#and the prompt immediately made me think of the song and him... so...

[smile-files]

NO ONE ELSE CAN HELP YOU

NO ONE ELSE CAN HELP YOU

(objectober 2024 day 20: dream)

[stxrrkissed]

── ۶ৎ FILL ME UP .ᐟ

꣑ꦌ rodrick heffley x fem!singer!reader ৴ LENGTH 1.1k

DESCRIPTION rodrick sees a perfect time to start the process of baby making.

CONTENT breeding kink ꣑ dom!rodrick ꣑ sub!reader ꣑ lil praise kink ꣑ dirty talk ꣑ aftercare mentioned ꣑ rodrick’s is in his twenties.

THOUGHTS ahhh, i know i did a slight rodrick smut headcanons before but this is my first full fic smut for him and i'm excited. i hope y’all enjoy this.

𝒾. masterlist 𝒾𝒾. previous fic 𝒾𝒾𝒾. prompts

“HOW WAS THAT?”

You ask, looking at Rodrick who has a smile on his face, you just got done singing a new song you wrote for the band. You were pretty nervous about it too, it was one that gave you writer’s block since you wanted to be perfect.

“You always sound good,” Rodrick comments, laying back on the couch manspreading; gripping onto the drumsticks he held in his hand.

“I’m happy you liked it.” You question, a smile tugging at the corner of your lips, you walk over to where he’s sitting, immediately taking your seat on his lap, taking his sticks out of his hand, placing it on the couch cushion, as his hands cups your waist, moving slowly towards your ass, squeezing it while he captures your soft lips with his after staring deeply into your eyes.

You knew what you two were doing was bad, intimacy between band mates was against the rules so no conflict were to ever happen if breakups were to concur but the magnetic pull that keeps bringing you two together since you met is so strong that you can’t just walk away from those feelings.

Whenever he looks at you when he thinks you are not looking, it gets you all giddy inside, the butterflies that form in your stomach whenever you sing in front of him because his opinion always mattered the most out of everyone.

His hands grips the hem of your shirt, pulling it over your head breaking the kiss for only a second, he unclamps your bra, discarding to the ground as you grind over his growing bulge that you can tell was aching to be released from the restraints of his jeans. 

Your hands travel down to his lower waist, unbuttoning his jeans, zipping down the zipper while you lift your body for a minute so he can take off both his jeans and his boxers, his hard cock springing up once it’s released. 

“Let me check the waters,” Rodrick says, bringing his hand under your skirt, feeling the wet spot on your panties, a smirk tugs on the corner of his lips as he pulls your panty to the side, lining up his tip to your entrance. “Look at my princess, all wet for me.” 

Your face heats up at his comment as you sink down slowly, biting down on your bottom lip as you enjoy every inch until you flush against his pelvis.

You hold on to his shoulders as you start to grind your hips slowly to get used to his length briefly before you start to bounce up and down on his cock. You squeeze your eyes shut from how good he feels inside of you. It was like your pussy was made only for him as it fits perfectly better than your ex ever did.

His hands grip your waist tightly as he guides your movements, the sounds of your moans mingling with each other filling the garage as if anyone was to walk by, they would hear what was going on and it excites you more.

“Oh fuck,” he groans, keeping eye contact with you as you continue bouncing, loving the squelching noises your pussy was making. You moans spill out your mouth as you’re loving every second of this. 

Rodrick arms wrap around your waist stopping all movement as he holds you while getting up, placing you on your stomach near the edge of the couch not disconnecting from your greedy cunt.

“If only you can see how pretty you are as you take all of me,” He comments, admiring the sight beneath him as he rolls his hips into you, soft moans escaping out of your slightly parted mouth as you grip the couch.

“Perfect, little pussy suckin’ me right in,” He groans as he keeps his pace looking into your pretty eyes. “Fuck— please…” you whimper.

“Please what? Use your words, tell me what you want, love,” Rodrick watches you try to form complete sentences as he thrust deeper inside of you, your moans filling his ears. He smirks once again, knowing he got you too fucked out to talk. 

Your boobs bouncing with each thrust, he looks at your sweat-slick belly, he reaches down to your breasts and his mouth trails down the valley of your breasts, biting and nibbling on the soft flesh, tongue swirling on the marks forming on your skin as his saliva leaves wet spots behind.

"So soft for me, (name), look at you" he huffs out, trailing downwards, reaching your stomach and something in his eyes change a shade darker, pounding into your cunt, the mewls in response from you drives him crazy, his mind going to places he shouldn't but the only thing that came to his mind was you full with his baby, your belly so round and soft. It would be one way to mark you as his, to stop all the guys from flirting with you after shows.

“Please… let me come,” you finally get out as you dig your nails into his back. 

“Go ahead, come all over my cock,” he groans as he uses his fingers to rub on your clit. Your cunt clenching around his dick, and your body starts to convulse, painting not only his cock but his lower waist as well with your release. 

“Good girl,” Rodrick praises in your ear as you try to catch your breath. “Gonna fill you up real good, would you like that, love?” He pounds harder and deeper as his cock twitches inside your cunt loving the sight of you nodding your head yes to his question, your gummy walls gripping him tighter. “You’d look so beautiful while carrying my child,” He places his hand on your stomach as he is picturing the sight. 

The mere images made his cock twitch inside you, your lewd noises of overstimulation just making it hard to back off from actually doing it, the pace he set is ruthless, pounding inside your sopping hole, slippery with your juices as he chases his end. 

Your lips parted, whined spewing out of your mouth as he fucks you, hitting the spongy spot repeatedly, nearing his own orgasm as he fills you up to the brim with his hot white spurts of seeds.

His breath warm on your neck, your legs tightly wrapped around his waist, perfectly fitting inside, hitting the spots in an angle never before, catching up with his depleted air levels as he looks down at your fucked out state, hands connected while your bodies connected as well with his cock still buried deep to the hilt inside your warm core, the images still plagues his mind. 

Rodrick slowly pulls out and as he does, he watches some of his cum ooze from your hole, he scoops it up and pushes it back into your pussy earning a whimper to escape your mouth.

“I know baby, just needed to make sure none of it goes to waste, let’s clean you up,” he picks you up in bridal style, you snuggle in his chest while he carries you inside your home, leading you to the bathroom, happy of what’s to come in the future, putting aside the thought of the band finding out your secret relationship.

COMMENTS (if you want to be tagged in doawk fics, click here) @cherriespopsicle, @rain-likes-purple, @lover-of-books-and-tea.

thank you for reading! © stxrrkissed 2024. all rights reserved — do not claim, copy, repost or translate.

[belowablue]

Not Boyfriend Material - James Potter x Reader

Who is she, posting frequently? I'm actually pretty proud of this one guys, over 2k words and everything!

part 2 part 3 <3

MDNI

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

“How could he ever think I’d want to go out with him?” Lily exclaimed from your right side. You snorted. 

James Potter had once again tried his luck with the supposed ‘girl of his dreams’ and it had, once again, resulted in his public humiliation as she turned him down. You were beginning to wonder if it was some sort of weird kink he had. 

“I mean,” she continued, “I can’t make it much more obvious that I don’t want him, not like that.”

“I know Lils” you said, half-focused on the white flowers in the hedge you were walking alongside. The two of you had fled the Great Hall after Lily’s latest outburst and were wondering the grounds whilst Lily let it all out. 

“For goodness sake I don’t know how many different ways I can turn him down,” she babbled, “I’m running out of ideas here I can’t-“ 

You cut her off, “you shouldn’t have to, he should have it in his big head by now that the two of you are never going to happen.”

Lily sighed, flicking her hair over one shoulder, “but that would mean the end to his childhood dream.” You snorted again, “you’re not responsible for keeping that alive, its in his own head.” Lily hummed next to you, watching you trail your fingers across the leaves of the hedge. 

You two had done this song and dance a million times before, each time she rejected James you would put your heads together to try and figure out why he insisted on pursing her. You pretty much always came to the same answer; because it’s all he’d ever known. 

“Ugh” she began again, “it’s not like he’s ever shown any signs that he’d be a good boyfriend anyway.” 

Your brow furrowed but you let her continue. 

“He’s never dated anyone because he’s been holding out for me whatever that means”, she used her fingers as air quotes to say this, which made you giggle.  “But I think he’s slept with about half the girls in our year” 

“Oh but he’s just practising for you Lils” you said mischievously as Lily immediately began making loud vomiting sounds. “But I agree” you said “sex does not equal romantic experience.” 

Lily nodded. “Anything else?” She prompted. You thought for a moment or two, fingers encircling a delicate white blossom you’d plucked off the hedge. 

“I think he’d be a good lay, with all his practice and Black as his best friend,” You pondered before announcing “I’d shag him.” 

Lily nodded subduedly beside you, “but?”

“But he’s not boyfriend material” you concluded. “Just because he can find the clit does not mean he can plan a good date.” Lily laughed beside you, evidently relieved that you were backing her up, though you always did. She went quiet and you turned to look at her, flower still in-between your fingers. 

“I’m so tired of watching my back in case of another spontaneous proposal” she grumbled, “He just doesn’t get it I won’t ever want to go out-“ 

You cut her off gently. “You don’t need to justify yourself to me,” you took her hand and squeezed it gently. “I know why.” 

She smiled gratefully back at you, green eyes glistening. “Yeah” she murmured, “yeah.”

You both walked along in silence for a bit, thinking. “Come on,” you turned to her. “Let’s go back or we’ll miss dinner.” 

As you turned back to the castle you discarded the flower thoughtlessly on the ground.

It wasn’t until you had moved away that James Potter appeared from the other side of the hedge, rubbing his jaw ruefully. Noticing the discarded bloom, he bent down and picked it up, twirling it from hand to hand.

“Not boyfriend material huh” he said to himself. He glanced up at your retreating figure and spoke to your back “we’ll see about that.”

———————————————————————————————————————-

“Oh fuck, James!”

James Potter smirked as his hips met yours, balls deep in your pussy. He had managed to persuade you into having a little soiree, egged on by your own words bouncing around in his head, ‘I’d shag him.’ 

But he was also a man with a plan. Once he’d fucked you senseless, proving all the gossip true, then he was going to introduce a new side of him; one that was absolutely boyfriend material. 

He hummed, “you like that baby?” Flushed face staring down at your own as he kept up a quick deep pace. You were babbling nonsense, feeling your second orgasm approaching, “fuck yes, Jamie I, - shit, please, harder!” 

Who was he to deny you? Picking up his pace, silently thanking all that quidditch practice for giving him excellent stamina, he began to rub your clit as well, eagerly watching your face, delighted to see it crumple in pleasure as your orgasm built. 

He was panting hard and you were moaning like a pornstar when you came on his cock. Fuck he was done for, you got so tight around him and you looked so pretty when you came just for him that “Shit shit shit”, he moaned your name loudly as he came in you, filling you up.  

You both relaxed, panting, enjoying your post-orgasm buzz. James slowly pulled out, savouring the feeling, and leaned back to watch his cum drip out of you. You huffed, watching him watching you, resisting the urge to roll your eyes, was this some sort of primal thing boys had? 

You were just about to kick him away, already having mixed thoughts about what you were going to tell Lily, when you felt his finger on your clit again. You jumped. 

“Sensitive?” He asked. This time, you did roll your eyes “no shit.”

He grinned at you and there was some mischief in there you didn’t quite like. 

“Got one more for me?” 

“I-“ you were speechless. Again, he wanted you to cum again? The other girls had said nothing about stuff happening after he came. 

Taking your silence as permission he stretched out between your legs and it was then you saw what he was planning to do.

“James there is definitely still-“ He cut you off, “don’t care, I’ll be able to taste how good I fucked you, now come here.”

Well, you didn’t have any complaints. James’ head was legendary. 

You left your legs nice and open for him as he continued to thumb your clit and brought his tongue down to your entrance, plunging it in, tasting the combination of your two releases. He groaned into you, sending delicious vibrations through your body. You gasped. 

“Fuck, we taste so good together baby” you were only half-listening, your third orgasm building embarrassingly quickly. With his quick, enthusiastic stimulation you were coming in two minutes flat, moaning so loudly, and, to your mild horror, squirting on his tongue. 

You weren’t sure what he would think, but his noises of surprised delight and the gyrations of his hips into the mattress relaxed you. You had to push his head gently away to get him to stop. 

He pulled back, male pride written all over his shiny face. “Alright?”

You lazily glared at him from your fucked-out state, “yeah yeah.”

He grinned and disappeared into the bathroom. This was the perfect time to make your quiet escape. Nobody really stuck around afterwards. Just as you were trying to get your twitchy legs to move, he reappeared, was cloth in hand. 

His grin dropped slightly as he saw you trying to wriggle off the bed. “Hey” he called softly, “hang on.”

You had no choice but to do as he asked. It was that or have the full embarrassment of having him watch you drop to the floor with jelly legs. So you stayed where you were and watched with surprise as he brought the damp cloth in-between your legs, gently and reverently cleaning up the mess he made. 

You stayed very still, unsure where this was going.  No other girls had said anything about receiving this kind of aftercare. It was normally a slap on the arse and a “same time next week?” 

Once James had finished, he stepped back, still naked, and began wringing the cloth in his hands, as if he was nervous. You almost couldn’t believe yourself, James Potter was never nervous. 

“Um” he began, “you don’t want to, to stay, do you?” 

You froze. Definitely uncharted territory. And the worst part was you couldn’t figure out his motivation. Why on earth was he suddenly being so nice about his hookups? But the more you thought about it, the more you were sure you wouldn’t make it back to your own dorm in your current state, so you nodded silently. 

Clear relief flooded his face as he tossed the cloth aside. “Good, I mean great, I mean fine” He said, sidling in next to you, fixing the duvet from its crumpled state so you were both covered and warm. You refrained from getting too close to him, you still had no idea what the fuck this was, until you glanced over and saw him lying on his back, the arm nearest you outstretched, giving you an in to lie on his chest. 

You thought about it for all of two seconds, weirder things had happened tonight than you cuddling with James Potter. So you came over, head lying on his warm chest and he brought his arm up to encircle you, holing you there.

You sighed contentedly, eyes already drooping closed. This was nice. It had been a while since you cuddled with anyone like this. You very quickly fell asleep, tired out, leaving James wide awake. 

His head was buzzing. You’d agreed.  You’d actually agreed to stay with him. To sleep in his bed and cuddle him. This was perfect.  This was all he wanted. He’d not been dissatisfied with his previous hookups by any means, but,  but it was nice to feel anchored down. Phase two of his plan was going splendidly. By the next morning, if he successfully completed it, you would have no choice but to see him as the best boyfriend ever. 

With this comforting thought in his head, he closed his eyes, squeezed you a little closer and fell asleep.

Sunlight fell onto your eyes, waking you up. You pried your eyes blearily open and peered around. The warmth was gone. You sat up a little. No James. ‘Typical’ you thought, angrily tugging at your hair, ‘he’s the one who borderlines begs me to stay the night yet disappears first thing.’ You began to look around the room for you clothes, ‘probably scared of the commitment’ you decided.

Just as you were about to get up, the door flung open. In breezed one Potter holding a tray adorned with all the breakfast food you could want. You stared, what else was there to do? 

“Oh you’re awake” he said cheerfully. “I’ve brought breakfast” It was like he had sunshine injected into his voice. “Sorry lovie, I wasn’t sure what you like, so I got a bit of everything.” He chuckled, “the house elves are so helpful.” He set the tray down at the foot of the bed and stepped back, looking at you expectantly, smiling from ear to ear. 

Dazed, you murmured something unintelligible, reaching for a piece of toast and honey. Once he saw you were eating, he plopped down on the side of the bed and took an apple out of his pocket. 

“Did you sleep well?” 

You blinked. What alternate universe had you woken up in. You nodded slowly at him and he rewarded you with a dazzling smile 

“Excellent, I did too incase you were wondering, you’re very comfortable.” No one had ever said that about you before. You had to credit James for originality there. 

His eyes fell on your naked torso and widened slightly. Looking down, you suddenly had the urge to tug the duvet up to cover yourself as if he hadn’t had his face there hours ago, but James had silently turned away, apple abandoned and went around the room gathering up your discarded clothes. 

You watched him, chewing your toast, lost for words. This never happened. This actually never happened. No one stayed the night. No one cuddled. No one was treated to breakfast in bed. What was he doing. You decided he must have sustained a head injury at some point. Only rational explanation. 

You reached up to push your hair away, only find your fingers sticky with honey. James noticed, because of course he did, and cleared his throat. You looked at him. 

“You could go” he offered, “or you could, y’know, have a shower, get cleaned up.”

Words finally found you, which was great because you decided to make the most of this very domestic situation. “Would you join me?” 

James beamed, “what ever you want baby.” 

Getting up, you also took note of the frequent use of endearing pet names. It was almost like he was your boyfriend.  

