 14 and 48 with Eddie PLEASE 😩 (optional but it could also be so cute if he kneels down and ties readers shoe after it gets untied before reader even notices)

I love this idea! Thanks so much for the request, lovely!

Prompts used: 14. “How many times do I have to tell you that I love you before you believe it?” and 48. “I’m going to fucking worship you.”

Eddie x fem!reader

cw: MDNI 18+ oral (f receiving) wee bit of hurt/comfort

Despite being with Eddie for over a year, you still felt yourself getting insecure about your relationship. He had been your first and only boyfriend and you still weren’t used to that kind of attention or affection all the time. Other men hadn’t really even looked your way until he came around so constantly having someone treat you with so much love and care was still new.

Eddie was one of the sweetest men you had come across in your town full of assholes. He’d always pay the check when you’d go out, keep your favorite snacks in his pantry, and even lay his jacket down when you came across a puddle so your shoes wouldn’t get wet.

He was also so patient with you when you got insecure about your relationship. Any time you’d get jealous or need a little more reassurance, he’d just pull you into his arms and tell you that he loved you and that there was nothing to worry about, but that only worked for so long.

It usually got bad when you were falling asleep, your anxieties reaching their peak and getting the best of you. You’d just let it all swirl around in your mind, driving yourself mad as you laid awake, your boyfriend sound asleep next to you.

What if it was all an elaborate prank?

What if he was just lying about loving you to make you feel better?

What if he was going to break up with you because your insecurities were getting too much?

Those were the questions that haunted you even though you were sure that it was all in your head. That was really the root of the problem. It was all just unnecessary worries that your brain had come up with out of nowhere.

“And then I said-honey? You still with me?” You zoned back in and realized that you were with Eddie in his van as he was driving you home after a date. He gave your thigh a squeeze where his hand was resting on it and you turned to him.

“I’m good, Eds, I swear.” You definitely weren’t, but you didn’t want to tell him that. You couldn’t have that conversation yet again.

“No bs?” That was Eddie’s way of asking if you were lying because he knew you would just so you wouldn’t have to have the conversation. He always wanted you to feel like you could talk to him about whatever was bothering you.

“Maybe a little.” He pulled up to his trailer and and put the van in park before unbuckling his seatbelt and turning to face you.

“Alright,” he sighed. “Let’s talk inside.” He rounded the front of the van and opened the door for you. He held his hand out to you and you took it, hopping down from the seat.

Before you could get too far, Eddie stopped you and crouched down to tie your shoe. It warmed your heart that he would do stuff like that for you even when he was upset with you. It showed just how selfless he was when it came to the people he loved.

And Eddie did love you. He loved you so much that he couldn’t handle it. His heart was just so full of the feeling and it hurt him knowing that you had yet to believe that he really did feel that way about you. Maybe just one more time and you’d be sure.

Eddie led you inside the trailer and you were grateful that Wayne wasn’t home to hear you argue. Eddie kept hold of your hand, giving it a squeeze as soon as stepping closer to you. His other hand grabbed hold of your jaw, gently lifting your head so you would look up at him. His eyes bored into yours and you already knew what he was going to say and you didn’t want to hear it.

“How many times do I have to tell you that I love you before you believe it?” His other hand moved to the other side of your face, moving it so that it was only inches away from yours.

“I don’t know. I’m sorry, okay? I just-”

“What, honey?” His voice was so soft and sweet and you felt like you didn’t deserve it.

“No one’s ever felt that way about me before and I guess-I guess I just don’t understand why someone could.” Eddie pressed a gentle kiss to your forehead before wrapping his arms around your shoulders to pull you into a hug.

“Oh, honey,” he rested his chin on top of your head while your arms wrapped around his waist. He had no idea that you had felt that and wished he had asked instead of just assuming that you didn’t love him back.

“I’m sorry.” He couldn’t believe that you were apologizing for the way you felt. You couldn’t control that.

“Nothing to be sorry about, honey.” His hands rubbed along your back as he pulled back to look at you. “How about I show you just how much I love you?”

“Show me?” You bat your eyelashes and Eddie felt his dick getting hard.

“I’m going to fucking worship you.” He pulled you into a messy kiss filled with clanking teeth and noses pressing into cheeks, but you eventually figured it out. He licked into your mouth and you let him in as he backed you up to the couch.

