#i try to get it set up and ready the night before

[trh0d3s]

Manager in the making!

Part1! After the prologue 😈

Saja boys x human manager reader

The morning light floods the living room waking you up from a good ass dream you were having… it was definitely not world domination via conquering the agency and kicking bobmagatron 2000 the man child in the face! No…Definitely not...

The regrets of last night’s fridge raid hitting your stomach and your wallet.

You sit up on your couch kicking a half empty can of soda that was dangerously close to your foot onto the floor.…on your phone! “ah shit-“Cursing more awake than ever you throw your blanket on the wet spot trying dry up where it got on your phone. This happened once but with grape juice and you missed a call from an employer which ended up getting you fired and passing your opportunity to someone else. Picking up the precious object with your poor blanket checking over it before turning it on. A sigh of relief it still works! Ok, maybe it’s still broken cause that can’t be a reply to one of your ads…?

You walk to the kitchen in your one-bedroom apartment eyes glued to the screen in both shock and horror mindlessly bumping into the chairs and small dining table to make it to the coffee maker. It was from craigslist…the one you hesitating to put up, you heard the stories from there and REALY don’t want to manage some kink or underground drug ring...

It’s all you got right now so if it’s something weird just turn tail and run! Maybe report to the police too if it’s the drug ring route. You punch in the buttons for the coffee to start brewing not too keen on drinking 2-day old coffee you left on a hurry to a company meet and greet.

Fromk:Xx//Demonboy//xx@gmal.com

To:._____________@gmal.com

Subject: We need a manager

We have looked at your skills and are willing to pay a set price of your choosing for your skills to manage our start up boy band.

The mug misses your mouth reading through the email. Boy band? Was expecting something off from craigslist also what is up with that email? I know I was 13 once but as a professional email…?

This boy band consists of 5 members you won’t need to worry about money whatever you need or want will be given to you. If you agree meet us at this location/_________/ at 12pm.

Very vague and mysterious… that place is only a couple blocks down, a small square with various food stands around. Popular spot for weekends and popups. ”Weird…bit at least its public” You mumble mid sip at your coffee, looking at the time 11.:40…OK YOU WILL QUESTION THIS LATER. Dumping your drink in the sink you rush to your room to get dressed something professional casual for a good first impression. This might be potential kidnapping but if the off chance it isn’t you have to be ready to wow to dazzle and get that bank! Cleaning up your living room will be held off for later, you shove your feet into your shoes grabbing you keys and phone. This might be your chance! (What do you think of that L this is my perfect victory-! I mean who said that!?)

The walk to small square was short but loud everyone was buzzing about the new single that dropped last night. Thought the girls were supposed to go on break before the idol’s awards? Guess if you love your craft every break is too long.  Screens showing the countdown passed you, people huddling together on their phone staring at the screen with mumbles and squeals of excitement.  

Ok what would a group of boy band wannabes look like? Dressed to the nines or playing it lowkey? You pass a empty alley that branched off to only one shop the smell of earth and herbs making its way to where you were. Weird I don’t see a group of 5 waiting for me? Can’t expect them to hold a sign to pinpoint where they though...

“If this is a scam and someone is playing with me, I’m punching someone” Mumbled under your breath scanning the crowd, is it me or wasn’t there light behind me? I look off my phone in front of me what used to be the sun was blocked off by a wall...? “What the…he-Ack“ You were pulled into the same empty alley you passed with a yelp two hands tugging you in by the shoulders. A slender finger twirls you into a dip the two hands prior long gone you were going to fall but it was misdirected to…. this?!

You open your eyes to a jaw dropping sight a clear face looking down at you with no expression before pulling you back up your feet with a smirk. Like he was playing with you, amusement to your reactions shown on his face. Grabbing your bearings against the stone wall beside you the wall that was blocking the sun was actually....5 HOT MEN?!

Maybe you weren’t being lied to and craigslist decided to bless you with something not weird and dangerous! Your awestruck staring was cut off by what looked to be the leader stepping forward. “Your _____ right? Accepted my proposal as manager?” His voice was smooth and fluid like liquid like he was nudging you into the direction he wanted.

“Ah yes that’s me! Are you…” You look back to your phone to read out his email receipt. “xxDemon boy xx?...” Voice unsure to even be saying that aloud. He coughs into his fist slightly embarrassed as the rest of his group look at him in pure bewilderment or is it something else? The baby faced one of the group was just dead-on staring at him.

“yes… That’s me. But forget that my names Jinu” He cuts into the silence before addressing the boys behind him like they rehearsed this. “Abbey” At his name the man with short pink hair and very much not fitting shirt stepped forward striking a pose…How is he that big did he eat the other idols in training?  His shirt looked like it was about to break at the seams if he strikes another pose. Your eyes make their way down his form honing in on the 8 pack he’s showing off with zero shame.

Someone else stepped in front of him big heart shaped pink hair striking a pose before blowing a kiss in your direction. “Romance” Jinus voice behind you placing a hand on your shoulder momentarily distracting you as a blue hair enters your vision staring you down with a cool nonchalant look. “Baby” Ok little on the nose with these names…he just gives you a nod eyes set on a bored expression brushing his blue hair out of his eyes. “and that’s mystery” Jinu turns your attention to the last one in the group grey hair in his face covering his eyes but it felt like he was staring into your soul…

Was he growling or is that you thinking crazy with these majestic men around you? Jinu spins you around to face him as abbey holds mystery back from baring his teeth. “We are the Saja boys” This boy strikes his own pose before straightening up smoothing his shirt over. “And you will be our manager, yes?”

You can’t help but blink at them before going into professional mode, turning a complete 360, you can see the potential now. You are going to skyrocket these men!  “What type of boy band are you? What music are you aiming for? Synthpop, dance rock, artpunk? Y'all do seem the type for bubblegum pop.” You start shooting out different genres of music found in Kop in rapid fire. It surprises them how fast you can switch into the manager persona your destined to be. You start walking around the boys, analyzing them, stopping in front of mystery to stare at the mass of hair where his eyes are supposed to be, before moving on with a hum of approval.

Before Jinu can reply you raise a hand shutting him up already making the loop around the 5 freakishly tall and handsome men.  “I can work with this. Ok, I accept your offer I will be your manager” you say triumphally arms crossing over your chest with a proud grin on your face. This is your big break! Nothing will stop you from getting this boyband into top five! Bob won’t see what’s coming! Mischievous giggling erupts from you as you plot silently in your mind the proud grin turning smug.

“Really? You can’t take it back now you know” Jinu voices from beyond your plotting pulling up a paper from somewhere behind his back for you to sign you don’t think too much of it. Not batting an eye at the way it shimmered or seem to come from nowhere too lost in the fantasy of recognition from the agency that failed, you sign it on the dotted line.

“We want to debut tomorrow” Ok, that snaps you out of your daydreams the contract long gone.

“Tomorrow?!” You cough out face molding into to shock the boys could only smile at your thoughtlessness. You ran in headfirst at the first opportunity given to you common for humans, and they know that.

“Yea tomorrow or can our wonderful manager not do it?” Abby butts in, smugness lacing his words as he stepped forward pulling the arms crossed behind his head move. Was he trying to intimidate you with his muscles?

“Can’t be too hard for you right? Oh, amazing manager” This time it was baby that stole your attention eyes lidded with that same grin everyone was sporting, eyes no longer bored but focused directly on you. He leaned on mystery who continued to stare into your existence with a blank face that slowly turned into that same fucking smile!

You’re probably going to regret this in the long haul. Who fucking cares you’re going to live your dream! You’re going to make them the next face of Korea. No, the entire world!

You look at your phone to check the time before nodding and thinking, “I can work with 24 hours, give or take.” Yeah, nothing is going to stop this manager in the making!

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

Extra: :9

[hyacinth-in-a-haze]

Morning routine- Yandere kidnapper! x fem reader!

This is incredibly Yan nanami coded, and I refuse to apologise

@snail-day you understand the vision

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There is starting to be a routine to these days now.

He likes to let you sleep in most mornings, preferring to get up himself to do the chores and get breakfast ready for the both of you. Today he has chosen to make you a treat and go for pancakes, allowing them to come to room temperature on the kitchen table while he gets you up.

Your routine begins with the unlocking of your hand cuff while he peppers your face with kisses. Even though by now you've mostly settled into your role as his sweet little lady, he cannot be too secure. (Especially after the incident with you trying to break open the child safety locks in the bathroom cabinet) he always without fail will check for any bruises or sores to kiss better as you lay limply in his arms. You used to be much more of a wriggler he remembers but he supposes you probably still have some of the sedative in your system. No worries, he can simply carry you to the bathroom. Sitting you down onto the little shower stool he installed after your last accident caused you to hobble round the home for a few couple months. He decided the stool was a good precaution to avoid any further accidents between you two.

He unbuttons your sleep shirt easily before turning the water on, making sure it's just perfect before he cleans you off from the night before. Taking extra care when his fingers graze your inner thighs to only wash off the memories of last night with a tenderness he didn't show you then. Tilting your hair back to rinse shampoos and conditioner- a small fortune spent on what goes into your routine. Once you're clean it continues, he wraps you warmly and sits you down to your ten step skincare routine. Always setting a two minute timer exactly for him to brush your teeth. You're still so lethargic for this, opening your mouth without resistance. Before you'd end up spitting out blood by the end of it, but now he can be much more gentle.

Again he carries you to the bedroom, drying your hair before he picks out a new outfit for the day. Your wardrobe consists mainly of sundresses, not because he prefers how you look in them. But because they are just far more accessible for the both of you, easier to slip on and off. He helps you up again, you can walk now but he just wants to be safe when it comes to you, taking your arm to carefully lead you to the table.

By now your pancakes and hot chocolate are lukewarm as he cuts them into bite sized pieces. Gently feeding you as he calls out sweet little praises, dabbing at the syrup that falls down your chin with a delicate sigh. Your eyes don't react much to this anymore, each swallow is wary as if you wonder which bite will contain the sedative that keeps you frozen on the sofa while he is at work. But if you refuse to eat he is not above forcing nutrition into you by any means necessary. For all the gentleness that he performs now, it has cost you every sharp tooth and nail you fought with.

Once the plate is clear he gives you the little cup of your vitamins and pills. He tries to make sure your diet is well rounded but unfortunately it is hard to keep your vitamin d levels up from within the flat. Perhaps one day the two of you will have a garden with a tall fence around. Then maybe you could go outside for a bit each day, maybe without supervision. But for now you'll only feel the sun on your face through an open window. The pills have changed since you first were brought to your new home, originally it was only sedatives and birth control. One to keep you complacent and the other because a baby right then would have not helped you to settle down. Now the sedition is at a much lower dose, carefully weaning you from it to avoid any long term effects, and the birth control has swapped places with the prenatal vitamins, just in case any happy accidents occur. On some days they change, after your last accident he withheld any pain relief for a week to make sure you learned the lesson properly. He wouldn't want to have to teach you again.

He takes the cup up to your lips waiting for you to swallow them, you open your mouth when finished to prove no pill was stashed away. Your obedience is rewarded again with another flurry of kisses, trailing down your neck to the collarbone. He only stops once his alarm goes off, reminding him to leave for work in ten minutes, grumbling as he fixes his tie and loads the dishwasher.