AN: guys I saw the most heartwrenching marauders edit on TikTok to that one Alex Warren sound, fuckass app. I also wanted to put this picture in at the top but I couldn't format it right so it's going here xxx

[kxsagi]

just so you know I'm down the bada lee rabbit hole again.

hear me out, professional dancer reader with bf bllk men going to her studio during off season, live streaming bc his visit was supposed to be a surprise only to open the door and see the most jaw dropping, pants bulging, down bad sexy dance known to mankind and their reaction was like "is the floor pregnant? Chat, are WE pregnant?" or or or "I have nothing appropriate to say"

(have you seen take me down by bada lee? oh god, I'm combusting. yeah, it's definitely inspired by that😩)

“𝐦𝐞𝐧 𝐰𝐡𝐨 𝐲𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐧 𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐧”

a/n: i don't know bada lee but i love the prompt 😩

suggestive content inside! 

ft. isagi yoichi, itoshi rin, itoshi sae, shidou ryusei, kaiser michael, kunigami rensuke, nagi seishiro, mikage reo, bachira meguru, karasu tabito, ness alexis

isagi yoichi

he thought he was slick. thought he was clever. he’s grinning all proud, walking up to your studio with his livestream on, whispering to the chat like “she has no idea i’m here, i’m gonna surprise her, she’s gonna freak out.” 

and she does, but not in the way he’s expecting because when he opens the door… it’s over. 

you’re mid-routine, hips rolling to the beat in a red cutout set that looks like it was made for war. thighs clenching around the floor, lips parted, sweat glistening, hands everywhere on your body as you arch and twist like a siren conjuring sinful thoughts from hell. 

isagi freezes in the doorway like he’s been sniped. his jaw unhinges. the phone almost slips from his hand. chat is already going crazy with: “bro blink once if you’re alive” “ISAGI?? EARTH TO ISAGI.” “GET HER OFF THE FLOOR YOICHI BEFORE IT’S TOO LATE.” 

“chat i-i have nothing appropriate to say.” he sounds like he’s been run over by a freight train and revived solely to yearn. 

he turns off the live with trembling fingers and just stares. you pause, breathless, giving him a sheepish smile. “surprise?” 

he deadass just whispers “i need to sit down.” 

he never fully recovers. your dance becomes his villain origin story and the sole reason he wakes up every morning now. 

itoshi rin

he doesn’t do livestreams. he thinks they’re dumb. he also thinks surprises are lame. 

but he likes you, and unfortunately, that means he ends up walking into your studio mid-livestream because you forced him to use your account to “say hi to fans.” 

he was going to make a snarky comment, something like “this is stupid,” but the second the door opens and he sees you? he dies. 

you’re dancing like the song is inside you. your waist is so hypnotic, it’s spiritual. the way you bend over and spread your legs like the floor owed you money is– he almost drops your phone. chat immediately combusts. “IS HE FROZEN OR HARD.” “not him clutching his own chest” “rin.exe has stopped responding.” 

“… chat, is the floor pregnant?” he mutters. “are WE pregnant???” 

he shuts the stream off immediately. stands there with both hands over his face. you blink at him. 

“hi?” 

“what the fuck,” he breathes, “what the fuck was that. where did you learn that. why did you learn that. why are your hips doing that. is this even allowed. you’re going to jail.” 

he says all that while silently begging god to give him strength because he cannot unsee what he just saw. 

itoshi sae

sae is calm. smug. practically cocky. he agreed to do a livestream surprise visit purely because his fans begged. 

he does his little bored intro: “yo. she doesn’t know i’m coming. let’s get this over with.” 

he opens the door. walks in… and is immediately hit with something he was NOT spiritually prepared for. 

you’re performing a slow, seductive floor piece that’s basically the visual embodiment of “i can take your man.” your body moves like honey on fire. every grind, every roll, every moan-like breath into the music is pure lust incarnate. 

he stops. phone still recording. expression completely neutral. but the eye twitch gives him away. 

chat is LOSING IT. “HE’S IN SHOCK.” “sae.exe is buffering.” “he’s at 1% battery rn.” 

he slowly turns the camera to himself and deadpans, “chat, i… genuinely have no appropriate words. the things i’m thinking are illegal in most countries.” 

the stream explodes. 

you glance at him, raising an eyebrow. “hey.” 

he clicks off the live mid-greeting. doesn’t speak. doesn’t blink. just drags a hand down his face, walks up to you, and mumbles “you’re really trying to test my patience, huh?” 

you giggle and wrap your arms around him. he hugs you back stiffly. 

and then whispers, “get in the car. i’m buying you a cage. we’re gonna have to lock you up.” 

shidou ryusei

he’s the one who planned the livestream. he’s the one who planned the surprise. he’s the one who made sure your fans were watching. he was ready to make it a moment. 

but he was not ready for you. 

you’re moving like a goddess of lust summoned by the devil himself. hair sticking to your skin, tongue poking out, ass clapping back with godlike rhythm as you dip and grind and body roll to a beat that’s clearly trying to destroy him personally. 

he drops the phone. it lands face up, still streaming. 

chat gets a full view of shidou on his knees with his hands in his hair muttering “bro. bro. bro. bro.” “BRO YOU PLANNED THIS LMAOOO” “why are we on our knees” “i fear this is the end of ryusei shidou” 

he scrambles toward you like he’s being drawn by a tractor beam. “babe. babe. what the fuck is this choreography. you tryna give me a nosebleed?? who let you cook??? i feel like i’ve been assaulted, in a hot way.” 

you smirk. “you like it?” 

“i’d pay to be the floor,” he deadpans. “hell, i’d kill the floor. just to be under you like that.” 

he turns back to the phone and tells the chat “alright stream’s over, i’m about to risk it all.” and he means it. 

kaiser michael

you know how confident this man is. how cocky. how absolutely sure he has control over every situation. 

so when he walks into your studio mid-livestream with a dumb smirk and that trademark “guess who’s here, shatz” attitude, and then sees you dancing like the dictionary definition of wet dream, he crumbles. 

you’re giving a lapdance to empty air. you’re moaning with the music. your whole body is sin incarnate. 

chat immediately goes feral. “BRO THE KING HAS BEEN DEPOSED.” “kaiser rn: 🧍” “someone get this man CPR.” 

he stares for a solid minute before slowly raising the phone and muttering, “chat i think i’m in heat.” 

you pause the music. smirk. “enjoying the view?” 

“enjoying???” he laughs, chokes, then says: “liebe, i’m about to write a thesis about your hips. i’m about to drop out of football and dedicate my life to being your personal hype man. i am now YOUR fan.” 

and then he immediately ends the stream and walks straight to you with one goal: suffer. 

kunigami rensuke

kunigami isn’t a social media guy. the livestream was your idea and he only agreed because he missed you. 

but when he steps into your studio and sees you doing a routine that could make a priest reconsider his life choices, he’s done. 

you’re in fishnets. leather. there’s a chair involved. you’re gripping it with both hands, dropping into a split, and grinding like you’re trying to break the laws of physics. 

chat goes silent at first. then explodes: “YOOOOO????” “MY EYES. MY SOUL. MY LOINS.” “sir pls take your jaw off the floor” 

kunigami’s entire soul leaves his body. he turns the phone to his face and just stares into the camera like he’s seen god and god had thighs and a crop top. “uh… chat? i think i need to… lie down. or pray. or both.” 

he turns back to you, slack-jawed. “is that how you normally dance?” 

“mhm. you like it?” 

“… is liking it considered a sin?” 

he hasn’t blinked once. he’s stuck between respectfully worshipping you and full caveman mode. 

nagi seishiro

he didn’t even want to leave the house. you literally had to bribe him with snacks to get him to your studio. he shows up in sweats, phone in one hand, yawning into the livestream. 

“yo… surprise visit to my girlfriend’s studio. pretty boring but i was promised mochi…” 

and then the door opens. brain: gone. body: gone. peace: gone. 

he sees you on your knees, head thrown back, arching and rolling your body like you’re trying to audition for a music video that will get banned from the internet. 

and the worst part? you're not even trying. you're just moving naturally, hypnotic, seductive, everything nagi never thought he could be so down bad for. 

he drops his phone like it bit him. chat gets a full view of his shocked face tilted sideways on the ground. “WAIT PICK THE CAMERA UP” “HELLO??? IS THAT HIS GF???” “nagi you okay blink twice” 

he doesn't say a word. just stands there with his mouth open like someone rewired his brain with lust. 

you stop and wave, smiling all innocent. “hi baby!” 

nagi just lets out a choked noise. “... you didn’t tell me you were doing that.” 

“you like it?” 

“i’m gonna die,” he mumbles. “i think you just killed me.” 

mikage reo

oh, reo’s dramatic on purpose. he plans this livestream with lights, captions, music, filters, and everything because he wants it to look polished. 

“yo guys, today’s exclusive content: surprising my gorgeous girlfriend, live from her studio. watch her cry tears of joy when she sees me.” 

spoiler: he’s the one crying. 

because he opens that studio door and immediately regrets every decision that brought him here. 

you are dancing like a walking, talking problem. expensive-looking bodysuit, heels, arching off the floor like you’re performing for the gods. hair whip, thigh slap, booty drop, all of it. 

reo drops the phone like it’s a hot coal. chat gets shaky footage of his hand gripping the wall and him whispering: “chat. i’m weak. this is it. this is how i die. i’m about to pass out in gucci slides.” “SHE’S COOKING. WE’RE STARVING.” “yo someone help this man” “THE RICH BOY CAN’T BREATHE” 

he actually shuts off the stream and just kneels on the floor, dramatically fanning himself. 

you glance over. “too much?” 

“yes,” he hisses. “too much. never stop. marry me again.” 

bachira meguru

he’s just happy to be there. bouncing around, livestreaming, waving at chat like “i missed her soooo much you guys i’m gonna surprise her and squeeze her like a plushie!!!” 

and then. and then. he sees you mid-dance, slow and sensual, rolling your body against a mirror like it owes you money, and he goes from 🥰 to 😵‍💫 in 0.0004 seconds. 

“OH MY GOSH, CHAT, WHAT IS SHE DOING, SHE’S POSSESSED,” he screams. the phone spins like a horror movie scene. “NOT THE PHONE FLIP” “bachira’s in spiritual crisis rn” “he got whiplash just looking at her” 

bachira’s head is in his hands. he’s pacing in a circle, yelling, “WHY DID NO ONE WARN ME. WHY IS SHE ALLOWED TO BE THAT SEXY?? I’M GONNA EXPLODE INTO CONFETTI???” 

you giggle and blow him a kiss. he immediately falls to the ground. 

stream ends when he belly slides across the floor to hug your legs and sob into your thighs. 

karasu tabito

karasu was READY to roast you for taking “so long” at your studio. livestream on. smug face on. all like, “bout to show up and expose how long she takes to get sweaty and look hot–” 

he gets his karma INSTANTLY. 

you are mid-routine, perched on your toes, hands dragging slowly over your waist, eyes half-lidded like you’re on the verge of something illegal. 

karasu chokes. not like a soft cough either. full gasp-for-air sound while chat goes nuclear. “HE SAW A GHOST LMFAO” “this is the horniest man alive now.” “SHE DID THAT FOR HIM. LOOK AT HIM.” 

“is the room spinning???” he mutters. “i feel like i’ve been smacked with sex appeal. i need to… hydrate.” 

his phone is still on but tilted sideways on the bench, catching him muttering to himself. 

you wink. he full-on drops to his knees. “nah, you’re done. the world ain’t ready for that body. i’m not ready. this dance? banned. chat, i’m confiscating her immediately.” 

ness alexis

alexis ness is not built for this. he was just going to drop off lunch. maybe record a cute “boyfriend surprise” moment for his story. he even picked the right lighting and angle for maximum aesthetic. 

and then. you. mid-performance. on the floor. heels on. legs spread. doing things to the mirror that would make a saint faint. 

ness claps a hand over his mouth like he just witnessed a murder. the bag of lunch he brought hits the floor like it died, too. 

he’s STUNNED. FROZEN. experiencing his own personal scandal. “what… what is she doing? why are her hips doing that? how is she– oh my gosh. oh my gosh.” 

he instinctively flips his phone camera away from you and towards his face, as if protecting the world from your insane levels of sex appeal. 

chat is FLOODING with: “why is he breathing like that 😭” “ness is SWEATING” “IS SHE DANCING OR SUMMONING DEMONS???” 

he stammers out, “i-i can’t even show her on camera. she’s like—she’s like if temptation was a person.” 

you finally notice him and shoot a flirty wink. “you like it?” 

he SCREAMS. just screams. ends the stream, sprints toward you, and grabs you like you’re being banned from public spaces and he needs to protect the world from your sinful existence. 

© 𝐤𝐱𝐬𝐚𝐠𝐢

[g0dlyunsub]

for the night.

the flight back from a case gets delayed and the team’s forced to book rooms for the night. what a coincidence that you’re paired with spencer.

pairing :: s5!spencer x fem bau!reader

warnings :: fluff, flustered spencer, this is literally just an excuse to write about spencer with crutches

word count :: 1.7k

author’s note :: one of my favorite tropes asfdfafssfsd we all know where this is going right ;)

accompanying song :: let’s fall in love for the night by finneas

“i have to admit, i am quite surprised. engine failures are extremely rare — statistically, they only occur once every 1.4 million flight hours.”

“uh-huh, very interesting.” you roll your eyes, but the smile that tempts to play on your lips is too overpowering to withhold. 

“it is!” spencer excitedly flashes you a smile. “we’re actually incredibly lucky to avoid an in-flight shutdown, which typically happens once per million flight hours-”

“reid, i think our luck might be running dry here. it’s 1 a.m., the jet’s engines are acting up, and we can’t leave portland.”

you take both of his crutches in your hands with an exasperated sigh. it’s not his fault, and you know better than to project your annoyance at him, but the disappointment of not being able to enjoy a nice, hot shower in the walls of your home has you uptight.

with an apologetic smile, you extend your shoulder to spencer; slowly, he places his hand on you, and you help him carefully descend the jet’s stairs.

the two of you are the last to join the rest of the group on the ground, and hotch sends an acknowledging nod in your direction once he sees that you’ve been assisting spencer. 

“l/n, reid, you guys okay with rooming together for the night?”

the words don’t initially register, and it’s only until spencer speaks up that you realize hotch isn’t asking – he’s confirming.

“we’re rooming in pairs?”

hotch nods, and his sidelong stare roams over spencer’s face like he’s challenging him to continue, to contest his proposal.

“emily? jj?” you pipe up this time, sending a pleading glance at both of them. they look back at you with sheepish smiles. 

“it looked like you guys were having a really good conversation back there. didn’t want to disturb you,” emily returns, slowly raising her shoulders and mouthing sorry.

spencer clears his throat and leans into your ear. “i can probably book a room at another place-”

you widen your eyes and immediately shake your head. “no, that’s not necessary, i’m completely fine with it! unless you’re… not?”

this time, spencer’s the one shaking his head fervently. “oh no, i’m entirely comfortable, perfectly content, uh- sharing a room with you.”

you display an awkward grin. “alright then, perfect.”

—

“i’ll set your bag on the table, is that okay?”

“yeah, thanks a lot.”

you heave a sigh of relief as you close the door behind you and rest spencer’s bookbag on the wooden table. spencer slowly lowers himself into a chair, and you gently lean his crutches against the walls near the door. 

you’re pleasantly surprised by the room’s decor; its soft carpet floor and mahogany picture frames hanging from the walls easily exceed your expectations for a traditional hotel room.

you’re about to make a comment commending the room’s quality when your eyes zero in on a terrifying sight.

there’s only one bed.

you do a double take, circling around the bedroom once more to check if there’s an extra mattress lying around somewhere – at this point, you really wouldn’t mind if the bed has a trundle.

“fuck me.”

“what?” 

spencer’s eyes immediately divert to you, and he stifles his reaction to your comment with a hasty cough.

you point to the bed, which prompts spencer to crane his neck to get a better view. 

“there’s only one bed.”

spencer’s eyes widen, and his gaze snaps up to your face so fast you wonder if you’ve just made a grave mistake of telling him. 

he was bound to find out anyway.

“it’s okay, i’ll take-” you start, but he cuts you off short.

“the floor? not a chance.”

you press your lips together tightly and gesture to his leg. “please, take the bed. your leg… you’re injured.”

spencer looks down at the floor briefly, a light shade of pink spreading across his face. “no, we can… we can share the bed.”

you feel your cheeks grow hot at his suggestion, but a refusal fails to surface on your lips. 

moving your hands to your hips, you nod slowly. “only because you’re insisting,” you murmur.

a brief silence veils the air, and the two of you have utterly no idea what to do next — neither of you wants to be the one to crawl into bed first.

but the clock’s hour hand had just moved past the two, and you know your eyelids aren’t going to stay open for much longer.

with a weary sigh, you gesture towards the lightswitch. “do you mind if we dimmed the lights a little?”

spencer turns, almost hobbling on his leg, and flips the switch for you. the room turns dark almost instantly, but a faint light emanates from a lamp on the nightstand.

“are you, um, going to sleep soon?”

you hate to be the first one to bring it up, but you have to — you can practically feel the tiredness tempting you like a fuzzy blanket.