He pushed you down onto it and placed himself on top of you before pulling you in for another rough kiss. Your hands slid down his back and grabbed onto the bottom of his shirt before pulling it over his head. It dropped to the floor in a messy pile and Eddie’s fingers fumbled with the buttons of your cardigan. He unbuttoned them one by one and it eventually opened, your tits on full display.

Eddie had seen you naked so many times, but every time always seemed like the first when he got a view of your naked chest. He dove in and licked a stripe across one of your nipples before pulling the whole thing into his mouth, giving it a suck.

“Fuck,” you moaned, your hands moving into his hair and pressing into his scalp. He sucked and licked, causing multiple moans to fall from your lips, tugging onto his hair as you did so.

Once you thought he was done, he took your nipple between his teeth and gave it a pull, causing you to bury your fingers further into his hair, pulling on whatever strands you could grasp.

“Eddie, oh my god, so good.”

“You like that?” He chuckled and moved over to your other tit, hovering his mouth other it, wanting to make you beg for it.

“More,” was all you were able to say. “Please, Eddie.”

“Love your tits, honey,” he said, glancing up at your face before moving his gaze back to your breasts. “Honestly the best set I’ve ever seen.”

“Really?”

“Don’t believe me?” Of course you believed him. He complimented your tits any chance he got.

“I don’t know. I think I need some more.” You were desperate for his mouth back on you, needing to feel his teeth and tongue.

“Okay,” he nodded and took your other nipple into his mouth, giving it an even harder suck and you arched your back in pleasure.

“Sh-shit, Eddie. Fuck!” Eddie felt himself get even more hard at your moans, always loving watching you come undone by just him using his mouth. He licked, sucked and bit until your nipple was red and kissed his way down your stomach.

“God, you’re so fucking hot,” he said as his lips got to your bellybutton. He pressed a kiss to it then continued down to the top of your skirt. “I mean it, honey. You’re a fucking smoke show.”

Your cheeks were burning at his compliments and you loved how easily how they fell out of his mouth, knowing how much he meant them even though your insecurity told you that he was lying.

“Can I take this off? Need to taste you.”

“Please take it off. I need to feel your mouth on my pussy.” Your words came out so breathy and desperate and Eddie found your neediness so hot.

He quickly pulled your panties off out from under his skirt and toss them aside before quickly unzipping the side of your skirt and both of you widened your eyes when you heard a ripping noise.

“It’s fine,” you waved it off.

“I can sew it back together,” he assured you before pulling the skirt down your legs and letting it fall to the floor.

Eddie got off of the couch and lowered himself down on his knees before grabbing onto your ankle and pulling you so your ass was at the edge of the couch cushion. He then spread your legs and let out a whistle as he took sight of your pussy.

“Damn, sugar, this might be the wettest you’ve ever been. Can’t wait to get a taste.”

He held up one of your legs and slowly kissed all the way up to your thigh then did the same thing with your other one before draping both of them over his shoulders. He then dove into your cunt, his nose brushing it, causing you to let out a gasp. He started out slow, licking back and forth from your slit to your clit, then began to suck.

“Eddie,” you moaned, your hands finding his hair again. He continued to suck and lick, swirling his tongue around as he did so, driving you absolutely wild.

“Think this is the best you’ve ever tasted honey, swear to god,” he moaned.

Eddie grabbed onto your thighs and pulled you closer so he had more access to your cunt and shoved his tongue inside it, swirling it around as you reached your climax. Your legs tighten around his head and his hands moved to your waist, digging into the skin as he worked his magic with his mouth.

“Eddie, I think I’m gonna-”

“I think you already did,” he looked up at you with a devilish grin then pressed a kiss to your bud before removing your legs from his shoulders. He rested his hands on your knees and looked up at you with his pretty brown eyes.

“Now do you see how much I love you?”

“I think I’m starting to.” With that, Eddie picked you up and carried to the bathroom where the two of you shared a much needed shower, exchanging “I love you’s” to each other while you cleaned each other up.

#stranger things #eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie x y/n #eddie munson x you #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x fem!reader

[azzibuckets]

Paper Rings [Part 8/10 | Paige Bueckers]

paige bueckers x fem!reader

summary: paige gets a little jealous and things get a little heated

a/n: thank you all for your patience! part 9 will be up today too

word count: 2.3k

masterlist w/ all parts

1 MONTH LATER

“The only room left is with Paige.”