He takes you to the living room finally, placing you down on your side of the sofa, a blanket draped over your shoulders and a second left over your legs. He reminds you that there is a snack plate and a lunch box ready for you in the fridge for when you get peckish. There are different hobbies to occupy you within arms reach, all of them domestic and soft just as he wants you to be. Embroidery, knitting, reading. The remote is available but he has most things on child lock so there isn't a point. He places a sippy cup of water down on the table as though that's nothing out of the ordinary before he crouches in front of you expectantly.

You lean forward and graze your chapped lips against his forehead. He brightens up and returns the kiss to you with all the passion you lacked.

“Goodbye my heart, I'll call you once I'm on break.”

He reluctantly makes his way to leave, making sure to not slam the door on his exit. Leaving you to collapse into the nest of pillows and wait.

He didn't even leave your cane to help you get around.

[boopjuice]

@bluerosefox so... it's been six months... sorry about that. But on the bright side, I have one part after this and an epilogue planned out now! Hope you enjoy.

Everything went a little too well. True to his predictions Danny didn't sleep a wink, which meant that he was able to get some pancake mix prepped and get out the door before his parents came up from the lab. Dan and Ellie were just waking up when he got to Sam's, coming downstairs right as Danny was phasing through the door.

"Morning, Dad," Dan mumbled, still rubbing sleep from his eyes.

"Morning, Stardust. You sleep okay?" Dan made a grumble of affirmation, walking over and burying his face into Danny's leg. Danny gently ruffled his son's hair while Ellie made her way over to the breakfast counter, climbing into her seat and splaying her top half over the counter in an attempt to get a little more sleep. It was amazing to think that, between his two children, both had at one point not only tried to kill him but that his future self, who had well and truly hated him, was the one who clung to him more.

He chuckled, picking up his son who proceeded to bury his face into Danny's neck, and walking into the kitchen. He used one hand to grab a pan and some cooking spray before setting his son down in his own seat. The six year old whined at the loss of contact, and Danny chuckled.

"I know, Dan, but I need both hands to make pancakes."

"Y're makin' pancakes?" Ellie slurred, lifting her head from the cool counter. Her hair was sticking up every which way, probably from the way she tossed and turned last night.

"Yep. But you two need to be dressed and ready for school if you want to have some." His kids, still half asleep, groaned at that, but dutifully hopped off the chairs to drag themselves upstairs and get dressed for the day. "Remember to wake up Mar'i," he called gently after them.

The pancakes went well. He didn't even burn the first one, which should have tipped him off. The kids came down, Mar'i in tow and dressed in some of Dan's clothes, and they all appeared much more awake than when the first two had come down. Sam followed down soon after, wrapping Danny in a hug and giving him a good morning kiss that the kids all fake gagged at. Even ghostlings and aliens, it seemed, thought shows of affection between parents were odd.

"Tuck had to go home for the night, but he'll take Dan to school," Sam said, picking up a few pancakes for herself.

"Alright. I'll be dropping off Ellie and Mar'i separately at the daycare. Ellie, think you can keep your invisibility up for a bit when we go?"

"I can!" she said through a mouthful of pancake.

"Don't talk with your mouth full," Sam chided, sitting at the breakfast counter next to Mar'i, who was the picture of well behaved. The kind of well behaved that meant she was planning mischief.

"Mar'i, I'm going to be dropping you off at the daycare with Ellie."

"What? But I'm seven! I don't need to go to daycare!"

"I know, Riri. But my friends and I need to go to school, and we can't bring you with us. We can't take you to school with Dan, because you aren't enrolled. And before you try to say you can stay alone, you are seven. I'm not about to leave a seven year old alone no matter how capable they might be. So, unfortunately, you'll be at the daycare."

Mar'i huffed a bit, crossing her arms and pouting. "Hey, that means we can play together! Together, we can lead the daycare to rebellion! Freedom for Kids!!!" Ellie said, promptly floating up and brandishing her fork in the air.

"Ellie, if you start another revolution at the daycare, you'll be staying with Grandpa Clockwork while we're gone," Sam said.

"What?! But he's sooooo booooooring!"

"Then no revolutions," Danny said, turning to level his best "parenting look" at his youngest. "And no ghost powers while you're eating."

Dan snickered as Ellie floated back to her seat, sticking his tongue out to tease her. Mar'i, thankfully, was a little less pouty than before.

The flight to the daycare was uneventful. Ellie stayed invisible the whole time while Danny told Mar'i that she couldn't use any powers she had at the daycare. She likely already knew, but it was good to remind her.

The attendant was a little skeptical about taking on a seven year old for the day, even with the favor she owed Phantom, but with the explanation that it was for one day and a little extra cash she let Riri stay. He told her that Riri would be getting picked up with Ellie, then went around the block, shifted back to his human form with Ellie, and walked them both to the door to drop her off too.

He got to school the same time as Sam and Tuck did, greeting them both with a hug and a quick kiss before they headed off to class. He texted Tuck the plan for the day, slipping his phone into his pocket right as the bell rang for first period.

As the day went on, things kept going well. He didn't cross paths with Dash. Lancer didn't have a pop quiz. There was even pizza for lunch.

All of those things should have tipped Danny off that something was going to go wrong.

When the last bell rang, he walked out of school with his partners. They chatted along the way, trying to get his story straight about which clubs he was in, since someone had told his maybe-bio-dad that he was in several. By the time they got to the elementary school to pick up Dan they'd agreed on Danny being in the Robotics and Astronomy clubs, since Danny had at least some idea of what each of them did.

The walk to the daycare was filled with chatter from Dan as he talked about what he'd done that day, the things he'd learned and what activities were most important to him. Apparently they were going to start music lessons soon, and he'd get to bring home a recorder to practice. In his excitement, he didn't notice how his parents all looked at each other in resignation for the terrible screeching that would be Dan practicing for the next few months.

Picking up Ellie and Mar'i went smoothly as well. Fortunately, Ellie had not tried to start a revolution. Unfortunately, Mar'i had somehow found her way into the air ducts and had spent an hour playing a one-sided game of hide and seek with the attendants.

The six of them walked towards the bus stop, Danny checking his phone to see a text from Dick. He was almost to town, and would probably get to the meeting spot before him. It would be another five minutes before the bus got there, so Danny texted back to let him know.

"Hey, good luck with your-" Tuck glanced at Mar'i, happily chatting with Dan and comparing notes about their days as Ellie chimed in with important details. "With your dad."

"Thanks. I'll be home as soon as I can."

"We know, Spooky. We'll all be waiting to hear how it went." Sam wrapped him in a tight hug, Tucker joining not long after, and Danny squeezed them back. He didn't know what he'd done to get lucky enough to have these two in his life and afterlife, but he wasn't about to question it now.

"Right. Kids, say by to Riri," Tuck said once they all pulled away.

"Aw, can't she stay a little longer?" Ellie begged, giving her best puppy eyes.

"Pleeeeeeaaaaase?" Dan joined in with the puppy eyes.

"I know you guys had fun, but Mar'i needs to go back to her parents," Danny chided. "But I can talk to them and see if there's a way that you three can get together and play again. Sound good?"

"Fine," Dan huffed, before enveloping Mar'i in a hug. "Bye Riri."

"Yeah, bye. Don't let ghosts get you." Ellie said, also joining the hug.

"I won't. And if they try, my Mommy and Daddy will be there to keep me safe!" They all pulled away. "I'll see you later!" Mar'i said, taking Danny's hand as Sam and Tuck picked up a child each and started walking to Sam's house.

"Alright, Riri. Ready to see your parents?" Danny asked.