“uh yeah, we should sleep.” 

you watch as spencer grabs a pillow from his side of the bed and positions it near the edge of the mattress. you’re about to ask him what he’s doing when he props himself onto the bed and rests his leg on top of the pillow, elevating his casted knee.

oh. as the realization hits you, you reach for your own pillow and gently place it next to his head. “here, use this.”

“that’s your pillow.” 

“i know.”

a soft chuckle sounds from his throat as spencer raises his head ever so slightly, allowing you to tuck the pillow beneath him.

“thanks,” he murmurs, and pats at the space next to him, urging you to join him on the bed.

once you’ve slipped your feet into the blanket, spencer stretches his arm to turn off the lamp and moves back to whisper a hushed good night into your ear.

you turn to say it back. “good n-”

his hand gently starts to wedge under your neck, and as he moves, strands of your hair coil around his fingers. 

he’s offering his arm as a pillow.

you lie frozen, your breath hitched in your throat, as his arm extends fully beneath you. 

“spence,” you exhale, caught off-guard by the sudden move.

“it’s okay. don’t worry about me,” he softly whispers, inclining his head towards your face.

you smile, though you doubt he can see your face in the pitch-black darkness. 

“sweet dreams,” you hum, and close your eyes to let sleep overtake you.

—

you wake up not to the sound of your alarm, not to the birds usually perched on the tree outside your window, but to the sound of spencer clearing his throat.

you think it’s a dream at first, but you can feel everything — the vibrations coming from his throat like he’s talking to you, his hands stroking a pattern on your back, his breaths tickling your hair.

you open your eyes to see spencer staring back at you with flustered cheeks, his eyes flickering back and forth between your face and… 

you follow his gaze and look down, only to see that your leg’s wrapped casually around his hips, anchoring him to the bed. with a panicked yelp, you immediately retract your leg and leap out of the bed, frantically apologizing to him over and over again.

“i’m so sorry about that, d-did i hurt you?”

your voice sounds scratchy from your parched throat, but how you sound right now is the least of your concerns.

spencer chuckles softly before slowly sitting up. “no, you didn’t do anything.”

you let out a relieved sigh at his response.

spencer grunts as he lifts himself up, tenderly listening to your continued apologies with a warm smile.

“by the way,” he starts, fixing his tie and reaching for his suit jacket, “we're a little late.”

“what?” you gasp, hurriedly tucking your dress shirt into your trousers, “fuck. how late?”

a pause, and then: “five minutes and twenty seconds.”

“oh my god,” you squeal as you fling your and spencer’s bag over your shoulders, “they’re probably all waiting for us.”

quickly turning the doorknob and making way for spencer’s crutches to move past the door, you rush to the elevator and hit the juddering call button.

“next time, you’re-“ you cough out as you try to catch your breath, “-you’re welcome to just push me off the bed. it’s guaranteed to wake me up instantly.”

spencer looks at you questioningly, a small grin spreading across his lips. “next time?”

you clasp a hand over your mouth. “wait no, i meant – hopefully we’ll never have to sleep in a room together ever again, but i’m saying in case-“

spencer tilts his head and lets out an amused laugh. thankfully, the elevator doors open just in time, and you’re spared the trouble of having to explain yourself further.

you bite your lips as the image of his lopsided grin lingers in the back of your mind, and the fresh regret of your words burns your face like a hot fever.

the embarrassment doesn’t end, however, as the doors open once again to reveal your team standing right outside. when the elevator’s chime echoes throughout the lobby, everyone’s heads turn to you and spencer.

you walk out with nervous steps, grimacing when hotch merely nods and announces that the plane is ready for takeoff. spencer makes his way over to derek, who tousles his hair teasingly.

“so, how’d you sleep last night?”

you freeze when rossi’s husky voice drifts into your ears.

you force out a smile. “i definitely could’ve slept better.”

“really?” he hums with a smirk, “i slept like a baby.”

“yeah, you upgraded your room, we get it, you’re rich,” you sigh, eliciting a hearty chuckle from the older agent.

once seated in your usual seat on the jet, you’re accompanied by spencer and morgan, who slump into their seats across from you.

you watch suspiciously as morgan wiggles his eyebrows at you and nudges his elbow into spencer’s sides. “so, late night, huh?”

spencer looks at you briefly, flushed cheeks failing to suppress the smile splaying across his face. 

“shut up.”

[auroracalisto]

Hey can you do a fiyero x reader where the reader is afraid of being vulnerable and he helps them?

yes, superfartninja, i think i can.

to be changed.

movie!fiyero x gn!reader, 3.4k words summary: to be vulnerable meant to be defenseless. it was a liability and that's all it ever would be. fiyero couldn't have that, now could he? a/n: please remember that i only have movie knowledge, so this will be based solely on what i saw in the movie. :P also, shout outs to house song by searows (was on repeat for this fic). erm. this kind of got away from me. i started it was 12 AM and now it's nearly 2 AM. hope it's coherent.

It wasn't like you to be vulnerable. It just didn't happen. It was like... asking a fish or an elephant to climb a tree, or some other weird analogy that you heard oh-so-long ago, when vulnerability aged you more than it helped.

To be vulnerable meant to be hurt. To be ridiculed, to be laughed at, to be made a fool in front of anyone who cared to look your way. It was something that you knew was not needed. You would be fine living by yourself. You came into this world alone and screaming, and you would leave this world the same way.

If you cut out the wound before it began to fester, you solved the problem immediately. Or so they say.

So that's what you did, long ago, when you swore to yourself that the pain you felt would be the very last time. It would never happen again. It couldn't happen again.

Oh, Oz, it couldn't. Your heart couldn't take it.

What was left of your heart, anyway. Sometimes you feared you no longer had one, especially when you feared the pain that would haunt you if someone else came along and made you feel that way again.

It's not that you were afraid. No, fear of being vulnerable was foolish. At least... you believed that you weren't afraid of being vulnerable.

Perhaps that was an act of foolishness in itself. Pretending that you weren't afraid. Pretending that having few friends and few moments of happiness didn't pierce your heart with every passing second.

Perhaps you needed to be better. To be vulnerable, to swear off that silly promise you made to yourself so many years ago.

But it was so difficult.

Being vulnerable was to be in pain. To be lost to a world of sorrow. To be... hurt by the very thing you swore you'd never be hurt by again.

It wouldn't happen.

You wouldn't let it.

He existed in the back of your mind. His beautiful blue eyes, the way those pretty locks fell in front of his eyes when he actually studied his books (if he ever did, of course).

When was the last time he actually tried...? No. You couldn't think of him like that. Too much thinking about his pretty face would ruin you.

You had only talked to him a few times here and there, and the first time was to merely ask him to move out of the way. He took up quite a lot of space—or at least, maybe it was his confidence. It oozed from him like an air of upmost superiority.

No...

You were just being cruel. He was just standing in the way, out of breath from singing to Galinda in the library (because of course—who didn't sing to pretty girls in libraries anymore?).

The second time you spoke to him was over the essay you had to write in your literature class. Peer reviews were the bane of your existence, and this essay, because of course it did, had a simple prompt in response to one of your readings: Taking into account the author's sheer disdain for the idea of magic, write what you believe Oz would be like without magic.

Thought-provoking, yes. You wrote a decent two pages, handwritten of course.

He gave you a paragraph.

If the world of Oz existed without magic, perhaps we would all be better off. No more bickering over the usages of it all, no more idiosyncrasies, no more debates on whether you are intelligent or mediocre if you hadn't the ability to wave a wand or utter a simple spell. If we didn't have magic, perhaps life would be far more difficult, but I also feel as if we should see what it would be like. Maybe there would be less heartbreak. More happiness to go around.

Okay. A piss-poor paragraph that made you wonder how he was even passing Madame Lillabet's literature class.

Maybe he wasn't.

You didn't feel pity for the man—nobility had the ability to do so many things that you would only ever dream of. Why should you feel pity—vulnerability—for a man you didn't know, let alone understood?

Oz, even now, his essay haunted you. You did your best with your review, pointing out the obvious things missing—a decent thesis, body paragraphs that proved his thesis, and just in general, an entire essay that was expected of the entire class.

He merely read over your essay and made one simple comment: Excellent.

Oh, yes, excellent. It was excellent to know that he was just trying to help your essay, yes? Leaving that little comment, even though you didn't make full marks—how was it supposed to help you?

Pity be damned. He was a fool, through and through.

Things muddled in your mind like they often did. Thoughts racing, heartbeat close behind the quick pace.

If you had magic, you'd be sure to quell it.

These thoughts were the one thing that you wished you could squash under the heel of your boot. They were the bane of your existence, the utterance of a foolhardy penance to the god of whatever looked down upon you and wished for pain.

Perhaps that was what was meant for you.

A life of pain—of pity from others, of the amenability to be swayed by those around you even when you tried, desperately, to stay away from those who may catch your attention.

Like him.

Oh, Oz, just like him.

Fiyero.

The man who'd lose his head if it wasn't attached to his shoulders. The man who once told you in passing that if he hadn't a brain, perhaps classes would be easier—then he wouldn't truly be all there, and he'd easily get around the... well, specifics of it all. The man whom you felt tugging at your heartstrings, even when you told yourself no.

It would not happen.

It could not happen.

You would not let it.

In typical, terrible luck fashion, you found yourself wandering the halls of Shiz late at night, unable to sleep. The thoughts racing through your head of so many things, not just him (although they kept leading back to the fool), they just weren't stopping.

An exam was to be held tomorrow. Perhaps you could create a distraction—keep the professors from being able to do as they needed. There were a box of fireworks hidden in one of the many corridor closets, kept for special occasion. You could whip a few of them out and create so much chaos that they'd surely have to cancel the exam!

You leaned against the railing, looking down at the stonework of Shiz's courtyard. A chill ran down your spine from the cold breeze, and for once, all was silent if only for a moment.

His voice brought you out from your thoughts.

"Y/n," he said, an obvious smile playing at his lips.

You squeezed your eyes shut and glanced back at him. Without saying a word, you acknowledged him.

"Doesn't look like your dorm," he continued. "What are you doing out here, all alone?"

"Thinking."

His eyebrow quirked. "Thinking? Oh," he softly hummed, coming to stand beside of you. "Well, that's no fun, now is it? What are you thinking about?"

"Nothing."

He snorted softly. "You're thinking about... nothing?"

"Whatever I'm thinking is none of your business," you retorted.

He stared you down for a moment, tilting his head curiously. He hummed again and looked out at where you had been staring moments prior.

"You are right," he softly said, voice much quieter this time. "Let me lead you back to your room. We have an exam tomorrow, remember? You at least need to pretend to sleep."

You paused. Since when did he care about exams? You glanced at him, fighting the urge to question him. You let out a soft sigh and shrugged, allowing him to lead you to your dorm.

The walk was quiet, and you almost questioned how he knew where your dorm was, but you didn't. He seemed to pay attention better than most (it was part of that aloofness, you've noticed), and it wasn't the first time he had seen you near your dorm.

It was at least the third. The number had to be easy to memorize by now. 133.

As you opened your door, Fiyero spoke. "You know, I've been thinking..."

"Dangerous thing for you, isn't it?" you quipped, not looking at him as you stepped inside.

He let out a soft chuckle. You amused him to no end.

"Yes, perhaps," he softly said. "But besides. I was still thinking. I've been... well, wondering if perhaps you would—"

"—no."

He blinked slowly. "What? No? Y/n, you didn't even hear what I had to say—"

"—the answer is still no," you said. You glanced up at him from the spot you had been staring at, frowning. "I don't know what this is, but we are not friends. Do not ask me for favors."

"Not friends, hm?" he softly hummed, leaning against the doorway as he locked eyes with you. So knowing your dorm number was just a fluke.

"Not friends. Now if you'll excuse me, I should probably go and pretend to sleep."

His upper lip quirked in a faint smirk. Not friends, but you still joked with him as a friend would do. He rolled his eyes and gave you a rather joking half-bow.

"Of course," he said. "Do not let me keep you up. Perhaps I should find my dorm as well."

"You should do that," you simply said, shutting the door right after.

You didn't give him a chance to say anything else, quickly locking the door and heading back to your bed.

Heart pounding, mind still racing, but not with the thoughts of earlier. No, dear reader, your mind raced with thoughts of him.

So impressionable, so—so kind, so—well, was he really kind?

To you.

He was kind to you.

Nearly a week passed you by. The exam went rather well, without any kind of distraction. Passing marks and a somewhat decent night sleep.

You do everything you can to try and avoid Fiyero. Running this way and that, going through all of the longer corridors instead of the shortcuts you knew by heart. You did everything you could to avoid his handsome face.

You did everything you could to avoid the vulnerability that plagued your heart every time you thought of him.

If you simply embraced the wants of Fiyero, perhaps not having a brain would keep you from thinking this way. You'd still have a heart, sure, but it was much better than keeping yourself on your toes wondering if you'd see the damned man at any passing second.

On the hour of the rising moon, almost exactly on the dot, Fiyero spotted you. And this time, you were not evading him.

He practically took off after you, leaving his friends behind. They scoffed and called after him, but he didn't look back. His focus was on you.

He grabbed onto your wrist as you went to leave, not letting you go.

"Y/n! There you are," he softly said. "I have been looking everywhere for you. I wouldn't have thought it would be so difficult to find you, but—"

"—there you go, thinking again," you blurted, unable to stop yourself. Your tongue was wagging faster than your brain was working.

He weakly smiled. "Yes. I know. How ironic, hm?"

You watched as he stared you down.

"Look," he softly began. "I truly—I do not know what I did to deserve you ignoring me at any which way, but I wish you would tell me why. What did I do, Y/n? I thought—well, I assumed that we were friends, but perhaps I was wrong. I find myself wrong quite often nowadays."

"I—well, Fiyero, I—" you paused. You squeezed your eyes shut and inhaled a deep breath. "I don't have friends."

He blinked slowly. "You don't have friends? What of the one girl you were with the other day? Milla?"

"I do not have friends," you repeated. "I have... acquaintances. People I do not get attached to."

"That is sad."

"What?"

He raised an eyebrow. It seemed like a commonality when he spoke with you. The staple eyebrow raise had to happen or else he wasn't really chatting with you.

"It is sad. Why wouldn't you want to get attached to people?"

"I don't want to have meaningless relationships," you said. You avoided saying, I don't want to have relationships at all. "Not everyone can be as friendly as you, Fiyero."

He rolled his eyes. "Friendly. Yes. I talk to people, but I would rather not have all the attention that I do."

"Oh, that's rich," you said, scoffing. "You play the popular little prince and then claim you do not want it? What is that, Fiyero?"

Fiyero pursed his lips. "It is just—this is not a conversation about me. I wanted to have an intervention for you since you seemed as though you were avoiding me every which way. Now. Just—"

"—an intervention? What? Please. You sound ridiculous."

"So do you!" he returned, hands to his hips like an older man scolding a child for something they broke. "You vex me, Y/n! You act as if you are interested in me, then run away hiding like a scared little pup. You act as if you are afraid to get close to anyone."

You stared at him, lips parted ever-so-slightly. But it was enough. You were done for.

He let out a curt laugh. "You are."

"What?"

"You are. Scared. I can see it in you. You listen to what I have to say, even when the others don't. I've made an effort to pay attention to you. To see what you—"

"—Fiyero, stop."

"Do not tell me to stop, Y/n," he said, voice low with conviction. "Not now. Not when I've finally figured you out. You are scared. But of what? Being close to someone? Having a friend?"

You frowned. "I am not scared—"

"—you look at me like if I were to touch you, you'd melt."

"That doesn't mean anything!"

"I can see it in your eyes, Y/n," he said, not looking away. He held eye contact with you and hoped that you would continue to do the same. "You—you're scared. To open your heart to the people around you."

You frowned, again. It was perpetual anymore. "And you're a sad man who dances and pretends everything is fine because Galinda said you looked pretty one day."

He blinked slowly, a smile quirking on his lips. "Maybe. But this—this isn't about me, Y/n. This is about you."

"What even is this? I didn't agree to have you psychoanalyze everything I've ever done."

"Neither did I, yet here we are," he said. "I've had a lot of time to think, to mull it over, and I know it. I know it now. You are scared. I don't know what happened to you. I don't know who hurt you in your past, or if something tragic happened to make you so cold inside, but there is absolutely nothing wrong with being... with being vulnerable, Y/n. There's something... magical, even, about opening up to others."

"Oh, and you would know, wouldn't you?"

He frowned. "Y/n—"

"—no. Absolutely not. You do not get to sit there and ridicule me for not wanting to be close to people and then not take what I give you," you said. "You do not let anyone close to you. Sure, Galinda, but what does she know about you? Does she know how you half-ass everything? How you hardly even talk to your 'friends' and just let them float along with you like everything is fine and dandy? You're as sad as I am, if that's what you're trying to say. Don't try to fool yourself."

"I am not trying to fool myself," he softly said. "I am only trying to make it known that I see you. I see myself in you."

"Oh, that's rich," you said, scoffing. "The rich, popular boy sees himself in little ol' me. That's perfect."