As soon as those words left KK’s mouth, your heart started to pulse erratically. “What? There’s no other room?”

KK shook her head apologetically. “There’s an odd number of us, and she called first dibs on getting her own room.”

The thought of having to share a room with Paige sent you into a panic. The sheer proximity would force you two to have to confront your past, and that was something you didn’t feel ready for yet. You inwardly cursed Nika at dragging you alongside this trip. The team had planned a trip celebrating the end of season, and had invited some of their close friends. At first you’d turned down the invite because of prior arrangements, but they ended up getting canceled, and when the girls found out they dragged you along as a last minute addition. You needed to work on keeping your mouth shut, you decided.

“Is she okay with it? I mean, she wanted to room alone,” you protested.

KK raised an eyebrow. “Girl, are you really asking that?”

Blushing, you looked down. “I don’t know, KK. It might be awkward.”

“Good.” KK stuck the key card in your pocket. “You guys better work things out. I’m tired of seeing you guys play games.” She patted you on the back and left you alone in the lobby.

Sighing, you double checked the room number before making your way to the elevator. Anxiety pounded in your head up until the moment you knocked on the door, half hoping Paige wouldn’t be in there and that you could deal with this issue later.

Unfortunately, the door swung open right away. Paige was in her dark basketball shorts and a tight fitting UConn tee. Her eyes brightened when she saw you, and she leaned against the door. “Hey.”

You marveled at her ability to make you all flustered with just a single raspy word. But you didn’t want to see the effect she had on you, so you straightened yourself and spoke with as much confidence as you could muster. “Apparently I’m supposed to room with you.”

Paige’s eyebrows shot up in surprise, and she looked over her shoulder to scan the room. “Right, right. Um, give me one sec.” Without bothering to close the door, she hurried back to the room and started piling clothes into her suitcase and throwing away food wrappers.

“Paige,” you laughed, stepping into the room. “Relax. It’s nothing I haven’t seen before.”

The blonde blushed, sending you a sheepish look. “Sorry. I wasn’t really expecting you.”

“Me neither,” you said under your breath. Ignoring her questioning look, you stepped further into the room to look around. Only then did you realize that there was one bed.

The fates definitely had it out for you. You eyed the rest of the room, hoping another bed would magically appear. Paige made eye contact with you, seeming to sense your anxiety. “Don’t worry about it,” she mumbled. “I can sleep on the floor with some blankets. I don’t want to make you uncomfortable.”

Years ago, you’d slept in Paige’s bed almost every night, with a drawer in her room. It didn’t matter if it was a weekend or if you had school the next day. You always slept over. You guys were both touchy, so practically every day you’d wake up with your legs tangled, Paige’s face in the crook of your elbow or your forehead pressed against her shoulder. It has been so natural. And now? Now she was offering to sleep on the floor, like you guys were strangers.

“Don’t be silly,” you forced yourself to sound nonchalant. “We can both sleep on here. There’s tons of room.” You knew you wouldn’t be getting much sleep tonight, with Paige next to you. The tension would be unbearable.

You could sense the blonde hesitate before she nodded. “If you’re sure.” She looked at her phone as it lit up with a text. She stood up, grabbing a jacket. “They’re all downstairs getting lunch. You ready?”

When you reached the resteraunt, the only two seats left were one in the middle and one at the end, next to Ice’s friend that you didn’t know. You didn’t feel much like talking, so you took the seat next to Ice’s friend. She seemed nice enough.

“You’re Y/N?” Ice’s friend was a ginger, with vibrant hair and a smattering of freckles across her pink cheeks. She was definitely pretty in a charismatic way, with a chip on her front tooth and curious eyes.

“That’s me.”

She scanned you up and down before slowly smiling. “I’ve heard a lot about you. I’m Marissa.”

Your cheeks heated up at how she’d unashamedly checked you out. But you brushed it off. Based on the clothes she was wearing, she seemed pretty straight. She probably just liked your shirt or your jeans or something.

You opened the menu, musing over what you should get. Marissa popped up behind your shoulder. “I’m not super hungry. You wanna share?”

Relieved that you wouldn’t have to make a decision, you nodded in agreement. “Whatever you’re getting is fine.”

“Alright.” She scooted her chair closer to yours, drawing the attention of the entire table as the legs screeched against the tiles. “So we can share,” she explained as everyone stared.