"Mhm!" She nodded with her whole body, and Danny couldn't help but smile.

~~~

Dick was bouncing his knee as he waited in the Waffle House next to Kori. He needed to make sure his little girl was alright. He needed to ask Danny how sure he was about the whole "being Dick's kid" thing. He needed to check on his maybe-son's partners and kids and wasn't that a thing to think about? That he might have grandkids? That would make Bruce a great grandfather, and Alfred a great great grandfather. If he hadn't been so stressed about this meeting going well, he would have laughed.

Kori's hand rested on his shoulder. "Richard, you will break the chair at this rate. It will be fine."

"But what if it isn't? What if he isn't my son? Kori, what if he is? What do i do?"

"I do not know. But panicking will not make this easier, you know this." He sighed, reaching up to grab his wife's hand.

"Yeah. Yeah I do."

The next twenty minutes of waiting was agonizing. He did everything he could to relax, but he still felt anxiety eating away at him. The chatter on the TV in the corner didn't help. What was he supposed to say? He knew he needed a DNA test, but did he just come out and say that? What if the partners were there, what then? What did he say to them? What if Danny brought his kids?

All his worried thoughts were cut off when the door jingled and a familiar shout of "Mommy! Daddy!" rang through the dining area. He was on his feet in a moment, falling to his knees to cradle his daughter in a tight hug.

"Thank god you're safe," he whispered into her hair as Kori collapsed next to him, cradling them both in arms he knew were carefully gentle to not hurt them. Dick pulled back from his daughter slightly, checking her without letting her go.

"Are you alright? Are you hurt?" He didn't really expect an answer, and his mind went blank for a moment when he saw the bandages on her wrists and ankles.

"I'm fine. Mr. Danny and his friends were really nice, but i did have to go to daycare." She huffed out the last word like it was some prison chamber instead of... well, a daycare.

"And I'd have you go again, Riri. I wasn't about to leave you alone." Dick finally took his eyes off his daughter, looking towards the voice he'd only heard over the phone before.

Danny was the spitting image of him when he'd been in the Titans. Same lean build, same black hair, same eyes. There were a few bits that didn't quite look right. Danny was a bit paler than he'd ever been, enough that people would have likely just dismissed it as a tan in a place like Illinois. His cheekbones were a little off, and his chin was a tad more pointed than his own. But Dick could have slapped a domino and some multicolor spandex on the kid and mistaken him as a younger version of himself.

"You must be Danny," he said when he found his voice."

"Yep. That's me. You must be-" the kid snorted a little. "You must be Dick." Dick smiled a little at that, standing and holding out a hand.

"That's me. Thank you for taking care of my daughter." Danny took his hand, keeping the shake short. It didn't keep Dick from noticing that the kid's hands were cold. They would have been clammy, if there'd been any perspiration.

"It's nothing, really. Ancients know I wasn't about to just not help." Danny's eyes drifted to where Kori was still fussing over her daughter, asking about the bandages. His eyes widened, and his jaw dropped. "Oh..."

"Apologies, I'm a little frazzled. This is my wife, Kori." She looked up at her name, standing and holding her own hand out to Danny as Mar'i grabbed her other.

"Hello. Thank you for keeping our daughter safe. I do not know what we would do if she were hurt."

"Think nothing of it," Danny said, looking at Kori in awe. "Uh... Mar'i said you were a Tamaranian?"

"Yes. I am. Is there an issue?" Kori had noticed the way the kid was staring, and was doing her best to remain polite.

"What's space like?" And just like that, Danny started spitting questions non-stop. "What's Tamaran like? I found a few articles, but I imagine they only cover the broad strokes of culture. Oh! When was your people's first interstellar mission? When did you discover there was other life in the universe? What galaxy is Tamaran in? What planets can you see from it? Wait, no, which stars? Do you-"

Danny seemed to catch the overwhelmed look on his wife's face and snapped back to himself. "Oh, um... That was probably a lot. Sorry. Space is just... I guess you could call it an Obsession of mine," he said sheepishly. "I didn't mean to word-vomit like that."

"It is quite alright," Kori said, smile returning. "I did not expect those kinds of questions. I must admit, I am uncertain how long ago we reached space, but it was quite a long time ago."

Danny nodded, the stars not quite gone from his eyes, and the room warmed back up. When had the temperature dropped?

"Anyway, Mar'i, would you like to go and get some ice cream?" Kori said, looking to the young girl.

"Yes please!" Riri turned her green eyes on Danny, and Dick waited to see how he reacted. While most people were generally very accepting of his daughter, it was still common for people to squirm a little under her full gaze and inhuman eyes. Danny did no such thing, just smiled back, eyes almost reflecting hers for the briefest of moments. "Bye Mr. Danny."

"Bye, Riri. Stay safe."

"I will! Come on, Mommy, let's go!" Mar'i tugged her mother towards the door, and Kori said a quick goodbye before letting herself be dragged away. Dick had already given her the replacement tracking bracelet for Riri, since her last one had malfunctioned. He turned to Danny, the both of them still standing awkwardly in the middle of a Waffle House.

"You said you wanted to talk," Dick started. Danny nodded, looking as tense as Dick felt.

"Yeah." They both sat at the table he and Kori had occupied. Dick had to right his chair, he'd accidentally tipped it over in his haste earlier. With the both of them seated, Dick started questioning.

"First off, how did you end up finding Mar'i? She was... being held hostage, and then she just fell into a green portal. Was that you?" Danny looked at the table, chewing the inside of his cheek like Dick used to do.

"... yeah. I... I'm a meta." Years of experience had taught him when someone was lying. This kid was. "It's sort of an empath ability? With a little bit of other stuff mixed in. I don't really understand all of it." All a lie.

"What I know is... It felt like my sister- My other sister, the one I grew up with- it felt like she was in danger, but also not? So I just... I made sure whoever it was was safe. It just ended up being Mar'i." Danny locked eyes with Dick then. Nothing about that last bit was a lie. "I know it probably scared you really, really bad. Ancients only know what I would do if Dan or Ellie went missing like that."

"Your kids?" Danny nodded. "Your son's name is Dan?" A fond smile overtook Danny's face.

"Short for Dante, but yeah. It's... a bit of a story."

"How old are they, if I may?"

"Dan's six, and Ellie's four." Danny was 17. That meant he'd had Dan when he was 11. 13 when he had Ellie. Dick felt a pit start to open in his gut.

"And they're yours?" Another nod.

"Yep. I know I'm young, but I've got Sam and Tuck with me. We've been making it work."

"You mentioned they weren't Miss Manson's. Who's are they, if I may ask?" Danny froze, then chuckled and looked away. He rubbed the back of his neck, slouching into the chair.

"That's another long story. But I don't know if I'd really change it." The pit that had started to open in his gut widened to a gaping chasm. Had someone-

"Anyway, you're a detective. What's that like?" Danny said, and Dick filed away the subject for later.

"It is what it is. I'm not in a great spot, lots of the people I go to work with are bought out by some crime lord or another. I try to do what I can from the inside, but there's only so much one person can do. It's why I work with Nightwing on a lot of cases."

"He's the vigilante in Bludhaven, right?"

"Mhm. Used to be a Robin before going there. He's a lot of help with the local crime." It was exceedingly strange to talk about his vigilante life like this with someone who didn't have more than passing knowledge of him. "But what about you? I hear there's a vigilante in your town too."

"Yeah, we've got one. Phantom. He's a ghost, so opinion on him is pretty mixed." And there was something he'd been meaning to ask about.

"Hang on, ghost? You mean those touristy sites talking about "The Most Haunted City in America" weren't bullshitting?"

"Nope," Danny said, shaking his head with a tired smile. "Ghosts are very real, and we have the property damage bills and insurance plans to prove it."

"Is that why opinion on Phantom's mixed?"

"Yeah. There's a pretty big camp that isn't happy with the damage his fights cause, or just straight up think ghosts aren't sentient. But there's also a lot of people that he's saved, or that just think he's cool."

"What about you?" Dick asked.

"I mean..." Danny was very hesitant, looking at his hands as he spoke. "I... Ghosts are sentient, to get that out of the way. And yeah, he's caused a lot of damage over the years, but the ghost hunters would have caused a lot more. He's saved ghost hunters from ghosts before, and he pretty regularly has to save ghosts and regular people from ghost hunters so... I think he's just trying his best to protect everyone. Plus... i mean, it's kinda my fault he's here in the first place."

"What do you mean?"

"Well... my parents have a... a lab? In the basement. They're ectobiologists, and they spent most of their lives trying to build a portal to what they call the Ghost Zone. And they did, but it didn't really work at first. So I took a look at it, and... well, there was an accident. The portal turned on with me inside, and it's how I got my meta powers. But it also let Phantom and all the other ghosts through. So it feels kinda wrong to hate the guy when I'm the reason he's here in the first place."

Dick had a hard time parsing out that last part. On the one hand, there was a lot of truth to what Danny was saying. But he was still lying. There was something he was hiding.

"But to actually answer your question, I'm sort of on the fence about him." Danny was pretty clearly uncomfortable, and the Bat in Dick wanted to press for more information, find out all the pieces. The part of Dick that knew this could be his kid decided that a subject change was much needed.

"That's fair. Your boyfriend mentioned you were in a couple clubs. What are they?"

~~~

Danny and Dick chatted for another hour before Dick brought up DNA testing. It was a bit of an awkward moment, but it needed to be done.

"It's just a precaution. It wouldn't be the first time someone did something like this for less than genuine reasons."

"No I totally get it. it was the first thing I did when I found Ellie."

"I thought you said she was yours? Did you not know the mother?"

"Ah-" and Danny was shrinking in on himself again. "Well... she doesn't exactly have a mother? Dan either. Like I said, it's a long story involving my fruitloop of a godfather and-" Danny took a deep breath, and Dick did the same, trying to make the blood rushing in his ears quiet.

"Danny... what happened?" Danny took another breath.

"Ellie and Dan are both clones. There's... I know you're worried, but I'd rather not talk about it." Dick was certain Danny could hear the way his heart was thundering, demanding retribution for something the kid so clearly had found violating. Hell, the guy at the register twenty feet away could probably hear it.

"Of course. I'm sorry to have pried." Danny nodded.

"Anyway, yeah. I get the need for a DNA test. No worries."

"Okay. And... if it comes back positive, what would-"

"Breaking News! There's a ghost attack on 50th Street and Olsen Boo-levard. It appears Plasmius is set on destroying an ice cream parlor. Please, steer clear of the area. I repeat, steer clear of the area. Ghost hunters are on the way, so civilians are encouraged to stay off the streets. We will update as-"

"I have to go," Danny said, standing abruptly. "Do you have a way to call your wife? Make sure she's okay?"

Dick was already pulling out his phone, rushing outside. Kori had a panic button, as did Mar'i. Both were inactive as he looked, and he wanted to sigh in relief. Then both went active, almost in unison, at the intersection of 50th and Olsen.

"Danny, wait!" Dick said, striding to catch up with the boy. "Please, please tell me you drove here."

"No? I took the bus, and then we walked." Dick cursed.

"Okay. Okay, this is fine."

"What? What's wrong?"

"Kori and Mar'i are there," Dick said, heart squeezing. Danny went pale as... well, pale as a ghost. it almost looked like he wasn't breathing.

"Don't arrest me." Danny walked out the door, Dick following close behind. He watched Danny break the window of a nearby car, slipping in and hotwiring it in seconds.

"Do you know how to drive?" he asked, face an echo of what Dick's used to be when he was Robin.

"Yeah, I know-"

"Good, because I drive like my dad, and he believes in road safety as much as he does lab safety. get in, I'll nav." Dick didn't need to be told twice, though he did want to ask what exactly Danny meant by that.

Dick peeled the car out of the parking lot like a Bat out of Hell. Which, he reflected, might have been something that actually happened and no one mentioned to him.

Danny guided them through the city, having them stop in sight of the destruction. Kori was fighting off several green glowing vultures, the blasts she fired from her hands barely singeing the things. There was distant cackling, and Kori tried to dart further in, away from where Dick and Danny were exiting the car. The vultures knocked her off course, harrying her and preventing her from getting to where she was going.

Dick checked the locations of the panic buttons. Kori was right in front of him, but Mar'i...

"She's still in there," he breathed out. Danny turned to him.

"What?"

"Mar'i's still in there. I-"

"I'm going to find her." The kid wasted no time, running towards the conflict.

"Danny, wait!" Kori was a member of the Justice League, and she couldn't do anything to the creatures that were clearly just stalling her. Danny was a civilian, he was going to get hurt.

But he ran on, dodging the lone vulture that dove at him with what looked like practiced ease, continuing his sprint until he was out of sight. Dick cursed, following what might have been his son.

He saw Danny duck into an alley, just before a bright flash of light poured into the street. He turned the corner and...

There was Danny. But he was... wrong. Black hair had turned white. Casual clothes had been swapped for a black hazmat suit with white gloves and boots. He couldn't see the boy's face, his back turned, but he watched the boy take off out of the alley, phasing through buildings as he gained height and flew towards what was likely the epicenter of the destruction.