"Y/n—"

"—no. Don't. Stop. Just. I don't want to talk to you anymore. We're not friends. We never were friends. Just leave me alone."

It's simple, but it shuts him down. And with that, you run from his side, rushing to hide away in your dorm.

You couldn't believe what you did. Blowing up at him instead of listening to what he had to say. He read you like the children's book your heart truly was—while everyone else focused on the words, he focused on the pictures. The minute details that seemed to pass by everyone's mind because the story was flowing far too quickly.

He saw the delicate brush strokes, the intricate colors, the pieces of you that the words did not show.

He knew you.

And it scared you.

Only you knew yourself. If anyone else were to know who you were, deep inside, well, that would be disastrous.

It couldn't happen.

You couldn't let it.

Fear.

Perhaps fear was the best way to describe the way you felt.

You sat by the edge of the lake in the forest just beyond Shiz's campus, fingers gently brushing against the water. The surface rippled, sending small waves to the end of the shore.

You were afraid.

Of what?

Of a man knowing you?

Of Fiyero knowing you better than even your family once knew you?

You sat there, thoughts racing through your mind. It was as if you couldn't avoid them anymore.

Days had passed since you blew up at Fiyero and ran. You couldn't avoid him forever, you knew that, but it seemed as if your thoughts believed the same.

Tears pricked at your eyes. The warm, salty tears began to fall before you could even try to stop them, and a soft sob bubbled at the back of your throat.

"Y/n?"

Shit.

You quickly wiped your tears away and looked back at him—at Fiyero. But your tears wouldn't stop. A soft sob rippled through you and you turned your head away.

Fiyero came to your side, kneeling down in the soft earth beside of you. He inwardly grimaced at the dirt, but he said nothing of it. He'd bathe in mud if it meant you would stop your tears.

He reached forward, gently placing a hand to your cheek. He turned your head to face him.

"Y/n," he softly said. "It's alright. You... you're alright."

Another sob.

He pulled you into his arms, and you let him. You didn't pull away, melting into his embrace as he said you would before. He pressed his chin to the top of your head, situating himself so he would be more comfortable near you.

He softly hummed a soft tune—you remembered it. The one thing he hummed quite often when you caught him alone, or trying to focus on his school work.

Dancing through life, skimming the surface... Life's more painless for the brainless.

He was just a sad boy with needs of his own, much like you were scared of being seen. Of being known.

Of being loved.

Oh. Oh, that's what it was.

It terrified you to no end.

Fiyero pressed a soft kiss to the top of your forehead, gently cupping your cheeks in his hands.

"What's got you so upset, love?" he softly asked, wiping your tears away gently with his thumbs.

You shook your head. "I... later," you mumbled. You leaned into his grasp, and you could have sworn you saw his eyes soften.

He released a soft, shaky sigh of his own, before he pulled you back into his arms. He'd hold you until the end of the world if that's what you needed him to do.

Being vulnerable—it was the one thing you had told yourself you would never do. Ever again. And here you were, letting this man hold you and practically lull you into a calmness you'd never felt before.

Is this what it felt like? To be... weak? To be... frail?

No.

Vulnerability... it didn't mean that.

It meant that you were... open. That you had managed to open your heart to a more... malleable form.

To be changed.

To find the one thing in life that you knew would keep you going for as long as it could.

To be vulnerable meant to be loved.

[grandline-fics]

okay, so, it’s rainy and dark and i’ve got a nice scented candle burning—truly immaculate PEAK cozy vibes, basically, and it just made me think of how some of the older one piece dudes would enjoy spending some nice cozy quality time with an s/o. definitely mihawk, i think, but i’d also be very interested in croc, shanks, and/or smoker, if you have the inclination. love your work, have a great day, thank you for feeding us quality content

DESCRIPTION: Quiet, cosy quality time with them

WARNINGS: none, just fluff. small amount of insecurity in Smoker's

CHARACTERS: Mihawk, Shanks, Smoker

WORDS: 1,891

A/N: Thank you for this request! I love the cosy prompts so much and this was so nice to work on. I hope you like what I managed to come up with for this

First fic written with the new laptop. Guys it's such a relief to be able to write without fear it's all going to die and I'll lose everything. Here's some fluff and I hope you all enjoy! 💕

*REQUESTS ARE OPEN*

DIRECTORY | PROMPT LIST | KO-FI

————————

MIHAWK

Mihawk thrives in the quiet, he knows the life of a pirate and the fighting will always bring noise and chaos and the constant sound of attacks and the song of his sword slicing through those that he’s deemed his prey. Since founding Cross Guild the noise has only seemed to grow, no thanks to the clown and his rowdy followers. In a way he is in a small part grateful to the increased noise because now in moments like these, in the time he spends with you, he savours the peace so much more. From the shared bathroom he looked up at the sound of the door opening and offered you a small, calm smile when you emerged. 

You’d been out on your own mission and had just returned but managed to get caught in the torrential rain on the walk back to the base. After a successful hunt and stretch of time away, the hot water, fresh change of clothes, and being back in your own sanctuary with Mihawk was already working wonders. Immediately you crossed the space and settled on the sofa beside him, curling up against his side and letting out a long content hum. The lazy smile on your lips grew when you felt Mihawk press a tender kiss against the side of your head. 

The heat from the shower still clung to your skin and he curled his arm around you, squeezing you just another fraction closer even though you were already as close as you possibly could but still he needed just a little bit more. You were always happy to comply, pressing more and wrapping your arm over his chest and laying your head against him. As the heavy rain fell against the windows you felt your body grow even more relaxed. After letting out a long yawn you rubbed your eyes and focussed on the book in Mihawk’s hand, your mind sharpening slightly to crane you head back enough to look at him.

“Is that one of my books?” You asked with a small smile while Mihawk turned the book to show the cover to you, in false, innocent curiosity. 

“It would seem so.” He mused idly, adjusting the book to continue reading while letting you see which part he was at. 

“Oh my favourite part’s coming up!” You softly gasped with as much enthusiasm as your sleepy, relaxed body could manage. You looked to Mihawk once more, not surprised to see he was already meeting your gaze. You never knew how it was possible but the sharp, shining gold in his gaze filled you with a reassuring warmth and steadiness. “Will you read to me?”

“Of course I will.” Mihawk’s simple compliance to your request was so soft but made you smile broadly and you settled back down. As Mihawk’s deep, comforting voice began to read to you and fill the room it melded perfectly with the sound of rainfall and pulled you into the purest and strongest feeling of calm and protection. Eventually Mihawk paused in his reading, gaze softening to see you were fast asleep. Gracing another loving kiss against your head Mihawk returned to reading aloud for you to ensure he honoured his promise to you and that you heard your favourite part.

SHANKS

There isn’t much time or opportunity for you and Shanks to enjoy one-on-one quality time where it’s simply just the two of you and didn’t include when you were in bed together. Without fail you’re both surrounded by the crew as you sail, when you fight your enemies, and when you’re settled on an island for the chance to party and resupply. Even on the quieter days on the open water the two of you were not left to your own devices, there would always be someone-usually most of the crew- wanting either of your attentions in some capacity. Neither of you felt annoyed by the dynamic and constant presence of the crew in your free time, both of you were used to it by now. It just meant that when those singular little moments did occur they were embraced and made the most of all the more.

You woke first, curled up on your side with Shanks’ arm curved around you protectively, holding you tight against his chest and his head pressed as close as possible in the curve of your neck. For just a moment as you felt the haze of sleep lift from your relaxed frame you enjoyed the warmth of Shanks’ body and soaked in as much as the peace and quiet as you could of the early morning. You listened keenly to the slow rock of the ship and gentle lapping of water but there was no other sign of life. Then you remembered that you’d docked on an island, so many of the crew had scattered the night before to make the most of all they could see, do, eat and drink so it was correct to assume they found other places on land to lay their heads. Knowing this was a safe harbour, very few remained on board. Which meant…

You blinked and a slow grin spread on your lips as the realisation dawned on you. Ordinarily you would have just laid as long as possible but this was your chance to have time with Shanks without it just being in bed or with the constant chance of interruptions. Slowly you adjusted your position and managed to push yourself up just enough to smile at Shanks, amusement growing when his calm expression immediately shifted into one of childish annoyance. Even asleep your presence was something he was keenly attuned to and the added distance-no matter how small- was felt. “Shanks, wake up.”

“Just five more minutes, love.” Shanks mumbled, trying to pull you back against him again. You let out a soft breathy laugh and leant in just to press a quick kiss against his cheek.

“Shanks,” you sang out pulling back a little more this time, grinning when he pouted and cracked his eyes open. “Listen, no crew.”

“No crew,” Shanks repeated, his eyes sharpening just enough to show you he was waking. You began to inch closer to the edge of the bed, smiling the more Shanks’ expression shifted as he watched your movements. He wasn’t ready to get out of bed just yet and if he was he needed convincing.

“Lucky’s not here to guard the kitchen.” You coaxed him softly and Shanks grinned at the sparkle in your eyes, already anticipating the words forming in your mouth. “Let’s make pancakes!”

With a grin Shanks immediately followed you out of bed and to the empty kitchen. Any time Lucky left his inner sanctum unsupervised you and Shanks took it upon yourselves to show you were capable cooks.

By the time the both of you managed to make an edible batch of pancakes there was flour and batter on your skin and dusted in your hair, and all over the kitchen. With the kitchen looking like a canon ball hit you you and Shanks sat happily together, at peace and smiling, only focussed on the other and already planning what else to do with the limited alone time together before the crew made their presences known again.

SMOKER

Everyone knew Smoker was a gruff, abrasive, typically no nonsense man. If anyone thought lighthearted, soft, calming his face usually wouldn’t be the first thing that came to mind. Smoker knew how he was perceived, he was aware fully of his personality. Which was why it left him confused at times in how it came to be that you reciprocated his feelings and gave him a chance. Even more puzzling to him was that you continued to stay with him, always smiling and enjoying his company. Enjoying him. You were both busy with your constant workloads. Smoker being on long missions more than you meant the quality time together was sparse and when he did have his paperwork caught up on and had a day off, more often than not he was tired. Still you never complained and as Smoker glanced at you as you made coffee for your both, his frown deepened.

You approached the sofa and handed him his coffee, made exactly how he liked it, smiling softly as you settled down to lounge beside him. Smoker immediately adjusted his own position to let you settle your back against his chest. Wordlessly he handed you the morning paper and a pen. This was the routine it seemed, you worked through the crossword and he let himself relax from a long mission. Now that he thought about it, really thought about it, the whole thing seemed unfair. Sometimes he barely made conversation with you, especially if the mission had been a long and stressful one. Smoker sighed and dropped his arm to rest loosely around you. You let out a soft hum and lay your head against him more, sipping on your drink and pen absently tapping against the paper as you read over the clues. After a while he spoke up. “Is this okay?”

“Hm?” You asked, turning your head to look at him gently. Then you smiled broadly. “More than okay. You’re very comfy to lean against. You’re like a fluffy, smokey cloud.”

“That’s…reassuring but that’s not what I meant.” Smoker cleared his throat, glancing away for a moment. When he looked back at you again, you’d sat up and turned to face him. Your smile now turned to worry. “I meant is this okay with us? Are you happy that this is how we spend our alone time?”

“What’s wrong with it?” You asked curiously and Smoker felt relief to see your worry had receded now that he had explained himself a little better. “How should it be?”

“Well I don’t know…I just don’t want you missing out on exciting dates like the others seem to constantly talk about.”

“Ah, you’ve been listening to your subordinates again.” You mused with a growing grin. “I think we live exciting enough lives as it is. Getting to just put our feet up and relax? That’s the best, Smoker and it’s made perfect when I have you here with me. I’m happy, are you?”

“Yes, very happy.” Smoker admitted with a small smile pulling at his lips, feeling like a weight had been lifted. With a small nod and satisfied smile you returned to your previous position while Smoker leant back and let his eyes close as the usual tranquility settled over you both again. “Oh, you should know this one: ‘another word for adorable’…What do you think?”

“Cute?” Smoker guessed, cracking an eye open to see you’d craned your head back to look at him with a playful grin.

“Nope…” You laughed, lifting your paper to show you’d already answered the clue, filling the spaces to read  ’S-M-O-K-E-R-♡‘

Smoker blinked at the answer and then at you, feeling the tips of his ears heat and tinge a light pink as he quickly grabbed a cushion and lightly hit you on the head with it as your giggles filled the room. He allowed himself a small chuckle of his own as he admitted to himself that yes, the time with you, no matter what it was you did was more than ‘okay.’

——————————————-

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[roonotrue]

Twisted Wonderland - He Hears You Singing (About Him)

General Masterpost

Heartslabyul Edition, Savanaclaw Edition, Octavinelle Edition, Scarabia Edition, Ignihyde Edition, Diasomnia Edition

Prompt: While relaxing, and doing chores around the Ramshackle dorm for your weekend restoration of the barely standing building, your thoughts drift to love songs from your old world. You think of songs that remind you of your closest fellow NRC student and crush, and end up singing one while you work.

Reader: GN reader - They/Them pronouns and they are referred to as 'MC/Prefect' in this one. And let's all just agree that MC is a great singer- cuz some of these songs have mad vocals that I would never dream of trying to sing myself with my incredibly average voice, and I imagine a lot of you are the same.

Included Characters: Pomefiore Edition!

Warnings: None.

Request Rules & Information Here

~~~

Vil Schoenheit - "Blowin' Smoke" by Teddy Swims

- You made a vow. An oath, some might say. To do the new skincare routine Vil set for you everyday- weekday, weekend, holiday- he would text you and if you didn't text him back, well. He'd do exactly what he's doing now.

- Storming into Ramshackle like a hurricane. A very beautiful hurricane.

- A very beautiful hurricane that stops in it's tracks when it hears your voice echoing through the hall from the dorms bathroom.

- Oh.

- There are very few things in this world that can truly leave Vil Schoenheit stunned into silence, and yet here you are sweet potato, leaving him speechless as he smirks at the sound of your singing and follows the sound.

- He stands patiently outside the room as you sing, waiting for you to finish up so he can properly complement your voice- not perfect, but damn near close. Some proper vocal training and if you desired, you could play some major roles in the Film Studies Club.

- Once you do leave the room and are jump scared by the Queen himself in all his radiant beauty, he is immediately happy to see that you clearly just finished up with the skincare routine and smirks smugly as he complements you.

- Would love to hear you again, that song was very interesting after all- it's from your world right? More importantly, did someone inspire you to sing such a romantic song?

- Pry's a little bit as to why you were singing such a charming song- the idea of you singing it with someone in mind stirs up... Mixed feelings in his chest. Ugly ones, that he will absolutely be self analyzing later.

- But for now he's far more interested in hearing you sing for him again.

"Don't be shy, sweet potato, I found your singing to be quite charming- as was that song. Tell me, what inspired you to sing such a romantic song? Has someone caught your eye here at Night Raven perhaps?"

~~~

Rook Hunt - "Ready or Not" by Bridgit Mendler

- When Rook swung by Ramshackle, he wasn't actually even there for you- he was looking for Epel for Vil.

- But while on his hunt he found a far more valuable prize!

- Rook is enraptured by your voice- like a siren luring a sailor into the rocky shores, he doesn't hesitate to quietly follow your voice an hid just outside the kitchen where your cleaning the fridge and singing such an upbeat song.

- He pays attention to every word, the lyrics as fascinating as your beautiful voice.

- Waits until you finish the song before revealing himself with a loud applause and a string of poetic praise at your joyous performance- did he throw a rose? Where did her even get that? Does he just carry roses around with him? ... You know what? That's kinda on brand for him.

- After you promptly recover from the absolute heart attack that is a sudden Rook appearance- he briefly apologizes for startling you, but immediately falls into more praise at you wonderful hidden talent!

- And the song choice, so fun and upbeat, yet romantic- like the first sparks of youthful, energetic young love! He simply must know, what inspired your heart to sing such a song? Or more like who?

- The way he says it with such a knowing- dare you say smug- smile makes you think he might already know the answer. Might. You play it safe and brush the question off, to which he does feign a dramatic gasp.

"I can hardly believe I have not learned of this magnifique talent of yours sooner! Truly, Monsieur Trickster, are you certain that no one has pulled at the strings of your heart enough to pull such a wonderous melody from the depths of your soul?"

~~~

Epel Felmier - "In Case You Didn't Know" by Brett Young

- Let's be honest, he burst into Ramshackle to try and hide from Rook after escaping one of Vil's selfcare lessons.

- He does this frequently, but this time he's met with a surprise- the sound of your singing. Slow and sweet, echoing throughout Ramshackle.

- He's frozen in shock for a long moment just listening to your singing, mind going a hundred miles a minute. When he snaps out of it, he attempts to quietly make his way through Ramshackle, following the sound of your voice.

- Key word: Attempts.

- When he reaches the living room where your cleaning up, he trips over a broom you left in the hall and lands face first into the hardwood floor- effectively scaring the shit out of you. 

- He stumbles through apologizing, complementing your voice, and trying to explain why he's there in a tangled mix of words in his thick country accent that make you dizzy, his face the brightest shade of red you've ever seen.

- Once he does manage to calm down- with a lot of help from you- he does complement your voice a lot, and asks if you need help- if your hiding him he might as well help you clean after all. So you should totally start singing again. Cleaning goes by waaaay faster with music. Everyone knows this.

"Ah! I'm sorry! I ain't mean to be- I was jus' tryna hide from Rook! Y-yer voice is mighty pretty though..."