You could feel the heat of Paige’s stare as she observed how close you and Marissa now were, your elbows colliding with each movement, but you chose to ignore it. You didn’t need to deal with any drama right now, especially since you guys were now in the same room.

“So.” Marissa propped her chin up on her hand. “What’s your connection?”

You played with the napkin in front of you. A swan origami would look good, you thought. “Sorry?”

Marissa laughed as if you’d just told the funniest joke ever. “I mean, with the team. How’d you become friends with them?”

Chewing on your bottom lip, you debated what to say. You didn’t wanna say Paige’s name and give off the impression that you guys were still best friends, but you didn’t want to lie either. You settled on telling Marissa that you were friends with all of them but Paige had introduced you guys.

“Nice,” Marissa nodded. You guys fell into small talk. She was pretty nice, but a little inquisitive, and your social battery was starting to drain.

“What do you like to do?”

“Read. I like reading. I like hiking and being outdoors. And watching sports too. Volleyball, soccer, basketball,” you nodded your head at the team at the latter.

“Oh, awesome.” Marissa touched your wrist. You looked down. Okay, now she was definitely flirting. “Do you play a sport?”

“She plays water polo,” Paige quickly interjected from across the table. The whole table quieted down, but she didn’t look away, staring at us with a kind of ferocity you knew all too well.

Marissa looked between us with surprise. “Oh, nice.” She pondered thoughtfully, then broke into a smile. “Oh shit, I heard the swim suits get really tight in that sport. Are they that bad?”

You laughed, trying to diffuse the tension at the table. “Yeah, they’re pretty tight, but I’ve gotten used to it. The only thing is that they’re kinda revealing.”

Marissa bit her lip, her fingers tapping your wrist. “Then I’ll have to watch you sometime.”

At this, Paige started coughing. KK whacked her on the back. You resisted the urge to roll your eyes. You knew Paige was laughing at Marissa’s poor attempts at flirting, and a small part of you found it funny too, but another part of you was furious at Paige. Why did she think it was her place to act like this?

So you decided to bite back, and you leaned towards Marissa with a suggestive smile on your face. “Maybe you will.”

Paige immediately stopped hacking away, and her face turned rigid. Thankfully, the waiter arrived with the food, so all the girls got distracted. The atmosphere returned to normal as all the girls complimented the food and went back to their conversations.

The rest of lunch went fairly smoothly, albeit the fact that Marissa had upped her flirting since, and Paige would not stop glaring at the two of you. But you were grateful for the fact that she’d stopped intervening and kept to herself.

You sighed, leaning back in your seat. Mostly of the girls had already finished their meals and left. It was just Paige and KK continuing their dumb argument over the best Tru Fu flavor, Nika and Caroline chatting intently about the recent Mystics game, and you and Marissa. You’d wanted to leave and go lie down in the hotel bed eons ago, but the ginger couldn’t seem to get the hint.

The waiter set down a refill of Marissa’s Shirley Temple in front of her. She plucked the cherry from it, rolling the stem between her fingers before bringing it up to my mouth. “You like cherries?” she smirked.

All of a sudden, a long arm stretched between the two of us and grabbed it from Marissa’s hand. “She doesn’t like cherries,” Paige uttered, leaning from across the table. “But I do. Thanks!” She popped the cherry in her mouth and calmly returned to her food.

Nika and Caroline were too absorbed in their conversation to realize what had happened. But of course KK had seen the whole thing, and her mouth dropped open as she tried not to laugh.

Marissa didn’t seem too offput by what Paige had just done, continuing the conversation like normal. But you couldn’t hear her, her voice muffled and drowned out by the noise ringing in your ears. Heat crept up from the base of your neck. What the fuck did Paige think she was doing?

Finally, you interrupted Marissa’s spiel with an apologetic smile. “I’m sorry,” you said. “But I gotta go. I told my mom I’d call her at 2.”

“Oh, okay,” Marissa said. “I’ll see you!”

You got up quickly before she could hug you or anything and called Paige’s name. “I don’t have a room key,” you lied, relentlessly staring her down. “Can you come up with me?”

Paige looked back at KK, who mouthed to her, “You’re in deep shit.” The blonde slowly and begrudgingly turned back around, getting up and following you out of the resteraunt.