Dick shoved his confusion and dawning realization down, continuing in the direction Danny, no, Phantom had flown.

~~~

Danny should have known better. Today was going too well, so of course, of course, everything had to go wrong. He flew towards where his core tugged, where Mar'i was.

He found her, cowering against a destroyed wall as Vlad towered over her. "You know, I didn't think my little badger could have a heart for anything not his own flesh and blood. Perhaps, however, he could be persuaded to change his mind with a little... incentive."

He leaned closer, and Danny felt a flash of pride as Mar'i fired a small green bolt at his mortal enemy. Vlad, for his part, did nothing more than hiss. "You little brat!" He snatched Mar'i by one wrist before Danny could intervene, flying up, no doubt to try and find him.

"Ah, Daniel. What a lovely surprise." Vlad said, dangling Mar'i by a still injured wrist. "I was wondering when you'd show up. I must admit, I have a few questions for you."

"Sure, Vladdy," Danny said, savoring how the man snarled a little at the nickname Danny's dad had given him long ago. "Just set her down first and then we can talk all you want."

"Somehow, I doubt your sincerity," Vlad said, squeezing Mar'i's wrist until she whimpered. Danny's core ached at the sound, but he stayed where he was.

"What do you want?" he ground out.

"The answer to a simple question."

"And that is?"

"Why her?" Vlad spit, shaking Mar'i a little. "Why spend your time caring for some random girl you've never met? What is so special about her that you would let someone who shares no similarities to you whatsoever into your core, but you won't even consider letting me, your same species, mentor you?"

"Maybe because she isn't trying to kill my dad and fu- marry my mom, fruitloop!"

"I simply don't understand it, Daniel." Vlad said, the hand not holding Mar'i lighting up in fire. "But, that does not mean I am foolish enough not to take advantage of a situation such as this.

"You may either come with me, bring my children with you, and accept me as your mentor and rightful father, or-" he held the flame up by Mar'i face, her green eyes reflecting the pink flames. "She dies."

Danny froze. Everything around him froze too. The air dropped until frost formed on the rooftops above him, cement creaking at the sudden and drastic change. Mar'i's breaths came out in clouds of white as her breath condensed in the chill and she started to shiver.

"Honestly, little badger, enough of the temper tantru-"

Danny crashed into Vlad, pulling his flaming hand from Mar'i fast enough he thought he heard something in Vlad's arm pop. He let his legs dissolve into a shadowy tail that curled around her waist as his other hand began to squeeze down on the wrist Vlad was using to hold Mar'i.

"Get your filthy hands off my sister." There was a snap and Vlad cried out in pain. Danny knew from experience that the break would heal in moments, thanks to the ectoplasm, but it was enough time to grab Mar'i and bolt.

He searched for Dick with his core, startling when he found the man nearly directly beneath Vlad. She whipped down, depositing Mar'i in his arms with a quick "Get her to safety," before taking back off, intercepting Vlad halfway.

It had been a long time since Danny had felt the need to truly go all out against Vlad. The last time he had, it had been all he could do to keep the upper hand in the fight. This time, it was clear just how outmatched Vlad had become.

Danny did what he could to keep the fight in the air, but collateral damage was inevitable when Vlad used every chance he got to try and take pot-shots at Dick and Mar'i. It was his only bet if he wanted to get Danny to do what he wanted, since overpowering him was so clearly out of the question.

He even called his vultures in to try and help, though Danny made short work of them, souping them quickly and going back to Vlad before he had been able to get out of Danny's range.

When Danny could finally think straight again, he was standing over an unconscious Plasmius, thermos gripped tightly in his hand. He let out a breath, pointing the thermos at Vlad and letting the device pull him in. With the threat gone, he phased the thermos into his chest.

That had been... intense. He couldn't remember the last time he'd felt so furious without wearing the Ring of Rage. Then again, he was a protector spirit, and Vlad had been directly threatening his sister. It only made sense he'd-

Something hit him, burning into his back, and he cried out in pain, collapsing where Vlad had just been a moment prior. "Yes! Finally, we've got you, Spook!" Danny heard the voice of his Dad, turning to see both his parents, fully suited up, standing over him. Before he had the presence of mind to try and move, His mother held out another thermos with a sickeningly sweet smile and sucked him inside of it.

~~~

There were a lot of things going through Dick's mind as the fight wound down. First, the kid who may or may not have been his son was a vigilante. Which brought up all kinds of questions about whether or not the kid was alive or not, since the town vigilante was commonly considered a ghost.

Second, the person- ghost? Whatever. The entity that had cloned his maybe-son without his consent was not only the kid's godfather, but also likely did so in an attempt to convince Danny to be his son. Which was creepy, even by bat standards. Like, Ra's al Ghul trying to convince Tim to become his protégé, creepy.

Third, Danny's parents didn't know. At the very least, they didn't know about their son being maybe a ghost, since they'd pretty blatantly shot him in the back right after he'd captured the actual threat.

Which Dick had seen because he was coming back after leaving Mar'i with Kori to see if he could try and help, or maybe get some clarification from Danny about what the hell had just happened. He'd seen the confusion on the boy's face, followed by terror, and then he'd been sucked into some weird looking thermos thing.

"We did it, Maddikins!" Mr. Fenton said, whirling to look at his wife as she removed the hood and goggles of her hazmat suit.

"That we did, Jack! Oh, I can't wait to see what's inside of it! Just think of all the tissue samples we'll be able to collect! We can finally see what really makes a ghost tick!" The two turned back towards the amalgamation of parts and tech that could only loosely be called a car.

"I know! I'm just so excited! Last time the blasted thing got away, but not this time! We've beefed up our security, so there's no way it'll be able to get out! Oh! We'll need to remember the muzzle, so there's absolutely no risk of it manipulating us to let it go."

"Of course, dear. I've had it ready and waiting on the table since the last time it escaped."

Dick was almost glad the two piled into the car when they did. The doors slammed shut, cutting off his ability to hear their conversation and what a relief that was. Danny had mentioned some people thought ghosts weren't sentient. He had failed to mention that those people included his parents.

Dick pulled out his phone, calling a private number that only the rest of the family had. When the line clicked on, he didn't wait for the voice on the other side to speak.

"Tim, I need you to find out everything about the Drs. Fenton," he growled into the receiver, striding towards where he'd left Mar'i and Kori. "I'm opening a case."

He hung up without letting his brother speak a word. Right now, he needed answers and a safe place for his daughter. Lucky for him, the Manson household had both.

Hmmm

I'm on a Danny is Dick's child kick rn so I'm making more.

But lets add in some Ghost King Danny!, Dad to a deaged Ellie and Dan! And toddler Mar'i Grayson.

Danny was conceived during Dick's amnesia year when he was Ric and the woman couldn't find him to tell him (or maybe the Owls caught wind of the pregnancy and took her) and he ended up somehow (hmmm maybe a meddling time keeper?) with the Fentons.

Danny grows as a Fenton, he knows he was adopted btw, then becomes Phantom, protects Amity, becomes the Ghost King and things seem to be going okay between Amity Parkers and the Infinite Realms since they took care of the GIW problem, AND has been a good doting teen dad to his deaged 'cousins/clones' turned kids.

Danny was going to go pick his kids up from daycare one day when CHAOS happens. Just as he wrangles Ellie onto his shoulders, cause she wants to be tall today, and about to take Dan's hand cause he's and I quote "A big boy and not a baby like Ellie, Dad!" he suddenly feels the tug of his family being in danger.

Thing is, its a blood related danger. Meaning someone blood related to him was in grave danger, and by the emotions he can feel, its someone young, way younger than him.

Problem.

The only people Danny knows with his blood in their veins and are young enough for the feeling are with him.

So who?

But due to Danny being a protector spirit AND knowing the feeling is from someone as young as his own kids, Danny decides to use his Ghost King Powers to summon said person from the danger to him.

Danny opens his free arms out just as a tiny toddler with black hair like his own but with bright green eyes, even the sclera were green, in a ruined party dress drops from the sky from the summoning circle that had opened above him.

Danny stares at the terrified child, whose hands are tied by rope and was crying, and takes notes of certain traits she had that he saw every time in the mirror or on his own kids, same eye shape and cheekbones. He can tell his ghost core has claimed her as family but not as his kid though.

No the connection that formed was almost like his connection with Jazz but a bit stronger.

This kid, was his sister. His blood related one.

-Meanwhile-

Dick Grayson, aka Nightwing, and his family were freaking the fuck out.

Dick was already panicked when his daughter Mar'i had gotten kidnapped just a few hours ago by the Joker.

Now he was feeling pure dread when his daughter, who was about to be killed, was suddenly pulled into a strange glowing circle at the last minute and disappeared into thin air.

[kawaiigirly21]

Our Little Soda Pop: Chapter 2

“Baby please move your head. It's right under my tit.” Natasha mumbled with a groggy voice. It had been a week since she started managing the boy band and letting them invade her privacy every night. They had their own rooms in the penthouse but at that point, they only used them to keep their belongings. The boys had taken a shine to sleeping in Natasha's bed every night and made no effort to stop their behavior. To be fair, Natasha did try to ban them from her room multiple times.

But there was only so much an older demon woman could do against 5 younger demon men who claimed they were obsessed with her scent. “Mm no… comfy.” Baby mumbled back in an incredibly deep morning voice. “Well you gotta move anyway. I need to get up so I can make breakfast. You got a recording session today.” Groaning, Baby instead moved closer into Natasha's side while Mystery tightened his grip on her waist.

“Come on boys. You gotta let me go.” After some heavy convincing, Natasha managed to slip away from the bed that was crowded with all five Saja boys and went to brush her teeth. As she did, she sighed as Abby came up behind her and wrapped his strong arms around her waist. “Come back to bed~ Miss you.” Using one hand, Natasha shoved the man back gently. “Go back to bed young one. I have things to do.” She smiled softly before leaving the bathroom and going to the kitchen. As she started cooking, Natasha began to hum an old song of hers very quietly.

She remembered her years in the spotlight fondly but she had no desire to return to those times. The money was good and she adored her fans. She reveled in her fame and fortune but she hated the paparazzi. The constant invasion of privacy and the fabricated lies they would spin like nosy little spiders angered her. She liked her years in the spotlight, yes but not enough to return. “Smells good. That for us?” Romance smiled as he and Jinu walked into the kitchen slowly.

Sleep still clinging to their bodies. “Yes it is. Good morning. Jinu? Can you go wake up the others? Romance, set the table please?” Natasha asked sweetly. As Jinu left to wake the others, Romance took the opportunity to walk up behind Natasha and grab a handful of her ass. “What the!? Romance!!” Angry and flustered by the action, Natasha turned to scold the man only for his lips to catch her own in a deep kiss while his hands rested on her hips.

His fingers slowly sliding into her fluffy pajama pants. He then pulled away, slowly licking his lips before leaning down to whisper in her ear. “I'm hungry, but not for food. Won't you feed me properly lovely lady?~” He asked, almost whining before trying to slide one of his hands into Natasha's underwear. “No. I can't.” Natasha responded firmly by grabbing Romance's hand and moving from her body and pushing past him.

“I'm not going to sleep with you. Now please set the table.” She then replied trying to keep her cool as if she was not at all turned on by the man behind her. Instead of being upset with the rejection, Romance smirked. He knew he got to her. He could smell the arousal from her. He just wished Natasha wasn't so uptight and let herself enjoy the benefits that came with the fact 5 sexy young demon men took interest in her. “Why does it smell like pussy juice out here?” A loud voice interrupted the once peace and quiet Natasha was trying to enjoy.

“Watch your fucking mouth Abby.” Another voice added. “You watch your fucking mouth Baby.” “How about you both watch your fucking mouths?” Jinu groaned as Mystery made a beeline towards Natasha and wrapped his arms around her in a warm hug. “They're so loud…” He whispered into her neck. “Good morning to you too Mystery. Go sit down hun. Breakfast is about to be served.”

Moving from his embrace, Natasha watched as Mystery took his seat next to Baby who was eyeing the extra spicy hot sauce that was placed on the table specifically for him. After breakfast, the boys scattered to their rooms to get ready, save for Romance who decided to stay behind to help with the dishes. After drying the last one, he watched as Natasha retreated to her own room to get ready for the day.

Sneaking into her room and listening to the sound of the shower turning on, Romance smirked and undressed himself before teleporting behind a naked Natasha who, due to the sound of the shower, hadn't heard him appear behind her. Her eyes nearly bugged out of her head the moment she felt hands on her hips. “Oh my!!-” “Shhh it's just me.~” Romance replied. “How is that supposed to make me feel any better!? Get out!! I told you no!!” Natasha shouted angrily.

“You said no, but your body said yes. Your scent practically screamed it. Why won't you give in to your instincts. Let me be the first to mate you.~” He whispered as he leaned down to kiss her neck. Natasha felt herself shiver despite the hot temperature of the water. “Can't you smell me? I smell you. Your arousal is like a drug I want to keep taking. It's intoxicating. I'm addicted. We all are. Please~” Romance bit his lip while pressing himself up against Natasha's back, making sure she could feel his erection.