~~~

Another one up boi's. Hope y'all are havin' a good week so far- don't know if you could tell from this since I really did try my best- I'm not the best at writing for Pomefiore- these three are not my specialty despite Rook literally being one of my favorites (I just thing he's funny. Go you silly French man, go) especially Epel- I love him to death, but I struggle writing him sooo much.

I hope you enjoy anyway tho, and I'll see ya for another post tomorrow (probably).

[vampsol]

congrats on 3k!! can you do prompt #1 for sunghoon 🫶

𐔌 𝐋𝐄𝐗𝐈'𝐒 𝐓𝐇𝐎𝐔𝐆𝐇𝐓𝐒 𝐨𝐧 𝑺𝑼𝑵𝑮𝑯𝑶𝑶𝑵 + 𝑶𝑵𝑳𝒀 𝑶𝑵𝑬 𝑩𝑬𝑫 𐦯 — sunghoon tries to be respectful, to his credit. being alone with you, his best friend, in a hotel room in the middle of the night without another hotel room available, the two of you have to make do. he provides one of his pillows to separate the two of you where it counts, but at some point in the night, that pillow is immediately flattened so he can wrap you tightly in his arms, his lips centimeters away from your forehead. when you both wake in the early hours of the morning, no space to guard your body from his, you think it has to mean something, how easily you clung to each other in your sleep. but it definitely means more now as you press your lips to his.

𝐒𝐄𝐍𝐃 𝐀 𝟑𝐊 𝐂𝐄𝐋𝐄𝐁𝐑𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍 𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐃 𝐓𝐇𝐎𝐔𝐆𝐇𝐓

𐔌 𝐁𝐄𝐘𝐎𝐍𝐃 𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐒 𝐏𝐎𝐈𝐍𝐓 𐦯 જ⁀➴ 𝒇𝒓𝒊𝒆𝒏𝒅𝒔 𝒕𝒐 𝒍𝒐𝒗𝒆𝒓𝒔, 𝒑𝒆𝒕 𝒏𝒂𝒎𝒆𝒔 (𝒅𝒐𝒍𝒍), 𝒅𝒓𝒚 𝒉𝒖𝒎𝒑𝒊𝒏𝒈, 𝒅𝒊𝒓𝒕𝒚 𝒕𝒂𝒍𝒌, 𝒃𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒕𝒉 𝒑𝒍𝒂𝒚

Saying you could have the bed was the first mistake Sunghoon made that night. The second was him agreeing to your pleas to not be ridiculous, affirming the space was big enough for the two of you to sleep with no issues. "We're friends, right? It's not weird at all."

Now, as he wakes up to the feeling of your forehead against his lips, he thinks the only mistake that took precedence was getting stuck in the predicament in the first place. He could have roomed with any of the other guys for this trip, asked to switch with someone else before he could see the arrangement through. He had to stay in the single room with you, the one person oblivious to the workings of his heart.

Little did he know, he was also oblivious in the same fashion to your feelings. You've kept them under wraps like a good friend does—you had no other choice, anyway. But you felt the ripple of something when you woke up at the same time as him, his bottom lip fluttering across your eyebrow like a feather.

With the makeshift defense pillow between you both squished under your bodies, last night's addition of security to not make things weird long gone, it had to be a sign, right?

Sunghoon's mouth against yours clicks like a key in a lock, opening the door on years of unspoken words between you two. He pulls moans out of you like the first strums of a guitar, the song that erupts from you so willing and pliant it makes Sunghoon groan himself. He touches wherever he can, feeling your nipples pebble under the confines of your sleep shirt.

When he ruts his lower half against yours, his briefs connecting to your dampening underwear, the first thought he has is how perfectly you fit underneath and between him. You're perfect, so susceptible to every touch he gives you and he never even knew.

All he knows now is how much he wants to keep pulling each sound from you, taking until he gives all of it back with the arch of his hips into yours. You whimper and whine, and it's harmonious to his ears.

"I'm close, Hoon. Holy shit," you breathe. It's a wonder you can fall apart so quickly with so many barriers in the way. But did you expect any less?

"Come then, doll. Let me feel it," Sunghoon whispers into your mouth. He latches his hand around your throat with the lightest of pressure, and that does you in. You curse and keen as stars paint your eyes, the blinding white of it so beautiful.

You thought this could only happen in movies, two friends stuck in such proximity that it unravels both of their composure, but clearly your and Sunghoon's thoughts had been wrong on one too many occasions.

@gyubakeries @loserlvrss @frenchkisstheabyss @prkhaven @tinycatharsis @fangel @aaa-sia @yvnempire @addictedtohobi @innocygnet @filmnings @lovetaroandtaemin @xylatox @dawngyu

[pushingdaisies1]

Its never too late baby . . . ♡

(✧ ˚.) PAIRING-> James "Logan" Howlett {A.K.A} Wolverine x Mutant Reader >_<

(✧ ˚.) SUMMARY -> You were always someone who utilized your strengths. Physical and mental, you were a jack of all trades. You were a true hero to the students you taught within the school. Amongst the other X-men, you would always be one of them. But you had this little tick, that always annoyed Logan no doubt. You were a secretive person, too secretive for even his "standards." For others, you were a pillar of nurture and guidance. He saw your well-meaning nature from miles away. It was almost sickening to him how you would stretch your capabilities out to no end. He would never deny that he could be selfish. Sometimes it's more worth it to save your spine, than risk it for someone else. Though with the problems being thrown the team's way as of recent, he always saw you spinning your wheels. You wouldn't reason with him even when he of all people would lend you a shoulder to cry on. Even the students at the school could see it. With their childish snickers and big-eyed looks at your comfortable banter with Mr. Howlett whenever he helped with class. You were in love with the Wolverine. Again, out of all the Canadians - him? It wasn't something like a schoolgirl crush. It was an infatuation sort of deal. You burned for him mind body and soul. You would pretty much follow this scoundrel to the ends of the earth, even the end of your life if prompted. Which causes something to break between you two after you risk your livelihood for your family. The people that made up your heart, including Logan.

(✧ ˚.) AUTHORS NOTE -> hi party people!! I saw so much of the sweet reception for my first ever logan piece , so tysm!! Genuinely from the bottom of my heart the love means so much. As I’m currently going through my x-men marathon time if you will , I’ve had this idea brewing for a while. Thankfully the resurgence of logan content has given me the push needed to formulate this yk! This isn’t a part two to my previous logan post. That will be coming very shortly, but this is its own thing. Timeline wise... erm.... idrk a good place to put this SIGH. I'm thinking like in between x2 and the last stand. also one last final note , the title I took from Chemtrails over the country club. specifically the one lyric - "it's never too late baby so don't give up." felt like an appropriate whimsy title, nd I have been hearing that song everywhere lolz. Anyways, toodles!!! ᐢᗜᐢ (✧ ˚.) CWS (?) -> Descriptions of blood and graphic injury , they/them pronouns for reader !! , mentions of major character deal , Logan cares too much ... which could mean nothing , ur comatose for like the good first chunk of this , Jean and u have LORE!!!!! (not rlly but u and her have backstory beefers/her "passing" affect reader 100%) , mourning/grief, And that's on having no healing powers!! Buh-dun-csh!!

Your fall from grace was quick on the battlefield. This was supposed to just be any regular mission. You were using it as a way to clear your head after all. But you took a leap too far and now here you were, plummeting. The issue at hand was apprehended, sure. But you didn't leave the fight unscathed. Your vision grew too spotty for you to even make out your surroundings. Your hearing too even started to fog. Looking down, somehow or some way a large-sized piece of shrapnel metal had made it into your torso. Right in the sweet spot that was not in the lungs. Your legs began to wobble, losing your footing slowly but surely. You didn't realize your body was falling to the ground. The warm feeling rushing through you was the blood exiting from your hefty wound. It was ironic the last thing your eyes met before collapsing. Logan turned back around immediately once he noticed you weren't clamoring to the jet. His heart sunk to his stomach as he immediately sprung over to you. By the time your head had smacked against the ground, you went out. Your fingertips began to buzz, your fatigue lifting all of a sudden. All of the hurt and weight on your shoulders lifted? You felt freer than before, with a piece of debree stuck inside of your body no more. Even if some people regarded mutants as the next step in human evolution, a majority were still stuck with fleshy bodies. If only you were made out of steel. In this momentary unconsciousness, you thought about everything that went wrong. Your existence as a whole, joining the school. Moving up from student to teacher at Professor Xavier's school, like Scott and Ororo you were one of the first. Regarded as maybe one of the most useful of the bunch. No one could ever compete with Storm, the literal incarnate of a goddess. You thought of her as your eyes closed, embraced with the warm memories of your early days within the school.

The professor was never one to play favorites among his students. But when he searched you out and arrived with a less conniving Magneto at your door, it was clear you were special to him and his cause. From that day forward you were seen as a pillar of hope to a lot of the students. To some, you were like a mother, to others a guardian who would save them no matter the risk. To Logan Howlett - "The Wolverine", you were a coward. A coward that he admired. A coward he respected due to the ways you handled... stress in the simplest of terms. From the day he met you, he wandered around the halls of the mansion bewildered and confused. Something about you stuck out. He would've done something with this urge sooner if his eyes weren't honed in on another.

From day one you were not surprised how fast he fell and yearned for Jean. The woman you saw as your confidant, your best friend, she was magnificent. Smart and poised all in one with a strong set of mutant abilities. She was on the same power level as the professor, which made sense for their connection.

For living in Jean's shadow, you didn’t hate it. You were her right-hand man. Your balance was comforting, she was like your sister. The professor in small quiet moments of honesty to you liked to compare you to him and Magnus. When times were simpler they weren’t at opposing ends of the mutant kind spectrum. Yours and Jean's dynamic made you feel at ease with yourself. How could you worry? Your identity became a part of hers a long time ago. Logan saw more to that with you. Sure you could nag a lot of the time, and you always barked up his tree whenever he found ways to smoke on school grounds. But you just had this pull for him. He'd always find his way to see you first whenever entering a room. His brash and gritty attitude always got all mushy around you. He over time grew a lot more fond of the smallest details when it came to you. He was an amnesiac, his past only bits and pieces. But you made him feel grounded. You cherished his growth in ways no one else had. You were the reason why he was so drawn to the "now" of life. He needed that in times like this. He couldn't keep up for long after the realization that Jean was gone finally sunk in. Drowning at his one-sided attraction, the longing that he could've done more, you pulled him right out from that rut. Thank god that the two of you combined had horrible sleep schedules. His nightmares still stirred while you were suddenly afflicted with these with the memories of being on that jet when it wouldn't take off. That same pain rocketed through you every night as you were haunted by the sight of Jean finally swept into the oncoming flood. The feeling of grief ricocheted throughout the entire school. But you found your way to stay afloat. It was Logan, which you never thought of yourself admitting. But truth be told it was him. He was the most anchoring thing around you. Ororo distanced herself for the first month, while Scott cracked under the pressure of grief. Late nights dashing around the campus halls to the kitchen, out to the court where you two just talked. You had never seen him talk so much until you two became each other's support. It made you feel better seeing him smile more. Especially when it was at you. Again, you would never utter that truth EVER. At least that's what you thought. But his smile was a nice reminder of all of the light he held inside of him. As much as he despised ... everything, he was still so nurturing in his own ways. Nightmares were an excuse for him to be next to you. Nightmares were his excuse to hold you tight to his chest. The pain of loss was a collective "excuse" between the two of you to just .. be close.

Soon though, this ideal predicament between you both started to crack. Because even though she was dead, you still knew you would always be inferior. It may be all in your head but the hate kept you driven. It kept you driven but also mad. Small things would set you off soon enough. You knew deep down whenever he'd look into your eyes, it was a nice reminder of Jean. Even with how much he denied it when you came to him in tears, your bitter pain and grief clouded your judgment.

Logan saw that even with his help you were still hurting. He didn't want to get involved in it entirely as some of it was your own demon. But he saw how bad your spiraling was and still wouldn't accept his help. Not even from Ororo or Scott, not even the professor. Neither of you would admit who started the argument. It was late, and you were tired from pushing yourself to grade papers. Logan couldn't sleep and wandered his way to your classroom of course. The conversation was fine until he mentioned the problem. Your problem which you didn't want to deal with right now. As you were only running on a few hours of sleep. But even with Logan's usual "take and give no fucks" attitude, he knew he needed to push. You were slowly shutting yourself off this time, and he didn't expect himself to be a part of that mix. It was all a misunderstanding, but the two of you were angry and fire was thrown.

Your shared feelings were complicated. This whole ordeal with him brought out the "worst parts" of your love for him. He too was dealing with his internal dilemma. How could he move on from Jean and you were still latched onto the idea of her? It was a stupid question that was brought up in a Logan way, which of course caused the spat to escalate. His poor mistake was what he shouted. Already with the fear of waking one or even all of the students, you hated what he even dared to utter. "We're friends, you need to calm down about this whole obsession thing bub!" Originally you were thinking of just heading to bed. You were too tired to continue on with this constant bickering. But that's when you exploded on him. You regretted every last word you said to his face. Because it was you speaking your honest truth. About what you felt for him, about your hurt and your pain. How Jean was practically your lifeline. Losing her was like losing a piece of yourself. Especially since you rubbed it in about the kiss he and her shared. That you had seen and that made you sick to your stomach. A couple hours later she was dead. Your heightened emotions make you feel almost dizzy. The more you talked the more you realized his expressions distinct shift. As he was reaching out for you, you immediately swatted his arm askew. He didn't realize he hated to see you cry as much as he did until now. With broken sobs, you ran out of your classroom. The papers once stacked neatly were now laid messily all over your desk. You made sure to keep quiet. What broke your heart even more was a half-awake Rogue you ran into. She looked even more awake seeing your distraught state. Her feet tip-toed against the wooden floors of the hall before she looked at you. A big reason you and Logan were so close too, was because of Rogue. She was a good kid, he always rubbed off on her. He told you everything about how he and Rogue met. You were so enamored hearing him recount even the foggiest of memories. It could even be arguments with Scott he had, you'd just sit there with wide eyes as you listened. His word became your gospel. It warmed you to your core hearing him almost sound like a dad. He had looked out for her from the beginning. You always tried to do the same even when he left for Alklai Lake for answers.

It was so silly when she had practically pushed you and Logan to talk. She was just a kid and you two took up the almost suto role of her protectors. Friend or parent, she too found two trusted people to confide in. So you immediately went into "teacher mode" as soon as she saw you with watery eyes. She looked puzzled when her face met yours. You calmed down her storm of questions as she sputtered on and on. What's wrong? , is something happening? Are you okay? The hug you shared was one of the last meaningful hugs you had with another living being. You practically cradled her in your arms as you helped her calm down. She looked up at you, her larger brown eyes almost like the ones of a puppy. "Please don't be lying to me... y'know ah don't like liars." She whispered softly, her bubbly southern accent quiet. Your heart broke into a couple more pieces as you lied through your teeth. With a content nod, you bidded her a goodnight. Turning back to your room to drown your sorrow in god knows what. It had only been a good couple of months after Jeans' death that a mission arose. The X-men were laying low after everything at the base. For the school's and students' sake. But it was always on time when something bad happened for the team to fix. Old enemies came a-knocking and this time it wasn't Magneto. It was all supposed to be an in-and-out operation. You immediately clamored to get your hands dirty once again. You and Logan hadn't been talking for the last couple of days. Not even meeting in the dead of night to speak to another. You longed to hear about his afternoons subbing with Storm. This was your chance to regain some well-needed level-headedness. The thrill of doing what's right for a better tomorrow always made you feel better The mission even got Scott to come out of his puddle of mourning. Making you feel even better seeing your good friend so triumphant as he quickly clamored for his uniform. You and Logan didn't even brush shoulders as Storm and Scott dashed off to prepare the jet for takeoff. Everything should have gone fine. You should have all made it out alive. Every single one of you, that's what you had planned. Your lapse in judgment will always be your curse. Because now here you were, in the lap of the man that made your stomach churn. That made you feel LIKE that silly schoolgirl feeling you despised. Snapping back to reality, you realize where you are currently laid. Logan's eyes eased from his previous panicked look of fear as he saw you conscious. You were still bleeding but it seems that with quick medical attention either one of them got it to lessen. Your heart raced as you felt the warmness of his hands as they pressed against your cheeks. "Come on, there you go. Just focus on me." He cooed to your heaving chest. In the far back of the jet, you couldn't see Ororo or Scott. What you could see though was the remnants of blood on Logan's suit. He must have carried you off of the rubble and into the X-jet. Your smile was nothing compared to the horrid wince that left you. Finally, after this long moment of ease, the pain set in.