We were silent in the elevator. Paige kept shooting you nervous looks while you stood against the wall with your arms crossed. Your anger was building, spilling over. You felt as if you were expanding, ballooning with rage. If you didn’t control yourself, fast, you’d explode.

As soon as the door clicked behind you two, you turned around and jabbed a finger in Paige’s chest. “What the hell was that?”

Paige clenched her jaw, her face set and stony. “What do you mean?”

“Oh, fuck you. You know what I mean. Stop acting oblivious,” you hissed.

Paige was backed up against the wall now, your faces inches apart. “You hate cherries. You used to give me the cherries in all your Shirley Temples,” she shrugged. “I’m sorry Miss Marissa didn’t know that,” she added, her tone bloodcurdlingly condescending, riling you up even more.

“What if I’d wanted that cherry? We’ve barely talked in the past year. Stop acting like you know me.” You ignored the way Paige’s face fell at your words, focusing instead on your anger. You needed to stay mad. Paige always found a way to appease your anger, but not this time. You needed to get your point across.

“If you want a cherry so damn bad, I’ll go down and get one for you.”

Your nostrils flared at Paige’s attitude. “You and I both know that’s not what this is about. So why don’t you stop behaving like a kid and tell me why you’re acting like this?”

Paige’s chest was heaving. She was looking at you with so much anger and frustration and something else in her eyes. “Huh?” you prodded, pushing her chest.

Paige looked up at the ceiling. When she looked back down, her eyes were wet. “What do you want me to admit, Y/N?” Her voice was low and cold, nothing like the high-pitched intensity of my yelling. “The fact that I’m jealous? That it sickens my stomach to see you guys loudly flirting for the entire meal? Do you know how humiliating it is for me to just sit there and not say anything as my entire team watches my ex play around with some girl? I had a fucking migraine the entire time thinking about how many times this must��ce happened in the past year. So many times I wasn’t there that people were talking to you like that and touching you, and it made me want to fucking die.”

You reared your head. “Don’t say that.” Stumbling back, you shrilled out, “Don’t you fucking say that when you’re the reason we’re like this now.”

Paige’s eyes flashed. “You never let me apologize. I have so many things to say and you won’t even hear me out.”

You couldn’t help but laugh. Your laugh was rattled and hollow, a reflection of the uneasy feelings in your chest. “Begging for my attention? That’s funny. I thought I was the fan girl. Desperate to have just. one. fuck. with. you.”

It looked like a car had hit Paige in the stomach, taking the air from her lungs. She crumpled up. “Y/N. Please. I never, ever, meant that.” She reached for you, but you stepped away from her grasp.

“I need some air.” You shoved your way past her, letting the door slam away behind you.

#paige bueckers #paige bueckers x you #uconnwbb #wcbb #wbb #enemiestolovers #friends to lovers

[steddieas-shegoes]

congrats on 3000!!! 🎉🍾🎊💖

For the sentence prompt: "I'm just gonna go freak out for a minute first."

Thank you!!!! ♥️

➰➰➰➰➰➰➰➰➰➰➰➰

Steve was holding his hand while the doctor checked his stitches. It wasn’t really that weird for him to be holding his hand, not since he woke up half-dead in the hospital.

It was a little weird that he was rubbing his thumb against the side of his thumb, though.

And probably a little weird that his other hand was resting on his head, a weight that was comforting and confusing all at once.

“Looks great, Eddie. I’d say by the next visit, we’ll be able to get them out and let these finish healing naturally,” the doctor smiled at him as he pulled his shirt back down.

Steve’s hand squeezed his, and he couldn’t help looking over at the sunshine in the seat next to him.

It had to be pretty obvious how he felt about Steve. He’s lucky none of the kids have caught on and started teasing him yet.

Robin has, but at least she knows to do it privately.

“I’ll have the front desk schedule you for two weeks out. You can grab an appointment card on the way out. Keep them all clean and don’t do any heavy lifting or physical activity quite yet,” the doctor reminded as she pulled off her gloves and threw them in the trash. “You boys have a nice day.”

As she left the room, Steve helped Eddie sit up slowly. He didn’t really need the help anymore, but he’d be an idiot to admit it with how much Steve touched him.

“Two more weeks, Eds! That’s better than what they thought last time,” Steve was so excited for him. His smile was lighting up the room and he looked five seconds away from bouncing on his feet.