“You just don't wanna listen do you?” She growled, causing the man behind her to tilt his head in confusion before he was shoved against the shower wall with Natasha's hand pressed against his chest and the other grasping his cock. “O-oh shit!!” He choked.

“Do you know how hard it is trying to keep my composer around you sluts? Your musk is constantly flooding my senses and it's driving me crazy. But I still have the sense to keep it professional. Something that seems like a foreign concept to you. So let my tell you something, I'll fuck you. Absolutely! But on my terms. My time. And when I feel like you deserve it. Whore. Now, be a good boy, cum on my hand and tell the others. Because I know they're listening at the door. Go on. Sing like the whore you are.~” Natasha smirked all the while she pumped Romance's cock and listened to his choked moans and begging sounds.

Her demon form allowing her to growl in his ear while he cried in pleasure. “Please! Oh fuck! Mistress! I'm yours! I'm your whore! I wanna be your good boy! Fuck! Fuck! Cumming! Cumming!! Mistress!!!” Natasha watched satisfied as thick ropes of semen shot from Romance's cock. “Good boy. Now get out. I need to wash myself.” She whispered as she pressed a long kiss to Romance's lips before shoving him out of her shower.

Outside of the room, the others watched in envy as Romance stumbled out of Natasha’s room with a dazed smile on his face. The only thing now on their minds was which of them was next.

Chapter 3

[arkofangels]

Hang in there, BABY?

Pairing: Hank(s) x reader

Summary: When your friend unexpectedly drops off a baby for the night, you and your five hanger boyfriends—The Hank(s)—are thrown into a whirlwind of diapers, pacifiers, and existential panic. 

A/N: sorry its been take me so long to write, my computer is literally on its last legs and I can't afford to get a new one :(

(its a 8 year old Mac book and i swear i can hear it cough after every update 💔)

You don’t ask questions when your friend drops a baby off at your door.

You try, of course. You get out “Wait, why—” before she slaps a diaper bag into your arms, kisses your cheek, and says something like “It’s just overnight, you’re the only one I trust, I’ll explain everything later, BYE.”

And then she’s gone.

And you’re left holding a real, human baby. And also surrounded by five animate "hangers" in jumpsuits who have very strong and very different feelings about this.

“A baby?” Hank 2 squeaks, already Googling CPR on your cracked phone. Hank 1 crosses his arms. “We can handle a baby. We’ve done trick dives into volcanoes.” “Those were miniature volcanoes made out of papier-mâché and sadness,” mutters Hank 4. “Do we think the baby’s got a favorite already?” teases Hank 3, batting his lashes. He’s immediately silenced by a diaper to the face. “I love this baby,” Hank 5 whispers, gently cradling the child with sock-like reverence. “We should build it a tiny hammock and name it Bean.”

You make a list. You don’t know what babies eat (mashed peas? socks?), but you know what you have:

Five hanger boyfriends

A half-eaten sleeve of saltines

Eight Red Bowls

And now, apparently, a baby.

Operation: Don’t Let the Baby Die begins.

Hour 1: Hank 2 is already spiraling. He’s checking the baby’s pulse every six minutes. “What if we drop it? What if it senses our fear? What if Red Bowl finds out and tries to sponsor it?!”

Hour 2: Hank 1 builds a diaper-changing station out of your bookshelf. It is both sturdy and somehow... emotionally grounding. “Babies need confidence. Eye contact. Structure. And a little jazz.”

Hour 3: Hank 3 plays peekaboo. But it turns into an impromptu stand-up set. “You ever notice how pacifiers are just, like, emotional corks? Amirite?” The baby stares. Then drools. Hank 3 swoons.

Hour 4: Hank 4 is writing a detailed list of potential baby names (even though you told him it already has one). “What about Clasp? Or Hookifer. No? Too thematic?”

Hour 5: Hank 5 and the baby are both asleep in a pile of pillows and blankets on the living room floor, baby toys scattered like confetti around them. You gently drape a blanket over them and whisper, “This is my life now.”

You didn’t expect this. You didn’t expect to be jobless, babysitting someone else’s infant at 3 a.m., surrounded by five sentient hangers in jumpsuits who somehow care more about your well-being than most people ever have.

But when the baby starts to cry at 3 a.m.—a loud, wailing, existential sound that cuts into your sleep like a Red Bowl promo jingle—they all show up.

Hank 2 with a warm bottle. Hank 1 with calming noise (a Spotify playlist labeled “Jazz for Infants and Sad Adults”). Hank 3 with interpretive dance. Hank 4 with one (1) stolen baby sock he insists is sentimental. Hank 5 with a lullaby that is definitely just the Red Bowl theme song hummed gently.

And you.

Tired. Overwhelmed. Absolutely not ready to be responsible for anyone, let alone six people (five of whom used to live in your closet as inanimate hangers—until the glasses happened)

But you hold that baby. And the Hanks hold you. Figuratively. And then, literally.

And in that tangled pile of limbs, soft snoring, and the faint scent of baby powder and Red Bowl plastic, you realize: this is your family.

In the morning, when your friend returns and gasps, “Wait, why are there five hot men in jumpsuits in your living room?”—

You just shrug.

“Long story,” you say. “But we’re good with babies.”

[steddieas-shegoes]

three things

for @switcheddieweek prompt 'spit' (a little) and 'non-verbal negotiation' (mostly this one tbh)

rated e | 5395 words | also on ao3 | cw: under-negotiated kink | tags: switch eddie, switch steve, friends with benefits, bisexual steve, bondage, banter, frottage, spit kink, anal fingering, anal sex, dirty talk, choking, not actually unrequited feelings, open ending but we can play clue together

⭕⭕⭕⭕⭕⭕⭕⭕⭕⭕⭕⭕⭕⭕⭕

Steve’s jittery and it’s making Eddie fucking jumpy. From the second he walked in the door, Steve’s been bustling around, moving things he doesn’t need to, taking sips of Eddie’s drink, knocking into things. Eddie’s ready to tie him to a chair and—

Well, that’s an idea.

Just as he considers acting on it, Steve groans.

“Do you think I’m too high strung?” He asks as he paces the floor anxiously.

“In this moment or in general?” Eddie has to tread carefully here. Whatever’s got Steve on edge like this needs to be taken seriously. One wrong word and Steve will shut down and it’ll be a long fucking night of trying to pull him back in.

“Like, always? Or most of the time.” Steve stops pacing, sets his gaze on Eddie where he’s sitting comfortably at the kitchen table. “Do you think I think too much about little things?”

Eddie’s brow furrows. Where the hell is this even coming from? Steve’s not usually high strung. He gets anxious sometimes, like when he knows they have to do their annual check in with the government doctors, but that’s not unreasonable. If he knows one of the kids is flying, he gets a bit nervous, but Eddie just keeps him distracted as best he can and it passes.

“Suzie mentioned that sometimes I get stuck on small problems and they ruin my day,” he continues. “Do you think that’s true?”

Suzie is going to school to be a therapist and likes to psychoanalyze her friends. It’s equal parts fascinating and annoying, especially when she talks to Steve. He takes everything she says seriously, even though she isn’t licensed yet and probably shouldn’t be giving her professional opinion to him anyway.

“I think that you do what every normal human does sometimes and catastrophize a little when you worry. It’s probably the trauma,” Eddie shrugs and stands, moving close to him, but leaving him space to get away if he needs to. He’s acting a bit like a cornered animal right now. The last thing Eddie needs to do is actually corner him. “If you think it’s harming you, maybe you could talk to a licensed therapist.”

“Suzie’s as good as licensed.” Steve folds his arms across his chest. “And she said I rely too much on you.”

“Did she?” Eddie scoffs. Steve doesn’t. Steve doesn’t rely on fucking anyone. He’d be better off if he did rely on someone more. “What made her come to that conclusion?”

“Apparently I talk about you too much. She thinks you’re my only friend.” Steve sighs. “Now that I say it out loud it does sound wrong. I have friends.”

“No shit.” Eddie grins, leans in until he can smell the cologne Steve always wears to work. “I’m just your best friend.”

“Other than Robin.”

“Other than Robin,” Eddie agrees. He straightens his back and nods his head back towards the chair he was sitting in before. “You wanna sit while I heat up leftovers?”

“Oh, not sure I can stay.” Steve suddenly won’t meet his eyes. “I uh, I have a date.”

Eddie ignores the way his heart clenches in his chest, painfully tightening. Steve’s still antsy, he can tell. He’s gonna go to his apartment and pace and worry until he has to pretend to be fine for his date. And the date won’t realize he’s faking it, that he’s pretending to be fine when he’s not. Eddie can’t let that happen.

“You should cancel.”

Steve gives him a look, one that says he knows what Eddie’s doing and he isn’t gonna fall for it. He has before, though. He probably will this time.

“She’s nice. I’m not gonna cancel just for us to fuck around. What about that guy you saw last month?” Steve snaps his fingers while he tries to remember the quite frankly unremarkable guy Eddie sucked off at a club. “Jeremy? Joey? James?”

“Isaac.”

“I was close!” Steve claps.

“Alphabetically, sure,” Eddie groans. “He was boring. Didn’t even fuck my face when I told him to. He’d probably run screaming if I showed him my plug.”

“I almost ran screaming when you showed me that thing,” Steve laughs. “I’m gonna head out. You find someone more interesting than Isaac.”

Eddie could beg. He’s done it before.

He could go along with it and wait for Steve to inevitably show back up at his place later when he didn’t get what he wanted from whoever this woman is. He’s done that before, too.

He could turn on the waterworks and guilt him into staying. That’s not something he’s tried before. Bound to work, though.

Before he can muster up the fake tears, Steve is walking around him and staring at the chair.

He looks back at Eddie and squints, then back at the chair.

Eddie waits because that’s all he can do. Steve’s either gonna leave and go on his date or he’s gonna stay and they’ll fall into their comforting pattern of being the only people who understand what the other needs.

Steve walks to the phone on the wall, grabs a piece of paper from his wallet, and angrily dials.

“Julie! Hey!” Eddie rolls his eyes, mouths Julie and makes kissy lips while Steve’s back is to him. “Sorry this is so last minute, but they need me to close tonight. Maybe next week?”

Eddie watches as Steve’s shoulders slowly relax. Julie’s probably letting him off the hook, thinking he’s such a hard worker for staying when asked. Maybe she thinks he’ll be up for a promotion, making the big bucks soon.

Eddie knows that Steve’s gonna fuck him up tonight.

He doesn’t hear the rest of the conversation, only focusing back in when the phone drops back on the hook and Steve laughs.

“You should get the ropes.”

It’s not a suggestion as much as a demand, and Eddie doesn’t hesitate to do it. Steve doesn’t like getting tied up, not even if Eddie’s the one doing it, but he loves tying intricate knots around Eddie’s wrists and ankles, sometimes his chest and neck if they have time. It helps ground him, keeps his mind from wandering into anxious territory.

It’s perfect for tonight.

Eddie keeps his ropes in his closet, hung up so they don’t get tangled together. He grabs all of them, in too much of a rush to make a decision about which ones to use.

Steve’s pulled the chair to the center of the room and he’s wringing his hands together like he needs something in them. Robin mentioned getting him a keychain that doubled as a silent clicker so it would keep his hands busy when he needed it, but Steve turned it down. Maybe Eddie can convince him later.