Going down to hold your gut, you shuddered as your vision all of a sudden wavered. You took in a sharp breath as finally, you noticed how in bad shape you were. Red filled your palm as you shuddered. Thankfully Logan noticed you and your shaky breath and immediately gripped your hand. Even in this state, you were currently in, you would always be able to focus on him. "I know, I know it's scary. You got hit pretty bad, but it's okay. Just focus on me and you'll be okay? I have you." He encouraged softly with that comforting rasp in his throat. His eyes were shaken and his lip was firm. Though his mood lightened somewhat because at least now you were awake.

You tried to speak but you were so weak. That same fatigue stung you as you stumbled over your words. He cradled you in his arms as he kept his eyes only on you. Your weary mind still around belittling you, another one of your eerily humane curses. He saw your chest quicken and lip quiver as your eyes began to lull, you were struggling. "Hey .. don't strain yourself - what is it?" He too began to worry as you saw his vulnerability bloom. Finally your chest steady as you took in one big breath of air. You let out the one thing keeping you from slipping back into rest in one huff. "Don't let me die, asshole." The asshole part came out more garbled from you after you coughed out your last words. Your last words before your eyes fell closed. For some reason, your hearing stayed for just a while longer. In and out, you could hear him cursing under his breath. The last thing you hear is Logan's panicked shouting at Scott, "Can this hunk of metal go any faster?!"

Finally, after so much pain, there was quiet. Peace and quiet after your constant heartache. You felt freed from the chains of reality. From birth to now, now seemed like your death. You left your current reality with a bitter-sweet smile as you felt consciousness swarm over you.

You couldn't feel how long you were out. Oh, but Logan could. Six weeks you lay in the infirmary. With some sort of miracle and hope, Ororo was barely able to stabilize you. The team rushed back into the mansion in panic as your wounds were assessed. But no, you couldn't feel the panic that coursed through your loved ones as you lay so peacefully. You didn't know your heart rate was being tracked. You were stable but anyone could guess it'd take you a while to re-reach consciousness. That your accident broke the barely well Scott Summers. But most of all it affected Logan to the core. He felt his world shake under him as he finally realized what had just happened. Something snapped in a man so stuck in his ways. Those words you said to him before you went back down. They were short but in the moment meant so much. Not to mention the fact that even Logan, so careless and free, was guilty. Every time he came back just to see you, he wanted to curl over and into you. Just like how he mourned Jean, he mourned you. Though .. he couldn't because you were technically still here. He may have not noticed it but everyone else could. The lack of your presence hindered him the worst. He missed the way you'd bother him out of the blue during the quiet time around the school. He missed you telling him about your life. He missed the shitty snort you did when you laughed too hard at one of his bad jokes. He missed seeing you happy. He missed seeing you move around. Pestering students for turning in assignments late or cheating. He missed the feel of your lips against his forehead when his nightmares of Jean flared up. He missed the way you looked at him. The way you saw him not only as a man but as himself. He didn't know how to admit it but he.. missed you. He missed you so bad and it was eating away at him. He spent hours out of his day visiting you. Like what you two always did when you were alone, he talked. About his day, what he ate, and even the lessons he overheard. The school got even quieter with you gone and he hated it. He felt bitter and broken, he didn't want to feel like that. He especially missed the way he felt with you. Almost like being on cloud nine. He finally understood the pain you felt when Jean died. This time on a more intimate level than he'd like to admit. He felt like the moon was ripped away from him after the sun. Now he was just the lonely tide, washing away against the shore until you returned. Ororo did all she could to help. All she could do was maintain your physical well-being as your body healed with rest. Logan hated the wait. The time you spent not walking around the halls of the school was maybe one of the worst times in his life. Since it hit him so deep on a real level. In this array of pain and even more guilt, he felt something dawn on him as you were still comatose. He was in love with you, Logan was in love with you. He felt like an idiot but the realization would always stay true. No matter how stupid he felt. As much as he wanted to deny it, he knew. In the middle of his thought process, he heard the swift slide open of the infirmary doors.

Right now he was standing over you. The one thing that kept his spirits high about your recovery was the gentle rise and lower of your chest. He didn't have to look behind him to know it was Storm. She too had taken her time checking in on your unconscious form. He sighed as she walked up right beside him. She gently cupped the examination table where your body would lay. She looked down at her hands with a bitter-sweet smile on her lips. She looked over to Logan, who was at a pause with himself. She decided to finally break the long silence. "You know they'll be fine, right?" She hummed as she glanced up to look over you. He chuckled softly as his brow pinched. His chuckle came out more like a rugged scoff. "I know, this just feels weird." He sucked in a breath of stale air. "It was funny the first night you arrived at the mansion.." Storm drew up a memory of that fateful night. "As soon as I and Scott brought you in, they immediately volunteered to help Jean down here with your examination. They were always enamored with your set of abilities. You were one of a kind to them especially, I suppose." Now his hands gripped into the sides of the examination table. He looked down, in pity of you and himself. How could he be so blind? Storm butted in once more as she noticed his demeanor shift. "All I'm saying is, they'd be happy to know how much you worried." He nodded in response, reminiscing when things were good. From your first encounter to now, his heart warmed. "I'd do it for anyone else." He gritted out as he bit back a smile. The truth was he was still in agony about Jean's loss. It felt wrong to love you as he had longed for her after all of this time. But you felt like a whole different story. He didn't have to sit in agony knowing that no matter what his love would always be with another. You always gave him the time and day, hell even down to the minute to just be honest. He needed you at his side no matter what you were to him. Maybe you were more than a friend, maybe he was crazy about you, but you understood him. In a way maybe Jean never had. Ororo knew he needed more time so she complied with the awkwardness in the air. "I'll give you some more time. Rest easy Logan, they'd want that." She insisted before making her way out of the infirmary. He immediately looked down back at you, before looking back at the monitor tracking your heart. He sighed, biting into his lip. He stuttered the only thing that had been keeping him sane since he last felt your eyes open. "Don't fail me now dimples... I need you." He gritted as his teeth were practically ground into his gums. It has become a regular part of his routine now. Once the students were back in their dorms for the night, down to the infirmary he goes. He could never be tired of seeing you at rest. Seeing you okay and not in pain. He just wished he could hear you speak. He hoped that you could hear his pleas for you to wake.

As much as he longed for you he just bided his time. Like the fool he was, like the idiot he felt like when you made him so weak. You made him feel the most human he ever could feel.

That day was supposed to be a normal day. Classes had been more and more brief. After the loss of Jean and you being "put out." But he did not expect to see what he did next. Going into the elevator to head downstairs, to of course see you as always. He was ready to talk about what you missed away and so on. His chest tightened once he saw what was right in front of him. It was you, you were walking? You were awake and on your own two feet. Your midsection was still bandaged but at least you were standing up straight. But then it finally clicked. Wait, you shouldn't even be walking around right now?!

He immediately ran to steady you once your expression went more absent. "Welcome back to the land of the living." He roughly inquired with a small, pleased grin. "I feel like shit, so don't start with me Wolvie." You gritted out with that smile that made him too feel all good on the inside. Quickly, his arms calmly wrapped around you. He longed for your embrace for too long. It wasn't like you were fighting him when he enacted this. You wrapped your arms around him too. He made sure not to squeeze too tight with your bandages and all. A gentleman must stay mindful, he could recall you poking at him as he had a beer bottle half hidden in his jacket.

Your head gently rested in the crook of his neck. That quiet he hated so much before when seeing you in the infirmary was warmer now. He liked the peace and quiet between the two of you when you were there WITH him. After some minutes passed, you met him back face to face. You eyes lingered as you watched the way he swallowed in with composure. You had longed for him to see you. Finally, all the puzzle pieces were clicking, and with your luck all at once. You knew before this would have never happened. It felt wrong and almost hurtful for you to be doing this. But go big or go home I guess. It was you who initiated it, and he gratefully complied. Still keeping you steady, once your lips met his hand immediately went to cup your cheek. In the bliss shared, all of a sudden it felt right. The tender embrace of your lips with his felt good. It was hungry and it was liberating. You could feel his heart beating out of his chest as quick gasps for air were taken. "I'm sorry." He uttered out, forehead against yours. "I know." You said with a sanguine look in your eye. "I love you." He uttered again at a rapid pace. "I know." You purred, your eyes looking back into his hazy ones. Things would always be complicated between the both of you. But deep down you had hope. Maybe not now, someday things could just be normal between you and The Wolverine. That's all you wanted and that's all you dreamed of. Yours and his timing by all means was horrible. So it wasn't surprising this delightful moment got interrupted by Scott of all people. You and Logan looked back, hands immediately darting off of one another. Time to address THAT later.

Scott's mouth fell agape as he began to regret coming down here in the first place. He readjusted his glasses with a small scowl. "Well hello to you too, and Logan." He turned his head to give him that same look. "Wanted to check on you but clearly -" He made sure to put a specific emphasis on 'clearly.' "That job has been overtaken by him.. I'll get Ororo." Before either you or Logan could interrupt him, Scott was already pressing buttons up to the main floor. Now that it was just the two of you bubbling laughs were shared. You felt finally okay. You felt like yourself after those months of nothing but remembrance. You and The Wolverine wormed back into conversation as you could finally talk BACK to him. Another thing you wouldn't ever admit was that yes, you did hear him. His gentle words would always be your favorite secret. After that display of affection though, your and Logan's bond never stayed just a little secret after that. Even after all the trial and error, and the more soon to come, you finally had another moment. Another moment that you could look at when you are older and with more grays on your head. Logan Howlett was yours, no matter how much the universe wanted to throw you around a loop. You'd always have him by your side, till the end of time. Nothing would stop you from cherishing this connection. Not even the burning phoenix crackling over the horizon. You and Logan against time baby.

ꔫ✉ reblogs/interaction is appreciated <3

[lovelylittlegrim]

SOMETHING BEAUTIFUL

@corrodedcoffinfest

Prompt: Yellow | Song: Yellow- Coldplay | Word Count: 1720 | Rating: T | POV: Steve

Relationships: Steve Harrington/Eddie Munson, Steve & Gareth

I came along

I wrote a song for you

And all the things you do

And it was called, "Yellow"

⭐️ ⭐️ ⭐️

Steve’s ears are still ringing from the music even after Corroded Coffin plays their final song of the night and thanks the bar for supporting them. The stage lights go out as they lug their instruments back behind the curtain. Steve makes his way towards the back, sweat clinging to his skin as he pushes through the heavy crowd of people.

The popularity of the band has skyrocketed ever since they started playing gigs at the hideout again. It started with everyone and their mother wanting to get a look at Eddie Munson the Accused, see the guy up close and in person after all the rumors and the murders. It ended with genuine fans of their music. Now, it’s hard to find a place to stand among the crowd to support Eddie and the guys.

The bouncer, a guy named Tobin, nods at Steve, letting him go through the side door into the hall where the band is chatting excitedly. He doesn’t make it more than a few steps before someone blocks his path.

“Gareth,” Steve says as politely as he can.

“Harrington,” Gareth snaps, catching Steve by the elbow and tugging him back the way he came. “Need to show you something.”

“Right now?” Steve looks over the guys head to where Eddie is being corralled back towards the stage, probably to sign some autographs or take a few pictures. “Can’t it wait.”

“No.”

Breathing out heavily through his nose, Steve lets himself be yanked back out into the main bar and then even further as they head for the exit. Gareth is small, barely reaching Steve’s shoulder, but the guy has strong fingers, practically an iron grip.

The door smacks loudly behind them when they step outside, the sounds of laughter and clattering beer bottles immediately muffled.

“Finally getting rid of me,” Steve can’t help but ask as they march further into the dark, away from the buzzing neon of the bar lights.

It’s no secret that the rest of Corroded Coffin doesn’t like him. They’ve made it clear again and again, but Steve’s never particularly cared about the opinion of others. He shows up for Eddie, and Eddie is always thrilled to see him in the crowd.

Steve gets it though. He knows he was a total asshole in school and the band remembers that— none of them had the horrifying opportunity to trek through hell with him the way Eddie had. None of them know him the way Eddie does. They don’t even understand why he and Eddie are friends. It’s not like they can explain it.

There’s an irritated huff from Gareth as they come to an abrupt stop next to Eddie’s van.

“If only I could, Harrington,” he grunts, “unfortunately, I’m a great friend, and after I show you this I don’t think I’m going to be able to shake you off ever again.”

That has Steve curious.

“Show me what? I’ve seen inside Eddie’s van before,” he says and feels a brief roll of warmth across his skin at how that could be taken. He hurries to correct, “Everyone’s seen his van.”

“Patience, Jesus Christ.”

The doors creek when Gareth opens them, the van listing side to side as he crawls inside and pokes around the sea of campaign notes and song lyrics strewn across the back. Steve watches him, hands propped on his hips and wonders why this is so important right now.

Just as he’s about to complain again, there’s a noise of triumph from Gareth and then the guy is jumping out of the van and snaking an open notebook to Steve’s chest.

“Read,” is all he says.

Steve makes a face at him, pulling the notebook away and trying his best to straighten the crinkled pages. He squints at the words, recognizing Eddie’s distinct handwriting.

“Is this a song?” He looks up at Gareth, surprised.

“It is.” Gareth's arms are crossed over his chest, and he looks exasperated. “He’s been going through writer's block ever since… since spring break, but last week he wrote this.”

Eddie hadn’t said anything about writing a new song. Steve’s listened to him whine for months about how all the words in his head just weren’t cooperating. But here’s the proof that Eddie had worked it out.

“Read it,” Gareth says again.

“I don’t think I sho—“

“Harrington, just read the damn song.”

Steve clicks his tongue, but listens. He reads slow, careful, eyes squinting in the gloom.

“Is this— this is a love song,” he murmurs. There are lyrics that are marked out, some heavily erased and written over, but it’s good. The lyrics are good. Steve feels weird reading them, something heavy and bitter climbing up his throat.

Eddie’s in love.

He swallows around the knot in his throat, tries to hand back the notebook when he reaches the end.

“It’s about you,” Gareth tells him, pointedly not taking the notebook back.

Steve blinks. “What?”

“He wrote it after the party you had last Friday,” Gareth says. “Fucker woke up at the crack of dawn and demanded we have an emergency band session.”

“Just because he wrote it after my party doesn’t mean it’s about me.”

“Right,” Gareth says sarcastically, “it’s about the other guy he spends all his time with.”

It could be, Steve wants to say but… Eddie is with him if he’s not with the kids or the band or his uncle. They’re attached at the hip most of the time.

The door to the bar slams open again and Eddie comes out with a wide grin. “Steve!”

Gareth snorts, reaching out a hand he smacks at the top of the page. “Ask him about the title.” And then he’s pushing past Steve, swaggering his way back to the bar. “And, Harrington, if you hurt him, I will get rid of you for real.”

Steve believes him, hopes Gareth believe him too when he calls out, “I wouldn’t!”

“Wouldn’t what?” Eddie asks as he ambles across the parking lot. The grin on his face stays impossibly bright as he makes his way over, dimming only a little when he sees what’s in Steve’s hands.

“Hey, uh, Stevie, whatcha got there,” he asks tightly.

Steve holds up the notebook. “Looks like a love song.”

There only a foot or two apart when Eddie comes to a stop, he’s radiating heat, temples damp with sweat and face still flushed from singing. It’s way past midnight but the stars are bright above them, painting Eddie in their yellow glow. Steve swallows thickly, tongue poking out to wet his lips.

Eddie's eyes are so dark, glittering, as they flick from Steve’s face to the notebook and back again. “It does look that way.”

“It’s good,” Steve tells him quietly. He offers the notebook to Eddie. “I like the lyrics.”

“Yeah?” Eddie looks almost shy, one hand taking the notebook while the other drifts up towards his hair like he’s thinking about hiding in it.

“Yeah.” Steve glances down at where the title is written in all caps. YELLOW. “Gareth said to ask about the name of the song.

“He’s such a little fucking asshole,” Eddie murmurs and the drifting hand drags across his face, pushing sweaty bangs out of his eyes. He sucks in a breath, slumps a little. “What else did he say?”

“Said you wrote the song after my party last week,” Steve slides his hands into his pockets, rocking a little nervously on his heels. “Said you made them wake up early to play it and everything.”

“Of course he did.” Eddie hands drop, fingers curling tight around the notebook. “Steve—“

“If he’s wrong about who it’s about, you can tell me,” Steve says quickly, ignoring the nervous skittering of his heart, the dry scrape of his throat as he speaks.

Eddie looks at him, eyes intense as they meet Steve’s. His mouth opens, closes, and opens again, words creaking out in a whisper, “your sweater.”

“My…” Steve frowns. “What?”

“Yellow,” Eddie clarifies. “Your— the title of the song is because of your yellow sweater.”

His sweater?

“You wore it that night you jumped in the lake, threw it right at my face,” Eddie gives a breathy laugh. “Scariest week of my life but you in that damn sweater was all I kept thinking about once it was all over and then…” —He flutters a hand, miming towards the past— “Last week you were wearing it at the party when you went outside to smoke.”