“Yeah, it’s great.”

“Aren’t you excited?” Steve’s smile dropped at Eddie’s tone.

“Yeah! Yeah, it’ll be great to have less limits. Might be able to get the guys together for a jam session,” Eddie gave a small smile.

“But…?”

Eddie sighed. “But then you won’t be around anymore, right? Like, other than when we all hang out on movie nights. You only stuck around because no one else could really help me every day. Everyone had work or families that wouldn’t let them out of their sight.”

Steve looked heartbroken, and Eddie couldn’t figure out why.

“Eddie, I’m not gonna leave you just because you don’t technically need me anymore,” Steve shook his head. “We’re- we’re friends, aren’t we?”

“Of course! I mean, I thought so. But I know it could just be that you feel bad and I wouldn’t expect you to stick around because of that.”

Steve grabbed his other hand, his grip tightening on Eddie’s skin almost painfully.

“I wanna stick around for a lot of reasons, Eds.”

Eddie was caught in his gaze, his wide, pleading eyes almost too much.

“Like what?”

“Like because you’re fun to be around. You’re funny and talented and smart. You taught me about Hobbits! Love those guys,” Steve stepped closer. “You’re brave and you care about all of us. You-“ Steve swallowed. “You see me. The real me.”

“What do you mean?” Eddie’s heart was racing as he looked between Steve’s eyes, down to his lips where his tongue had poked out momentarily to wet them.

“You’ve seen me when my parents have come home and made me feel like shit and you just distracted me with singing whatever pop songs are on the radio and helping me cook dinner. You’ve been there when I had a two day long migraine and couldn’t even stand up to go to the bathroom. You made grocery shopping fun! I fucking hate grocery shopping, but you just keep being silly and making me laugh and I had fun.” Steve leaned in so his forehead was touching Eddie’s. “You laugh at my jokes, even when they aren’t that funny. You listen to me when no one else pays attention. You see who I am and you let me be who I am and I don’t feel scared that you’ll run.”

“I’m not running.”

“I know. I love that you aren’t, that you won’t.” Steve closed his eyes for a moment. When he opened them again, they were watery. “I love you.”

Eddie was certain he was dead. Maybe the last month had all been some coma-induced dream and they finally pulled the plug. Maybe he actually died in the Upside Down and the last month was his final goodbye to everyone in his own head.

He stood up slowly, trying not to push Steve away, but having to guide him away from the table he’d been laying on.

“Where are you going? You’re not leaving, right?”

“Nope. I’m just gonna go freak out for a minute first.”

“Um.”

Eddie smiled, leaned in to kiss Steve’s cheek, and pulled away.

“Give me a minute. This is either the most realistic dream I’ve ever had or the best day of my life.”

Steve snorted, but let him walk to the door and stand outside of it for a moment.

When Eddie came back in, his cheeks were red, but he looked determined.

He pulled Steve into him by his hips, crushed their lips together, and smiled so hard their teeth clacked against each other. It was a little messy for a first kiss, but they could get better.

“You love me? Really?”

“I thought it was obvious,” Steve laughed as they pulled apart.

“I thought I was obvious!”

“Not really. I was convinced I was imaging things! Robin had to explain to me what the hanky code was before I even believed you liked guys!”

They both laughed so hard they cried, forgetting entirely that they were still in the doctor’s examination room.

Someone knocked on the door and they broke apart quickly, trying to stop the laughter for a moment to deal with whoever was at the door.

A nurse poked her head in. “Sorry, don’t wanna rush you, but just wanted to make sure everything was okay? Did you need to see the doctor again?”

“No, no. Sorry. We’re heading out. He just needed a minute,” Steve said quickly, smiling back at her.

She nodded and left, leaving the door open as a silent reminder that they needed to disinfect the room for the next patient.

“Steve.”

“Yeah?”

“I love you, too.”

“You don’t have to say it just-“

“I’m not. I’m saying it because I love you. I see you, remember? There’s a lot there to love.”

Steve turned a bright red, and Eddie decided then he would do just about anything to see that shade on Steve’s cheeks and neck as often as possible.

“Let’s go home,” Steve finally said when he recovered. “Wanna kiss you more.”

“Can’t argue with that.”

#steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #stranger things #asks #follower celebration #drabbles #getting together #post vecna #cw: mention of injury