After.

Eddie sits, holds the ropes in his lap, and waits.

Steve circles him like a predator circles their prey before they attack. He’s hot and his heart is racing, and he hopes that he can be forgiven for being selfish enough to get Steve to stay.

He kneels in front of Eddie, grabs his face in his hands, and grins.

“You wanted this.”

It’s true. But he never said it explicitly. Steve just knows. It’s why they work so well.

“I wanted you.”

It’s a bit too honest for them, but Steve doesn’t stop to take Eddie’s words in. He’s up and grabbing the rope from his hands, shoving his shoulder back until he’s almost worried it’ll bruise. Eddie’s pale and Steve’s rough and as much as he likes the reminders of what they do, he’s going to visit Wayne this weekend and doesn’t wanna risk him seeing it.

“Hey. Easy,” Eddie says with just enough bite to make Steve pause. “No bruises.”

Steve nods, apologizes, but continues his work. Eddie lets him.

He closes his eyes and breathes.

There’s something peaceful about letting Steve tie him up, making him helpless in the middle of his own apartment. He knows he’s safe, they’re both safe. He doesn’t have to feel the emptiness inside that he feels when Steve’s not with him.

He feels full, even without the plug.

“Eddie. Look at me.”

Eddie does. His eyes feel heavy for a moment and then he sees how dark Steve’s eyes are, how blown his pupils have gotten. How long has Steve been working on him? Seconds? Minutes? Hours?

“Too tight?” Steve asks, for what must not be the first time. Eddie shakes his head. “Okay. I’m gonna grab the plug.”

Eddie’s not sure why, but he knows it’ll come to him eventually. He nods and waits. Steve’s only gone for a moment, familiar enough with where Eddie keeps everything to be quick.

He sets the lube and plug on the table, then turns to Eddie.

Eddie’s a bit in love with him, he has to admit. It’s pretty terrible to be in love with your best friend, especially when it’s a guy who has made it pretty clear he’s never gonna be ready for a relationship with any man, let alone Eddie.

But he drops everything to do this with him, and he comes here right after work even when he’s exhausted, even if it’s just for a few minutes, even though it’s two miles out of his way. He sleeps in Eddie’s bed when they get too high for him to get back to his place, curled up into his side or around his back. He uses Eddie’s soap in the shower and wears Eddie’s shirt when he forgets to bring the clothes he keeps here home to wash them. He leaves notes around the apartment for him to take his meds and to call Dustin and take out the trash. He does everything with love and it’s hard for Eddie to separate it sometimes.

Steve straddles his lap and waits.

It’s Eddie’s turn now. Focus.

“Gonna be good and listen to me?” Eddie asks him, voice rough.

Steve shivers in his lap. “Yeah. Tell me.”

Eddie uses all his strength to sit up a bit straighter, appear bigger. Steve loves when he’s tied up and bossing him around. He loves being told what to do while Eddie’s like this.

“You gonna stay dressed?” Eddie asks, not caring much either way. Might be hard to get the plug in, but they don’t have to do anything with it if Steve changed his mind.

“For now.”

“Then touch yourself.”

Eddie watches as Steve runs his hands down his chest, skims the edge of his shirt, slides them underneath. He wants him to strip it off, wants to see the way his nipples harden under his own touch, the way his chest hair darkens as sweat beads on his skin the more worked up he gets. He doesn’t make any noise when he pinches his own nipple, just lets out the breath he must’ve been holding for a while.

“Now the other one.”

Steve listens, stays quiet and obedient, just the way Eddie likes him.

“Feel good?” Eddie asks, but he already knows it does. Steve’s nipples are sensitive. He loves having Eddie’s teeth on them, tugging and sucking them into his mouth.

“Yeah, but I want more.”

“Greedy, but fine.” Eddie glances behind him, sees the bottle of lube. “You planning on using that or no?”

Steve follows his gaze, hands never leaving his chest. “The lube or the plug?”

“Either. Both.”

Steve shivers. “Maybe. Rather you do it later.”

Eddie’s not opposed. He likes watching Steve, but if he gets to have his hands on him later, have his plug in him, then he can wait.

“You gonna get yourself off like this then?” Eddie thinks he might be able to if they play their cards right. He’s never come just from playing with his nipples, but it doesn’t seem impossible. He’s riled up right now. On edge in every way. It might be time to try it out.

“Don’t think I can,” Steve admits, pouting his bottom lip out. It should look ridiculous, but it makes heat coil in Eddie’s stomach. He wants to bite it, suck it into his mouth and taste the spit pooling on his tongue. He wants to make him bleed so he can taste that too, find out if it’s as sweet as the rest of him. “Not without a hand on me.”

“I think you can.” Eddie laughs when Steve groans at him. “C’mon. I’ve seen you do harder things. Find a way.”

“Don’t have to be mean. I canceled a date for you,” Steve bites out, pinching his nipples again and scooting forward in Eddie’s lap. His dick is hard in his jeans, but he’s not gonna find what he needs with the way Eddie’s chest and stomach are pulled back with the ropes. Not unless he gets real close. “I’m not doing it all by myself.”

“You tied me up,” Eddie snorts. “I assumed that meant you were gonna do it yourself.”

Eddie’s own dick is straining in his jeans. It’s getting a bit uncomfortable, but he knows Steve will be pissed if he asks him to unbutton his pants. He’s supposed to sit here and take it, and Steve will sit there and do what he says. That’s how this works.

“Sit still then.” Eddie hasn’t moved, but he wants to now that Steve’s made the demand. He scoots even further up, so his dick is rubbing against Eddie’s stomach. It’d feel better if he took his pants off, but he’s stubborn. “I’m gonna get off like this.”

He sounds like he’s trying to convince himself as much as he’s trying to convince Eddie.

“I’ll wait.” Eddie smirks when Steve narrows his eyes at him. “Go ahead. I’ve got all night.”

His legs are a little numb from being tied and having Steve’s weight on them like this. The dining room chair isn’t exactly comfortable to begin with. He’s a little shocked it’s holding both their weight like this.

Steve ruts forward once, twice, groans before he drops his head to Eddie’s shoulder. He isn’t gonna get as much friction as he wants like this, but he can get the job done.

“That’s it. You just need something to rub your dick on, huh? Anything would work,” Eddie teases, voice low. “So desperate.”

He tries to sound annoyed or uninterested, but he knows he sounds a bit awed. Steve’s hips move faster as he talks, the room gets hotter, and the air gets thicker. Eddie gets impossibly harder in his jeans. If it’s possible to break a zipper, he may do it any minute.

Steve whimpers as he bites down on Eddie’s shoulder. He’s a bit sweaty from the day, and he knows his shirt can’t smell or taste good. Steve doesn’t seem bothered.

“Can’t believe you tied me up just to hump me like a dog,” Eddie grins around the words. “You know there’s better ways to do this.”

Steve pauses in his movements, but doesn’t sit up or move his face away from Eddie’s neck. It’s all Eddie needs to know that he can keep going like this.

“So stubborn. I should make you use the wall next time.” Steve whimpers and ruts forward. “You’d love it. I could sit here and watch. Probably hurt after a while, huh?”

Steve nods, but doesn’t say anything. Eddie smiles to himself.

“You like when it hurts though. That’s why you can’t stop what you’re doing now.”

“Mhm. Like it when you hurt me, though.”

Eddie bites his lip. God, he does love hurting Steve. He’s so good at being hurt. Takes it so good and then gives it right back to Eddie as if he isn’t covered in bruises and scars left by Eddie’s teeth and fingers.

“I like it too,” Eddie allows himself to say. It’s important to keep the boundaries there, but sometimes he can be vulnerable. If Steve starts it, he can follow. “You gonna let me touch you?”

“Maybe in a minute.”

“You’re only hurting yourself, baby.” Eddie rolls his shoulders, breath hitching at the way it tugs the ropes tighter around his wrists for a moment. Baby is allowed. Steve said it first months ago, one of the first times they did this, and it stuck. It’s fine, especially when it’s slightly mocking like this. “I could make it feel so good. You know I take care of you.”

Steve tenses, almost like he’s going to come, then groans and pulls his head back, looking at Eddie with wide eyes.

Eddie looks back at him, calculating, trying to get a read on what’s going on in his head.

He’s still unsure what truly caused his panic earlier, other than Suzie’s words. Something had to, though. He’s still sifting through it, not quite over the tension.

And then it hits him.

His date.

Steve hasn’t had a real date in months. He’s definitely done questionable things in bar bathrooms, but he hasn’t taken a girl out since…

Since they started this.

Eddie rushes to think back to what Suzie told him, thinks about things Steve probably left out of his explanation. How quick he was to cancel the date once he knew what was on offer.

Steve struggles with being the one to call the shots. Not just in bed, but always. He always asks others to choose what they do, and usually tries to leave another adult in charge as often as he can.

Other than life or death situations, Steve Harrington likes to follow someone else’s lead.

This thing they have, whatever it may be, it works. Eddie calls the shots a lot, but there’s still times when Steve’s in charge. Like now, when Eddie’s tied up, completely at his mercy. He may be encouraging Steve to do things, but he’s not the one making the decisions, not really.

It’s Steve’s safe place to call the shots. Eddie’s his safe space. Not this girl he was going to take to dinner or a movie or back to his place.

“Hey.” Eddie wants his hands free, but it’s selfish. His mind is reeling as he thinks of a way to do this without making Steve lose the control he has. “You’re gonna do something for me.”

It’s another demand, but he knows Steve will listen.

“What?” Steve asks, flushed and struggling not to find any more friction.

“Tell me three things you want me to do.”

Steve’s shaking and Eddie doesn’t know if it’s from being so close to the edge or from nerves or from being overwhelmed with all of it at once. He’s never looked so unsure when they’re doing this, not even the first time when they hadn’t figured out how to communicate yet.

“Like…now?”

“I want you to answer now, but it can be stuff you want me to do later.”

Everything shifts again; A whine marks the moment that Steve gives in.

“Can you-”

“No.” Eddie leans in, gets close enough that he can feel Steve’s breath against his own lips. “Don’t ask me. Tell me.”

Steve lets out a shaky breath, closes his eyes, and relaxes his shoulders. Eddie watches, waits patiently. His legs are starting to get tingly, almost painfully so. The feeling comes and goes as Steve shifts in his lap, moving weight from one leg to the other and then settling on both.

“Open me up.” Steve says so quietly Eddie almost asks him to repeat it. “I want four fingers.”

“Four? You sure?” Eddie’s never given him four. Steve’s never given himself four as far as he knows.

“Yeah. I can take it.”

“Okay. That’s one,” Eddie wants to kiss him, but he won’t. He can’t. Even if he weren’t tied up, he wouldn’t. “Another one.”

“I want you to fuck me.” Steve pauses like he’s going to say more. Eddie waits again, less patiently now that he knows what the next hour might entail. “In your bed.”

The silence that follows his request is louder than their breaths, louder than the thud, thud, thud of their hearts beating in their chests.

They don’t do that. They do a lot of shit, but they don’t do that. They fuck on the couch, the chair, against the wall, the shower, the floor. Never the bed. Not Eddie’s, not Steve’s.

It’s like kissing, in a way: silently forbidden.