Oh.

Steve remembers throwing it on over his polo, the wind had picked up for a summer storm but he’d wanted to stand outside with Eddie. They had, for hours, watching clouds roll over the stars. The party had gone on without them, but Steve hadn’t cared. He’d enjoyed the night with Eddie, smoking and laughing quietly to themselves.

“We were supposed to play the song tonight but I panicked when I saw you in the crowd and I just— I knew I wasn’t going to get the words out.”

It’s hard to see the words from the angle Eddie’s holding the notebook, harder still to see them with only the starlight above them, but Steve memorized the line anyway. Heartbroken at first and then hopeful.

You know I love you, so.

He steps closer, erasing the distance between them. “So, it is for me?”

He sees the bob of Eddie's throat a second before Eddie murmurs, “of course it’s for you, Steve.”

Eddie’s skin is hot beneath Steve’s hands when he reaches out to curl his fingers around the curve of Eddie’s chin. When he thumbs along the thin scar that goes over one dimpling cheek.

“I love it,” Steve says and thinks hard, I love you, I love you, I love you.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah,” Steve nods, laughing a little as he sways in even closer, “I can’t believe I have to tell Gareth thank you after this.”

When Eddie laughs at that Steve kisses him hard, tasting the happiness on his tongue. Eddie drops the book, pages fluttering in the gentle summer breeze, and backs Steve up against the van, holding him tight.

“Next time,” Steve says into the kiss, “Play the song for me next time.”

He feels Eddie’s smile against his own when Eddie says, “I’ll play it anytime you want.”

[nottswitch]

Pleasee 26 and 123 with lorenzo and stutt 🧚‍♀️🧚‍♀️🧚‍♀️

hi, thanks for requesting, hope you enjoy this 💘

26. "come to bed." 123. "fix your makeup."

warnings: 18+ mdni, masturbating (m), oral (m receiving), cursing

⟡ navigation ; m.lists ; enzo m.list ; prompts (closed)

the way your ass moved in that skirt was the most sinful thing lorenzo had seen in his life. his darkened eyes were watching your every move with the intensity of a true snake, burning invisible holes thorough your body wherever they went. his demeanor was as nonchalant as ever, though, his legs spread wide on the bed, his hands clasped on his stomach. the grey sweatpants he was wearing did absolutely nothing to hide a visible bulge at the front, throbbing every few seconds underneath the thin fabric.

you were completely oblivious to his growing arousal, covering your lips with another layer of shiny lipgloss. lorenzo bit the inside of his cheek, his own lips already curled up in a smirk, and moved one of his hands down his body. his palm rested on top of his clothed erection, slowly moving up and down, which made his cock twitch even more. the way your lips shone in the bright lights coming from your vanity mirror made him imagine all the different ways he could make them shine from other things.

you smacked your lips together, evenly spreading out the gloss. the sounds went straight down south for lorenzo, whose hand was already slipping into his sweats.

"come to bed," he murmured, his voice smug as usual, but with a certain huskiness to it that immediately let you know what kind of thoughts were running through his head. you turned around, your eyebrow quirking up at the sight opening up to your eyes – lorenzo’s hand clearly moving, covered by the grey fabric of the only item of clothing on his body.

"well, babe, i’m going out," you answered, your voice filled with amusement and a hint of desire – it had never failed to arouse you just how much your mere existence could turn your boyfriend on. but then again, he was turned on nearly 24/7, the feeling only heightened by you being close – in this case, in the same room.

"don’t give a shit, honey,” lorenzo murmured, his hand lazily pumping and smearing precum all over his aching length. "shouldn’t’ve put this goddamn lipgloss on, baby. because the way it looks on you makes me think you’ve been planning this all along."

"no idea what you’re talking about, enz," you drawled, your voice a sing-song picture of innocence. however, the slow steps you were taking towards him were anything but. stopping right at the foot of the bed, you looked down at your boyfriend, your eyes eating up the entirety of his body and stopping right where his hand was still moving, the sweats revealing exactly what was happening underneath.

lorenzo smirked, noticing exactly where your gaze lingered, and it only fueled him to continue. if he knew you well, and he did, he really did, you’d give in right about…

his train of thought was interrupted by the mattress shifting slightly under your weight as you climbed onto the bed. his legs were already wide open, creating a perfect spot for you to fit right between them. your hand slowly, teasingly moved up his thigh, reaching his moving hand and pushing it away, all action coming to a halt. he removed it without questions, tucking his arms under his head and sinking into the pillow, watching you pulling his sweatpants down with that same smirk that never seemed to leave his lips.

now.

the tip of lorenzo’s cock was suddenly wrapped up in the warmth of your mouth, eliciting a breathy ‘fuck’ from him. your tongue swirled around, collecting the salty precum and dropping it onto his length in a thick blob, mixed with your saliva. your head lowered, taking him whole, inch by inch, until the back of your throat wasn’t so empty anymore.

"so eager, huh?" he murmured, the small sound of you gagging sending a pleasant vibration through his body. you looked up, meeting his sly stare with your eyes, and the sight of you in this position, with your shiny lips encircling his member almost made him cum on the spot. of course, he didn’t show it, only giving you a somewhat breathless chuckle as you started bobbing your head up and down.

traces of your gloss smeared all over his heated flesh as you sucked him off like he was the tastiest lollipop you’d ever had. lorenzo never strayed away from watching you, only sometimes glancing up to your ass, stuck out in the air in that delicious-looking short skirt that swayed each time you fully shoved yourself onto his cock. when your tongue started helping in bringing him to the peak of pleasure, lorenzo’s hips twitched and a gasp escaped him, signaling that his orgasm was getting closer and closer.

half a minute later, you sat up on your knees, your tongue swiping along your bottom lip to collect every last drop of white coating it. enzo watched you with a heated, yet irritatingly smug look, not bothering to pull his sweatpants up just yet.

"fix your makeup," he said with a chuckle, his tongue rolling against the inside of his cheek. "although, i do have to say, baby, that i much prefer you with this kinda gloss."

[thisapplepielife]

Written for @steddieholidaydrabbles.

Were You Wooing Me?

Prompt Day 11: Cabin | Word Count: 769 | Rating: T | CW: Language | Tags: Post S4, Eddie Munson Lives, Dustin Henderson: Matchmaker, Background Ronance (or not, your choice), Acting on Feelings, First Kiss,

It could be worse.

It could be better, too.

But it could definitely be worse. In the pro column, it's not located in the Upside Down, Steve supposes. But Henderson could have also not talked it up quite as much as he did. It looks like his great-grandparents just walked out one day and never returned. 

"Is there really only one bed?" Robin asks, pacing around the cabin, as if another room is suddenly gonna appear. 

"Looks that way," Nancy says, and Steve is pretty sure there's not room for more than one bedroom here. But Dustin swore there was room for all four of them, easy. 

He's a dirty, little liar.

Eddie's settled into the old rocking chair, and is gently keeping himself swaying. He's always moving as far as Steve can tell, but right this second he's looking distinctly unbothered for Eddie.

"You two take the bedroom, we can crash on the floor," Eddie says, and Steve thinks that's awfully generous of him. But it does make the most sense. He can't imagine listening to Robin yap about being stuck on the floor. 

This will be easier for everyone. Even if it means he has to sleep on the floor with the mice.

Fuck, he hopes there's not mice.

The girls go to bed, and he can hear them in the bathroom, washing their faces or whatever it is that girls do once they are in a bathroom together.

Eddie has started a fire, and it's actually warming up nicely. Steve has squatted down in front of the fire, rubbing his hands together as Eddie bustles around behind him. Steve's leaving him to it. Eddie was quite adamant that he didn't want, nor need, Steve's help.

It's still the floor, so Steve isn't getting too excited. But at least they probably won't freeze to death. They did bring a pile of extra blankets, just in case, because Nancy made them, and Steve's happy about that, now. This place wasn't exactly ready for guests. Eddie gathered up their share of the blankets, and said he was making them a pallet on the floor. Steve's not really sure what that means, but he lets Eddie do his thing.

"Tada," Eddie sing-songs, and Steve turns his way.

Whoa, it looks just like a bed, just without a mattress.

"Wow, how'd you learn how to do that?" Steve asks, and he's almost scared to mess it up.

"Wayne," Eddie answers. "I stayed with him a lot as a kid, and he'd always make me a pallet bed. Most of the time it was better than anything I had at home."

Steve swallows. That's a depressing thought. 

"That was before he had to give me his room when I moved in officially to make the state happy, of course. He bought a roll-away at an old motel auction for himself. It was never as good as his pallets, though."

Steve bets they made Eddie feel special, because hell, this right here tonight makes Steve feel special. It's not just a pile of blankets on the floor, which is definitely what Steve would have done if he'd been in charge.

"It looks really nice," Steve says, "thanks, Eddie. I would have just slept on the hardwood floor."

Eddie laughs. 

"Just get in bed, Harrington."

They lay shoulder-to-shoulder. Steve has been feeling some feelings about Eddie for a while now and he's just pushed it all down as deep as he could hide it. Sure that Eddie wasn't interested.

But, well. Maybe. 

Everything he's done tonight feels a little bit like wooing. 

And Steve?

He'd really like to be wooed. 

It's quiet between them, only the crackling fire providing background noise. It's a comfortable silence, though. 

But Steve still can't help himself.

"Were you wooing me?" Steve asks, and immediately regrets opening his mouth.

Eddie laughs, and Steve kind of wants to jump in that fire just to escape this. He shouldn't have said anything. He feels like a fool.

"I've been wooing you for months, Harrington. You just realized that?"

"Yes," Steve says, then adds, "No. I don't know. I didn't want to assume."

"Assume away."

And Steve wants to, he really, really wants to. 

Steve rolls onto his side, so he can see Eddie better. Eddie rolls onto his side as well, meeting him face-to-face.

"You think Henderson did this on purpose?" Steve asks.

"Oh, hell yes he did," Eddie says, and Steve smiles. 

He can't be that mad about it, then.

And Steve reaches out and cups Eddie's cheek, leaning in, his lips pressing to Eddie's for the very first time.

If you want to write your own, or see more entries for this challenge, pop on over to @steddieholidaydrabbles and follow along with the fun!

[jude-duarte-wannabe]

one order to be served by lewis carl davidson hamilton please!! oaty slice, english muffin, apple turnover and croissant with a side of tea, cider and pina colada 😁😁 reader is working remotely and having an online meeting but lewis is dying to eat her out and just do it while she was in the meeting 🥵💦

irresistible

order up!

hi lovely thanks for the request, i think this may be my longest story yet, i have been dying to write this and get back to writing after being gone so long, i hate promising to post and then not being able to cause of work, sorry for the late reply <3 your requested prompts will be bolded

pairing; husband lewis hamilton x female wife reader

blurb; working from home while trying to hide the fact that your married and pregnant is hard when your husband can't keep is hands to himself, he's just lucky you love him aka lewis eats his wife out while she's on a zoom call

warnings; oral fem!receiving, thigh kisses, belly kisses, semi public sex, body worship, pregnancy kink. [let me know if i missed anything]

tea; semi public sex cider; body worship pina colada; pregnancy oaty slice; "you smell like me" english muffin; "i could die between these legs" apple turnover; "can you keep it down in there" changed to "can you keep it down under there" croissant; "don't you dare"

words; 3.1k

currently playing; hands to myself by selena gomez "can't keep my hands to myself, no matter how hard i'm trying to"

"oh god dammit, boba no!" you scolded your two year old calico who sat on the stool next to your laptop, swatting at the screensaver you had set, picking her up you stepped out of the little home studio you'd made for yourself during the covid days.

"lew!" you called out waiting for an answer but after not getting one, you wandered down the hall and into the living room, as you carried boba into the living room, she squirmed in your arms, clearly displeased at being removed from her new favorite perch, you sighed, scratching behind her ears to relax her "i know, i know the pretty lights are fun, but mommy needs to work."

as you entered the living room, you noticed lewis sprawled out on the couch, completely engrossed in whatever he was watching on his phone. you rolled your eyes fondly, a soft smile decorating your face as you realized why he hadn't answered your call.

"lew..." still no response as his eyes remained trained on his phone "lewis hamilton" you scolded and that caught his attention immediately, looking up at you with soft eyes as he dropped his phone.

"am i in trouble.." he gulped, looking sheepish as he responded.

"not yet," you said, your tone softening as you took in his worried expression. "but you will be if you don't start paying attention."

you merely dropped boba onto his lap and crossed your arms over your chest "please keep her out of my studio... the album is due at the end of the month and i still have three songs to finish" you groaned.

he nodded numbly which made you feel guilty for scolding him over something so silly and so you lent down and placed little kisses against his lips "i'm sorry i called you lewis" you mumbled as your thumb gently traced over his cheek. "you'll always be my lew"

you left him on the sofa, shuffling to the kitchen to retrieve a bottle of water from the fridge but before you could move and return to your studio, a pair of arms wrapped around your waist, cradling your pregnant belly lightly.

"you smell like me bub" lewis mumbled into the skin of your neck, which sent shivers zipping up and down your spine.

you leaned back into his embrace, savoring the warmth of his body against yours. a soft smile played on your lips as you placed your hands over his, intertwining your fingers.

"i should hope so," you murmured, turning your head slightly to catch his eye, resting it on his shoulder. "i've been wearing your sweater all day."

he chuckled softly, his breath warm against your hair. "i noticed," he said, his arm tightening around you. "it looks incredible on you."

"well i unfortunately have to take it off soon" you groaned "stupid zoom meeting with my producer"

lewis sighed, running his fingers over your bump, the soft fabric of his over sized sweater rubbing on your skin gently. "can't you just keep it on for the meeting?" he asked, already knowing the answer.

you shook your head, a wry smile playing at the corners of your mouth. "not unless i want to explain to my producer why i'm wearing 'the' lewis hamilton's sweater" you giggled.

lewis chuckled, his eyes crinkling at the corners. "but i'd love to see see his reaction." his voice dropped into a whisper, your producer had always been flirty with you mainly because he thought you were single and lewis hated it.

you playfully swatted his arm, trying to ignore the flutter in your stomach at his proximity and tone of voice. "that's horrible lew"

"i hate the way he flirts with you, your mine" he growled against the skin of your neck, goosebumps rising on your skin. "and this proves it" his finger ran over the cold metal of your wedding band.

"your lucky i love you lew, your so possessive and you and i both know you like keeping this private, i like it being just us" you giggled, removing yourself from his grip, pulling his sweater up and over your head, placing it on the counter.

you stood on your tippy toes to peck his lips "love you, i should go" and with that you made your way back to your studio, almost waddling due to the size of your belly.

as you walked, lewis couldn't help but admire you in your white floral maternity dress, he couldn't stop the butterflies from fluttering in his belly or resist the surge of desire that simmered within him.

lewis had always found you irresistible but now that you were pregnant he could hardly ever keep his hands to himself anymore, working on your newest album was the only break you got from his ever wandering hands.

but unfortunately for you, it seemed that not even that would be enough to stop lewis anymore, he made his way to your home studio, feet padding on the hardwood floors as he went.

you wouldn't have even known that lewis was there, leaning against the door-frame had he not accidentally bumped the door causing the hinges to squeak.

"what are you doing lew" you mumbled, taking your seat in front of your mic, lewis didn't answer your question, he merely wandered over and dropped to his knees in front of you.

his head rested in your lap, hands holding your hips as he placed kisses to your swollen belly, each of them filled with love and a gentleness that only lewis had ever shown you, it was part of the reason you'd fallen for him.

"want to taste you bub" his words were mumbled but you understood him well enough, you shook your head "don't you dare even think about it" you softly scolded, hand cupping his cheek.

but lewis wasn't in the mood to listen, he wanted to taste you and he had to do it now, the desire simmering within him was pushing him to do so, you were beautiful and he just couldn't get enough of you.

his hands trailed up your thighs, his touch feather light and making a pool of desire simmer in your own belly or was that just the baby getting hungry again, most likely the latter you thought as a giggle escaped your soft lips.

"why do i even bother" you murmured as his fingers started pulling at the band of your panties, eager to get them off and thrown into the nearest corner as soon as humanly possible.

you lifted your hips knowing if you didn't that lewis would simply rip them off you and you couldn't afford to be down yet another pair of panties all because your husband couldn't keep his hands to himself.

you watched as his head disappeared under the skirts of your dress, hands gently parting your thighs to get a better look at your dripping cunt, the way this man could affect you so easily.

he nuzzled against the soft skin of your thigh, you started to get lost in the feeling when the facetime ringtone rang out through the room causing you to jump in your seat, you were so distracted by your god of a husband that you'd basically forgotten you were meant to be facetiming your producer.

"can you keep it down under there" you asked lewis and when he hummed against your skin, you trusted him, bad choice might i say and adjusted your laptop so that both lewis and your belly were out of view before clicking 'accept call'.

"there's the star i know and love" your producer; thomas's voice rang out, you glanced at the screen and smiled as best you could, with lewis currently between your legs, the last thing you wanted to be doing right now was talking to thomas.