Steve tenses when Eddie doesn’t respond. He starts to scoot back to get up, but Eddie lets out a noise close to a whine. He wants to move his hands, grip Steve’s hips so hard that there’s no way he doesn’t have bruises in the shape of his fingertips in the morning.

“What’s the third thing?” Eddie asks, making sure he knows he needs to stay right where he is.

Steve doesn’t say it. He’s pushing Eddie, seeing how far Eddie will push back. He could get up right now, go to Eddie’s bed, and they’ll forget all about the third thing. Eddie will let it be left in this room, never to be mentioned again.

“I’ll tell you later.”

He should insist on it now, but he won’t. Steve’s taking the reins now.

“Untie me.”

Mostly.

Steve works quickly, letting the ropes fall to the floor as Eddie slowly moves his limbs to get feeling back. He shivers when Steve’s fingers brush against his wrist, pulse speeding up under his careful touch.

“Anything hurt?” Steve asks, checking in the way Eddie showed him to the first time. Eddie taught him a lot of things. “Need anything?”

“No, baby, I’m good,” Eddie smiles, a real one, a soft one. Something almost too gentle for what they’re doing. “Let’s get in bed.”

He almost forgets to grab the lube and plug on the table behind him, but remembers when he watches Steve adjust himself in his pants and awkwardly half-waddle out of the room. He wants to use them when they’re done, after Eddie’s fucked him until he can’t talk.

Steve’s finally undressing, leaving his clothes in a pile on the floor. It feels like they belong there, like they could find a home in Eddie’s laundry basket, and then in his closet. Like pieces of Steve could stay.

Steve looks good in his bed, on his back, parting his legs. His hand cups his balls, lifts them as if he’s showing off exactly where he wants Eddie to go. Eddie’s dick leaks at the thought of being inside him.

He could probably lick him open and shove inside him with no argument, even though it would be uncomfortable and probably a little too painful even for Steve’s taste. He likes feeling the pinch of too much, the drag of skin that should be wetter. Maybe next time.

Eddie’s not gonna be mean like that, but he is gonna be quick. He’s not patient enough to take his time the way Steve may have thought he would.

He spits on Steve’s dick as he settles between his legs.

“Keep touching yourself. Don’t come,” he orders, pouring lube onto his fingers. “If you come, we stop.”

Steve whimpers and nods, accepts the challenge for what it is. His hand moves slow, languid in finding the perfect level of pleasure to keep him on the edge but not sending him over.

Eddie starts with two fingers, a happy medium between the pain Steve likes and the pain Eddie wants to try someday. It’s still enough to have Steve tighten around him, letting out a noise he’s never made before.

Eddie pauses and raises a brow up at him. Steve relaxes. Eddie continues.

He’s not gentle, but he could be a lot rougher. He has one purpose: open Steve up. He doesn’t even try to find his prostate until he’s ready to add the fourth finger that Steve wanted so bad.

Steve’s barely moving his hand anymore, just squeezing the base of his cock like it’s the only thing keeping him on earth. He’s burning up inside and out, sweat building on his thighs, darkening the hairs just enough to be noticeable.

As soon as Eddie pushes the fourth finger into him, Steve goes still and silent. Any sign of the anxious mess of a person who was pacing his kitchen floor earlier is long gone.

Eddie only gives him a second before he moves, pulls his fingers out and pushes them back in. It’s tight, really tight.

“Gotta relax or I can’t fuck you like you wanted,” Eddie reminds him. He looks down at where he’s stretching Steve, watches his hole flutter around his fingers as he desperately tries to relax. “Bet I could get my whole hand in if I used more lube.”

Eddie’s actually not sure he could with how tight Steve is now with just four, but Steve pants, nods like he agrees. Maybe they can try that, too.

Now that the bed is an option, Eddie could try a lot of things. So could Steve. Eddie thinks feeling his entire hand inside him might be enough to send him over the edge, dick untouched.

Steve finally relaxes enough around him so he can move and there has to be a direct connection between his fingertips and his own dick with how it jumps when he stretches his fingers. He’s sweating now, too, using his free hand to brush the hair off his shoulder for a moment.

“Your hand’s so big,” Steve whines, lifting his legs back further with what little strength he has left. ”So much.”

Eddie agrees. He’s watching how much he’s stretching him out and thinks it should be impossible.

He feels lost right now, shocked into watching what he’s doing rather than doing what the logical next step is: getting his dick inside Steve. It’s mesmerizing.

“Eddie?” Steve’s voice is unsure. “Look at me.”

Eddie’s eyes snap up to his face, unblinking.

“You need me to tell you what I want?” Steve asks, letting his legs fall to the bed. The new angle shifts his fingers so they brush against Steve’s prostate. He bites back a moan, but so does Eddie. “Let me.”

Eddie nods. He can’t fucking think for himself right now. Some switch flipped when he saw the way Steve took him, and he’s not sure he can switch it back by himself.

“Touch yourself. Get yourself wet.”

He does it. How can he not when Steve is taking deep breaths to keep himself calm? How can he not when he’d do anything that Steve asks of him?

He misses Steve around his fingers, misses the heat of it, the warmth that ran from his hand to his chest. The direct link is gone, even if just for a moment.

Eddie spits on his hand, makes the glide of his hand easier. He knows not to come, but he knows he could. Steve’s eyes are on him, watching and assessing, figuring out what he’ll do next.

Steve isn’t the type to drag this on. He doesn’t like delaying his own pleasure. He’ll make Eddie come inside him the way they both want, he knows that.

But he still worries this will be the time he can’t hold back, that Steve will watch him until he comes and then the night will be done.

“Just the tip.” Steve’s words make Eddie whine. It’s not enough, but it might be too much. “Take it slow.”

Eddie leans down, lines himself up. The moment he’s inside Steve, he groans and his brain resets, focuses.

He waits for Steve to say he can give him more. He wants to give him more, he needs-

“More.” Steve is barely holding it together at this point, Eddie can tell from the way his voice shakes and his hand grips Eddie’s shoulder like his life depends on it. “Slow.”

Eddie goes slow. One inch further, one degree warmer.

Another inch and Steve’s grip is harder, bringing him back to earth.

He shares a look with Steve, sending the message that he’s good, he wants to take things from here. Steve will let him.

“You’re so good,” Eddie groans against his mouth as he kisses him, pushes in until he feels tight heat surrounding him completely. “Always so good for me.”

Steve tightens around him, legs wrapping around Eddie’s back and tugging him closer. It feels too much like something he can hold onto, something way more than what it’s supposed to be. He doesn’t comment on it. He can’t.

Steve tilts his head back, lids heavy as he begs Eddie for something only Eddie can give him.

He wraps a hand around Steve’s throat, squeezes once, and fucks into him hard.

Steve’s hand moves to Eddie’s wrist, his silent permission to keep going, understanding of what he has to do for this to keep going.

They’ve never properly talked about this. It’s stupid and Eddie knows he needs to be careful.

He is. He’s always careful with Steve.

He only does it twice more, but it’s enough to have Steve pushing back against him, asking for more. Eddie removes his hand, grazes it down his chest, grips at his chest hair and tugs.

Steve yelps and Eddie smirks. “Thought you liked when I was mean,” he says to be extra mean. “You beg me to be rough all the time.”

“Be rough. But slow.”

Eddie is too close to go slow, but he thinks Steve’s in the same boat. He can probably get away with a few minutes of being rough before he comes.

“Wanna taste you,” Steve says, and it sounds like it might be the third thing he wanted. Eddie’s not sure what he means, though. They don’t kiss so it can’t be that. “Please, let me taste you.”

Eddie holds his chin, considers his next move as he fucks into him once, twice, grinds into him until they’re both breathless. He digs his fingers in, keeps Steve’s jaw open.

He leans in close enough to feel Steve’s breath in his own mouth.

“You wanna taste me?” He whispers.

“Yes.”

Eddie licks Steve’s bottom lip, so quick he could almost convince himself it didn’t actually happen.

Then he spits. Right in Steve’s mouth, watches it pool on his tongue.

Steve swallows it without being told to, closes his eyes and groans. He looks blissed out, cheeks red and forehead shining with sweat. He’s never been more beautiful, never made Eddie want to devour him quite like this.

It’s hard to keep things slow after that, but god, he tries. He would do anything for Steve, but he’s only human. He can’t be this close for much longer.

Steve’s eyes open and he doesn’t have to say anything for Eddie to know he’s too close to keep going.

They come seconds apart, so close Eddie’s not even sure who got there first.

Eddie fucks into him until he physically can’t anymore, wincing when it’s too much for his softening dick. He always pushes too much.

Steve lets out a laugh as Eddie falls to the side, grunting when his cheek smacks against Steve’s arm. He sighs and rests his lips against the skin there, scared to bring attention to it, but not wanting to put space between them yet.

It’s quiet for a while, their breathing evening out slowly as they come down. He still doesn’t move, but his brain’s starting to catch up and he’s left wondering something. He probably shouldn’t ask.

“What’s the third thing you want me to do?” Eddie asks anyway.

Steve is still, and Eddie thinks he hears his breath hitch.

His other hand comes up, resting gently on Eddie’s head. It’s a heavy weight on him, making him hotter when he’s already overheated. A comfort when he’s been giving and taking so much.

“Love me.”

Eddie should be more surprised to hear it maybe. He doesn’t even have a reaction at first, just soaks in the words.

Loving Steve Harrington has been easy so far, even though it’s been in silence. Understanding who he is, what he likes, what makes him tick, all of it has been a gift.

Even when he overthinks things, even when he’s high strung.

But loving Steve Harrington loudly, in the way he needs, the way he craves, might be even easier.

So he lets his lips pucker, kisses Steve’s arm.

“Is that all?” He asks, looking up at Steve with a smile.

[wingedhallows]

Hiiii, hope you're doing fine and are having a great day 🩵

I just wanted to request a Caitlyn X fem!reader with eating disorders. Like Caitlyn and reader are together for a long time and Caitlyn starts to notice something weird but doesn't really know what to do? Could be angst, hurt/comfort, fluff, just anything you want 🩵and if you're not comfortable with writing this, it's ok!!

𝐄𝐀𝐓 𝐒𝐎𝐌𝐄𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐆

━━ -ˋˏ⟿

-‘๑’- 𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆 caitlyn kiramman x reader /0.6k words -‘๑’- 𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐒 angst, eating disorder - nothing explicit -‘๑’- 𝐀𝐔𝐓𝐇𝐎𝐑𝐒 𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄 thank you for requesting this. i had to really think how to approach this but i enjoyed writing a little emotional something. i hope u like it!

♡︎ 𝐍𝐀𝐕𝐈𝐆𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍 ♡︎

You love pancakes—you always have. For as long as Caitlyn can remember, pancakes have been your favorite breakfast. Sometimes you’d load them up with whipped cream, other times with berries and a drizzle of melted chocolate.

But lately, pancakes haven’t been the same. You barely touch them. And it’s not just the pancakes—it’s the little bretzels you used to devour during one of Cait’s old movie nights. Something shifted. But Cait’s sure: it started with the damn pancakes.

Caitlyn’s never been one for jumping to conclusions. She doesn’t want to corner you, to make you say something neither of you are ready to admit. So she does what she knows—she makes the pancakes.