"hey tom" you mumbled, voice quiet in order to keep yourself from moaning as lewis kissed at your thighs, slowly inching his way towards your dripping wet cunt with every kiss.

thomas began to ramble about the new album and the last three songs that were needed and while you tried your best to listen, your focus was quickly pulled away from the computer screen and was put into staying quiet when lewis's tongue licked your cunt from bottom to top, nibbling on your clit which he knew would make you squirm.

you nibbled on your bottom lip, struggling to keep your composure as lewis worked his magic between your thighs. you could have sworn you could taste the metallic tang of blood from how hard you were gnawing on your bottom lip in that moment.

thomas's voice began to fade into a distant buzz in your ears. your fingers gripped at the arms of your chair, knuckles turning white as you fought the urge to moan.

lewis's hands gripped your hips firmly, holding you in place as he continued his relentless assault on your senses. the thrill of potentially being caught only heightened your arousal. you could feel yourself getting wetter by the second, your body betraying your attempts to appear normal.

"taste so good" you heard lewis's mumbled voice and if you weren't so focused on trying to remain quiet and not draw attention to what was really going on, on your side of the screen you would've smacked him round the head.

thomas's face on the screen remained oblivious, still chattering away about chord progressions and potential guest artists. "what about olivia, we've been wanting to work together for awhile" you suggested when you managed to calm yourself enough to speak, your suggestion set thomas off on another tangent.

'good' you thought, that should hopefully keep him distracted for a while but you were once again pulled from your thoughts when lewis's tongue swirled around your most sensitive spots, making your thighs tremble around his head.

you were struggling to maintain your composure as lewis continued his ministrations. thomas's voice once again fading into a distant buzz as pleasure coursed through your body.

"that's actually a great idea," you managed to catch thomas say. "maybe we could arrange a writing session next week?" he suggested to which you merely nodded in return.

lewis's hands tightened on your thighs, pulling you closer to the edge of your chair, the new angle sent a jolt of electricity up your spine, and you had to disguise the gasp that escaped you as a cough.

"everything okay?" thomas asked, his brow furrowing with concern, he was always concerned when it came to you, sometimes a little too much for lewis's liking.

"peachy" you squeaked, perhaps a bit too enthusiastically. "just recovering from a bit of a dry throat" you lied, reaching for your water bottle to make it seem real.

lewis's hands tightened on your thighs, he was going to leave bruises that was for sure but knowing your husband as well as you did, he would also make sure to kiss them better because he hated hurting you, even when you insisted you were fine.

you knew you were completely fucked however the moment you felt lewis's tongue slip inside your cunt, desperate to taste every bit of you that he could.

your breath caught in your throat as lewis's tongue explored you hungrily. every flick and swirl sending shock waves of pleasure radiating through your body, your hips began to involuntarily move against his face the best they could with your rounded swollen belly in the way, thank god it was still hidden from the cameras view.

"oh god, bub" you moaned softly, your head thrown back in ecstasy.

he growled quietly in response, the vibrations only intensifying the sensations you were currently feeling. lewis's strong hands gripped your thighs, holding you open as he devoured you with single-minded focus, you were his top priority in this moment and his focus would remain entirely on you, until you tipped over the edge of your release.

wave after wave of bliss washed over you as lewis worked you expertly with his mouth, you could feel yourself getting close, teetering on the edge of release, just a little more...

"ah y/n, you still with me" holy fuck!, you'd completely forgotten about your producer currently working on a melody on his side of the computer screen, thomas was the most oblivius man you'd ever known and today it was working in your favor.

the fact that he somehow hadn't noticed what was going on almost made you laugh, you bit your lip hard to stop yet another soft moan from slipping past your lips and despite everything that was happening, you somehow managed to croak out a reply to thomas.

"y-yeah, just concentrating," you stammered, struggling to keep your voice steady, thomas nodded absentmindedly, completely focused on the track he was currently mixing. "what do you think of this bassline?" he asked, pressing play.

a pulsing beat filled the room, providing the perfect cover as lewis picked up his efforts, he wanted thomas to know what was going on but you were not about to let that happen, not on your watch.

"it's good," you gasped out "maybe try... ah speeding it up a bit?"

as thomas began to fiddle with the tempo, you felt yourself rapidly approaching the point of no return, lewis's skilled tongue was soon joined by his equally skilled fingers slipping inside your tight hot cunt as his mouth started to suck and nibble on your clit.

all the emotions and sensations that you were feeling was making your head dizzy, you wanted to end the call with thomas right then and there so that you could focus on lewis and lewis alone but you knew that, that wasn't about to happen unfortunately.

as lewis's movements intensified, you were struggling to maintain your composure, your breath quickened as you fingers tangled in the fabric of your dress skirt and hiked it up and around your hips.

as you did lewis looked up at you with mischievous eyes, clearly enjoying the effect he was having on you, his fingers curled inside you, finding that pleasurable spongy spot inside you as his tongue flicked rapidly over your sensitive bud, you swore you could feel lewis smile agaisnt you.

"is everything alright?" thomas asked, finally beginning to notice how quiet you were being on this call compared to all the other video calls you'd shared over these past few months.

"ah.. actually no" you stammered out. "i think i might be coming down with something" you lied to thomas for a second time today.

lewis increased his pace, determined to push you over the edge, you weren't sure how much longer you were going to be able to hold on.

your breath hitched as you tried to maintain your composure, thomas's concerned voice crackled through the phone, "do you need to rest? we can talk later if you're not feeling well."

"n-no, it's okay," you managed to mutter, lewis's fingers dug into your thighs, his tongue and finger's relentless rhythm threatening to unravel you completely.

"are you sure?" thomas pressed, clearly unconvinced. "you sound... strange." panic fluttered in your chest. you couldn't let him suspect what was really happening. "i'm fine, really," you insisted, your voice strained. "just a bit of a headache." you reached for your water once more.

lewis pulled away from your cunt, his fingers slipping out of your warm cunt as well, his breath was hot against the skin of your thighs as he whispered, "tell him you have to go” oh how you prayed thomas hadn't heard that.

you felt a shiver run down your spine at lewis's command. your mind raced, torn between the overwhelming sensations that your husband was making you feel and the need to stay on the video call with thomas and finish the album.

"actually," you gasped out, "i think i might need to lie down for a bit." you had caved, mind you with a husband like lewis, who wouldn't cave when asked.

"of course," thomas replied, his voice laced with genuine concern for you "get some rest. we can catch up tomorrow."

"thanks," you whispered, your finger moved the cursor so it was hovering over the end call button. "i'll text you later." as soon as the call disconnected, a low moan escaped your lips.

lewis looked up at you again "good girl," he murmured, his voice husky with desire for you, his beautiful wife. "now, let me hear you properly."

you finally allowed you restraint crumble and you cried out, no longer having to hide the pleasure coursing through your body. "your a fucking menace lew" you scolded your husband as he went back to work, tongue flicking across your clit with renewed fervor.

lewis chuckled against your sensitive core, the vibrations sending shock waves of pleasure through you once more, his strong hands which you loved oh so much gripped at your thighs, holding you in place as you writhed in your seat.

"you love it," he murmured "no i love you" you replied, fingers tangling in with his twisted braids "my handsome handsome husband"

"don't you dare stop," you gasped, your voice hoarse with need, lewis redoubled his efforts, alternating between gentle licks and firm pressure, he slid two fingers inside you, curling them just so and that's when you saw stars, your back arched as waves of ecstasy washed over you

"that's it, baby," lewis encouraged, your body trembled as he guided you through the aftershocks of your orgasm, his touch now feather-light and teasing, when your breathing finally steadied, he kissed a trail up your body paying special attention to your bump before capturing your lips in a searing kiss, you swore you could taste yourself on his tongue.

"you're so beautiful when you come undone," he murmured pulling away his voice low and husky, his hands rubbed at your thighs soothingly "i could die between these legs" he chuckled.

"i am so going to write a song about this" you teased with a giggle, hand cupping his cheek as you stared into the brown eyes you loved so much, that could be a pretty could be an interesting way to announce your relationship you thought.

he leaned into your touch, a soft smile playing on his lips. "oh yeah? what's it gonna be called?" he asked, his fingers tracing lazy patterns on your skin.

"hmm," you pondered, pretending to think hard. "how about 'the ballad of lewis's talented tongue'?" you joked.

lewis could help but burst out in laughter, burying his face in your neck, "cheeky," he mumbled against your skin, pressing a soft kiss there. "i like it though but i might have to fight you for the rights to it."

you ran your thumb across his cheek, reveling in the intimacy of the moment. "we could always collaborate," you suggested, your voice softening. "i think we would make beautiful music together."

lewis lifted his head, meeting your gaze with a tender look that made your heart skip. "we already do, love,"

[zeroseuniverse]

so i read your skz figuring out their partner got a singing voice and i ate it up, but what about rapping. like rap god, nissan altima type rap or if your feeling spunky denial is a river conversational rap shit. and like, the reader BODIES the song, bar for bar, literally knows it like they made the song themselves

obviously i 110% understand if you wouldn’t want to do this due to its repetitive nature with the singing prompt, but idk im js more into flowy rap music instead of belty songs and i was js pondering

Stray Kids Reacting to Their S/O Secretly Being an Insane Rapper

Bang Chan

Chan’s working on a beat in the studio, absentmindedly humming when you suddenly start rapping along to a song at full speed. He stops everything. The track is still playing, but he’s just staring at you, mouth slightly open. "Hold on. HOLD ON. Since when—HELLO?" He rewinds the beat, pointing at you. "Do it again. I need to confirm that wasn’t a fluke." Once you go off again, he’s convinced. Immediate producer mode activated. He’s already layering adlibs in his head. "We’re making a song. This is non-negotiable."

Lee Know

Minho’s driving when you absentmindedly start rapping, barely paying attention to how flawlessly you’re hitting every syllable. He, however, nearly forgets how to operate the vehicle. "You’re joking." He looks at you, then back at the road, then back at you, blinking in disbelief. "Am I dating a rapper and I didn’t know?" Plays it cool but is secretly so impressed that he’s replaying the song just to hear you go off again. Later, you catch him trying to match your flow when he thinks you're not listening.

Changbin

You’re both hyping each other up to a rap song when you suddenly go off—full speed, no stumbles, perfect delivery. Changbin, mid-rhyme, chokes on air. "WAIT. TIME OUT." He physically grabs your arm, eyes wide. "WHY DIDN’T YOU TELL ME YOU COULD RAP LIKE THAT?!" Suddenly, he’s throwing instrumentals at you, demanding you try different beats. He’s hyping you up so hard, it’s basically a rap cypher now. "You and me? Rap duo. Think about it."

Hyunjin

Hyunjin’s scrolling on his phone when you casually spit a full-speed verse, no mistakes. He glances up slowly, eyebrows furrowed. "...Excuse me?" Then it clicks, and he gasps. "WHY WAS THAT SO HOT?!" Grabs his phone and immediately starts recording. He’s losing it, acting like he just discovered a hidden gem. "Can you do that again? Wait—say my name in the rap voice." This is now his favorite thing about you.

Han

Han’s rapping dramatically, adding sound effects and adlibs, when you suddenly match his energy and destroy the verse. He freezes mid-word, hands on his head. "YO, YO, YO—WHAT??" Looks personally offended, like you just out-rapped him in his own house. "Where did THAT come from?! Have you been hiding this?!" Forces you to do a rap battle immediately. He’s not even mad—just shook and so entertained. "We need a duo name. Right now."

Felix

Felix is driving peacefully, enjoying the music, when you start rapping perfectly—every word, every pause, every switch-up. He grips the wheel tighter. "...Huh?" Looks over at you, then back at the road, then back at you. "I think I just fell in love again." His deep laugh fills the car as he starts replaying the track just to hear you do it again. Now he needs you to rap every song you know.

Seungmin

Seungmin’s jamming along, vibing, when you suddenly annihilate a verse at high speed. He stops moving. Just stares. "……Interesting." When you finish, he raises a brow. "So, you’ve been sitting on this talent while I embarrass myself at karaoke?" Acts unimpressed, but later, you catch him playing that song again just to see if you’ll do it. And when you do? Smirks and nods. "Yeah. That’s my partner."

I.N

Jeongin’s messing around, rapping with exaggerated confidence, when you casually jump in and outperform him completely. He stops, hands gripping the wheel. "...No way." He’s laughing in shock, shaking his head. "YOU CAN RAP?! SINCE WHEN?!" Won’t let it go. Will bring it up at dinner. At practice. To the members. "Did you guys know my partner is a rapper? A WHOLE rapper?!"

[daisymbin]

46. "you doodled hearts in my notebook again." with woozi :’)

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fluff prompt #46: "you doodled hearts in my notebook again."

jihoon flipped open his notebook, ready to show the boys the new lyrics he'd been working on. the practice room was its usual chaos—mingyu rummaging through snack bags, chan tapping out a beat on his knee—but they quieted when jihoon cleared his throat.

“alright, listen to this,” he began, but the words caught in his throat when he looked down.

his notebook, usually filled with meticulous handwriting and carefully crafted lyrics, was now decorated with tiny hearts scattered across the margins.

“oh my god,” mingyu gasped, leaning over before jihoon could close the notebook. “again?”

chan burst into laughter, craning his neck to look. “that’s the third time this month, isn’t it? your notebook’s turning into a scrapbook.”

“it’s cute,” mingyu teased, smirking as he leaned back in his chair. “you know she does it because she loves you, right?”

jihoon sighed, snapping the notebook shut. “can we focus on the lyrics?”

chan grinned, nudging mingyu. “i think he likes it, though. look at him blushing.”

“i’m not blushing,” jihoon shot back, his ears burning as he stuffed the notebook into his bag.

mingyu waved him off with a laugh. “whatever you say, loverboy. now, are you going to play us the song, or are we just here for show-and-tell?”

“the song,” jihoon muttered, trying to suppress the small smile tugging at his lips. no matter how much they teased him, he couldn’t deny how those little hearts made him feel.

later that evening, jihoon walked through the front door of your shared apartment, the soft glow of the living room lights welcoming him home. you were on the couch, wrapped in a blanket, flipping through a book. you looked up when you heard him, your face lighting up.

“you’re home,” you light up, setting the book aside. “how was work today?”

jihoon shrugged off his bag and walked over to join you on the couch. he sat beside you, leaning his head against your shoulder as the rest of his body melts against you. he let out a tired sigh, but there was something warm and soft in his expression.

“it was fine,” he said, glancing up at you. after a beat, a small smile crept onto his face. “you doodled hearts in my notebook again.”

your eyes widened, and you immediately covered your mouth to stifle a laugh. “oh no. did the guys see?”

jihoon nodded, the memory still fresh in his mind. “mingyu wouldn’t shut up about it. chan either.”

“i’m sorry,” you said, though you couldn’t help the giggle that escaped. “i didn’t think they’d notice.”

jihoon shook his head, the corners of his mouth twitching. “they notice everything. but it’s fine.”

you raised an eyebrow. “fine? you didn’t hate it?”

he let out a soft chuckle, leaning his head back against the couch. “hate it? no. i mean... it’s a tiny bit embarrassing, sure, but...”

“but what?” you pressed, leaning closer to him.

he glanced at you, his expression softening. “but it’s nice. it makes me think of you while i’m working.”

your cheeks flushed, and you couldn’t help the grin that spread across your face. “so you do like it.”

jihoon rolled his eyes, but the smile didn’t leave his face. “don’t push it.”

“you’re so cute when you’re flustered,” you teased, poking his cheek. “maybe i should add more next time.”

“just don’t cover up my lyrics,” he muttered, though his tone was light.

you let out a laugh, holding out your pinky.

he stared at your pinky for a moment before linking it with his, a small chuckle escaping his lips.

“you know,” he said after a moment, his voice quieter, “those little things you do... they mean a lot. even if mingyu and chan make it their mission to humiliate me over it.”

you leaned your head on his shoulder, your smile softening. “you really think so? i can stop if it makes you uncomfortable.”

jihoon’s eyes widened slightly, and he shook his head quickly. “no, don’t stop. i like it.”

you tilted your head to look at him, surprised by how earnest he sounded. “even if the guys keep teasing you about it?”

he let out a soft chuckle, his fingers brushing against yours. “let them. they can say whatever they want. it doesn’t matter.”

“why not?” you asked quietly, your voice barely above a whisper.

jihoon turned his head to meet your gaze, his expression warm and sincere. “because it’s you. and i love everything about you. even your silly little doodles.”

your heart skipped at his words, the quiet affection in his voice making your chest ache in the best way. you smiled, letting your hand slip into his, your fingers intertwining.

“okay,” you murmured, your voice teasing but soft. “i won’t stop, then.”

jihoon smiled back, pressing a light kiss to your temple. “good. because, i dont want you to. & honestly, i think i’d miss them if you did.”

and for a moment, the teasing and chaos of the day faded away, leaving just the two of you in the quiet comfort of home. the hearts you doodled might have been small, but to jihoon, they were reminders of everything he cherished about you—your love, your care, and the way you always managed to brighten his day.