She’ll offer them, just like always. And if you turn them down—again—then maybe she’ll finally ask the questions that have been eating at her. Because she can’t ignore it anymore. Not when she knows you've started buying clothes three sizes too small. Not when her own uniform would hang loose on your frame. She won’t stop—not until she gets to the bottom of it.

Now she stands in the kitchen, one hand braced against the counter, watching the batter bubble and turn golden in the pan. You’d love these, under normal circumstances.

You’d devour them, grin through powdered sugar, tease her about whether it’s her mother’s recipe. And she’d laugh. You’d share a plate, and she’d get to kiss the sweetness off your lips.

She flips a pancake just as soft footsteps pad into the kitchen—lighter than they used to be.

“Morning,” you mumble.

She turns her head, offering a small smile, choosing gentleness instead of confrontation. “Morning, sweetheart.”

You move around the counter, her oversized shirt hanging off your frame, falling to mid-thigh. Your shoulders are sharper now, more fragile beneath the fabric.

You rise onto your toes and press a faint kiss to Caitlyn’s cheek. She hums in return, but her fingers twitch at your side, hesitant.

“I made your favorite for breakfast,” she says, voice soft, coaxing. Her hand brushes lightly along your waist, the touch as careful as her words.

You glance at the pan, at the pancake sizzling gently. And she watches it happen—the hesitation, the flash of panic in your eyes. That flicker of fear at the thought of eating something with real weight to it. It guts her, because you were never like this before. You never used to flinch at food.

“I’m not really hungry,” you whisper. The words are quiet. Apologetic.

Cait sets the spatula down with a soft clatter. Her hand slips away from your waist. “You’re never hungry these days, are you?”

It comes out sharper than she means. You flinch. Your throat tightens, but you try to smile through it—gentle, shaky. “I don’t know what you mean, baby.”

But Caitlyn shakes her head. Her lips press into a trembling line, eyes shining, and she steps back from you—once, twice—until she’s leaning against the kitchen island like it’s the only thing holding her up.

“Do you want to leave me?” she chokes out.

Your heart stutters. “What—?”

“Because that’s what it feels like.” Her voice wavers, rough and raw. “You’re disappearing in front of me, and I don’t know how to help. I don’t know how to fix this, love.”

She rakes a hand through her hair, like she’s trying to hold herself together by sheer will.

“I’ve let this go on too long. You’ve become so thin and I... I don’t know what to do anymore. I don’t know how to save you.”

Her voice breaks on the last word. You stand there, frozen. Mouth slightly open. Hands trembling.

“Cait…” you say, barely above a whisper.

But she holds up a hand, her expression twisting, like she’s trying not to cry.

“Please, love… eat the pancakes. Or something else. I’ll make you whatever you want. Just—please. Eat something.”

You swallow hard, throat burning. And you look at her—really look. How her shoulders hunch under the weight of worry. How her eyes plead with you like she’s already lost you.

You did this. You put that look on her face.

“Okay,” you say, your voice hoarse with the tears you don’t let fall.

It’ll be hard. You know it will. But you’ll do it.

You’ll eat every bite of those pancakes if it means Caitlyn never has to look at you like that again.

Like she’s already mourning you.

[sunsetmade]

Symptoms: You

Bucky Barnes x Reader

Summary: Bucky ends up getting sick leaving his girlfriend to take care of him— even when he’s grumpy.

There was a specific kind of stubbornness that only came with a hundred-year-old super soldier who refused to admit he was sick.

Bucky had been sniffling since he got home—quiet at first, trying to hide it—but she noticed. His shoulders were drawn up, tense with the kind of discomfort he wasn’t ready to admit to, and his eyes, usually so clear and alert, were glassy. A flush high on his cheekbones gave him away more than anything else. That, and the subtle wobble in his steps as he moved through the apartment.

From the kitchen doorway, she watched as he tugged a blanket haphazardly over his shoulders, trying to look functional. Steady. But the illusion cracked with every dragging step and shallow breath.

“I’m fine,” he said, again. That made four times now.

“You don’t look fine,” she said gently, arms folded as she leaned against the doorframe.

He didn’t look at her. “I always look like this.”

“No, Bucky. Usually you look tired. Now you look sick and tired.”

He shot her a look over his shoulder, a glare that should’ve been sharp but barely registered as a pout. It dissolved entirely when he stopped halfway across the room, bracing himself against the arm of the couch like just walking had winded him.

She walked over, pressing a cool glass of water into his hand without waiting for him to ask. “You need to sit down.”

“I’m not—”

“Bucky.”

Just his name, softly spoken, but with a firmness that made his shoulders sag in defeat. He took the water with a quiet grunt, eyes avoiding hers as he sank into the cushions. She followed him down, crouching beside the couch and reaching up to brush the damp strands of hair off his forehead.

Her touch made him close his eyes briefly. His skin was hot beneath her fingers, flushed and clammy. Not just tired. Burning up.

“Let me take your temperature.”

“I don’t need—”

“If you argue again,” she warned, lifting a brow, “I’m going to take your arm off and use it to hold the thermometer still.”

That finally earned a faint spark of amusement, barely a twitch at the corner of his mouth. “You’re bossy when I’m dying,” he muttered, voice hoarse.

“You’re not dying. You’re congested.”

Beep.

She showed him the display: 101.3°F.

He didn’t even flinch. “I’ve had worse,” he mumbled, half-asleep already.

“That’s not the point.” She huffed out a chuckle.

She stood up without waiting for a reply, disappearing down the hall. Bucky slouched further into the cushions, blanket pulled tighter around him, muttering something about “being babied” like it was a crime. But he didn’t move. Didn’t protest when she returned a few minutes later with a bowl of soup, a cold washcloth, and the thermometer still in hand like a silent warning.

She set the tray down and knelt beside him again, dipping the cloth into the water and wringing it out with care. He watched her through heavy lids, blue eyes hazy and rimmed red from fever. She didn’t say anything about the way his hands were trembling. Or how his flesh hand stayed curled tight against his abdomen, like every breath hurt just a little.

She just pressed the washcloth gently to his forehead, soft and cool.

He exhaled slowly, leaning into her touch and sliding his metal arm around her waist.

“You don’t have to take care of me doll,” he said after a long pause, voice barely above a whisper.

“I want to,” she replied simply, tucking the blanket higher over his chest. Her fingers brushed his collarbone before pulling away, gentle as the rest of her.

Bucky’s gaze flicked to her face, and for a long moment, he just looked at her. Really looked. Fever still dulled the usual sharp edges in his eyes, but something quiet and unguarded rested there now. Something soft.

“‘S not exactly how I pictured our night,” he rasped.

“I know,” she murmured, smoothing his hair back again, letting her fingers linger this time. “Me neither.”

He exhaled through his nose, the sound tired, but content in a way that made her chest ache. Leaning back slowly, he let his head fall against the couch cushion while she adjusted the blanket higher up his chest, tucking it gently under his chin. He didn’t flinch when her hand brushed his jaw in the process. If anything, he leaned into the touch—barely, but enough to make her pause.

The room had gone still, wrapped in warmth and the soft hum of the heater. The spoon resting in the bowl beside her made a faint clink when she stirred the soup absently, her hand still resting on his blanket-covered chest. His eyes were closed again. Not asleep, just… resting. Giving in.

Then, her voice came through the quiet.

“Do you want to lie down, Buck?”

“No,” he whispered. “‘M good right here.”

But not even a minute passed before he shifted, sluggish and deliberate. He nudged his head gently until it found her thigh, testing the weight of it like he wasn’t sure he was allowed. She didn’t move. Only adjusted slightly to support him better, her hand already finding his hair again.

He let out a low breath, one that seemed to deflate the last of his resistance, and nestled his cheek against her leg. The fever had him flushed and sluggish, but this—her—he trusted enough to let go.

“You okay?” she whispered, thumb tracing a line just above his temple.

He hummed softly. It wasn’t a yes, not fully, but it was close enough.

She didn’t speak again. Just carded her fingers through his thick hair, slow and rhythmic, her nails barely grazing his scalp. Comfort. Anchor. Something solid for him to sink into.

He didn’t say much after that. Didn’t need to.

His hand found her knee, warm and heavy, fingers curling gently around the curve of it like he just needed to feel her there. His thumb moved once, brushing her skin—just once—and then stayed. Quiet thanks.

She kept brushing her fingers through his hair, and when she whispered that he should try to sleep, he didn’t answer. But his breathing slowed. Grew deep. Steady.

And then—still.

He’d fallen asleep in her lap.

His vibranium arm hung limp off the side of the couch, the metal catching the last bit of fading daylight, fingers twitching faintly as if even in sleep, part of him still lingered half-aware. But the rest of him—the real, human parts—had melted into her like she was something safe. Something known. His cheek was warm against her leg. The weight of him there was heavy but not burdensome. Never that.

She kept her hand in his hair a smile resting on her face. Gentle. Reassuring.

Time passed like that. Minutes stretching, soft and undisturbed.

By the time he stirred again, the room had dimmed. Evening had settled, casting shadows along the walls. He blinked slowly, groggy, his brow pulling together as he tried to make sense of the hour.

“How long was I out?” he rasped, voice thick with sleep.

She looked down at him, a faint smile tugging at her lips. “Couple hours.”

His brow creased. He shifted slightly, then stilled again. “You should’ve moved,” he murmured. “Bet your legs are numb.”

“They are,” she admitted softly.

He lifted his head an inch, enough to glance up at her through squinted eyes. “Why didn’t you say anything?”

She shrugged, looking down at the curls spilling over his forehead. Her fingers brushed them back gently, tucking them behind his ear. “You looked peaceful.”

He didn’t respond right away. His hand still rested on her leg, the weight of it grounding both of them. Then, just above a whisper—

“You’re too good to me, doll.”

Her gaze lifted to his, surprised by the quiet tenderness there. “You’d do the same,” she said.

And he would. She knew that.

His eyes softened. “Yeah,” he said quietly. “I would.”

She brushed her hand over his face again, her knuckles grazing his cheek. His skin was still warm, fever lingering, but his breathing had steadied.

“I still might take your arm if you try to get up tomorrow,” she said, half a tease, half a threat.

He gave a rasp of a laugh, low and rough in his chest. “You wouldn’t dare.”

She smiled. “Don’t test me.”

A grin ghosted across his lips, tired but real, and he let his head fall back onto her leg with a sigh. This time, he shifted just enough to bury his face there, nose pressed into the curve of her thigh, like he needed the closeness. Her warmth. Her smell. Something real to cling to in the haze of fever and exhaustion. He pressed light kisses to her bare thighs making her giggle.

“Stay a little longer,” he murmured, breath tickling her skin.

She didn’t answer.

She just curled her hand in his hair again, her other brushing lightly along his shoulder, and stayed right there—holding him through the quiet, until sleep took him again.

⸻

Bucky woke slowly, the early morning light filtering through the curtains and casting a soft, golden haze over the room. They were now in his bedroom. His body felt lighter, the tight ache in his chest from the day before finally loosened. The fever had broken sometime in the night, leaving him just tired—and comfortably warm.

Warm, because she was still there.

He yawned, stretching his arms out with a low groan before letting them settle again—one draped possessively around her middle, hand splayed against the soft fabric of her shirt, keeping her close. She was tucked beneath the blankets with him, curled into his side, her head resting against his shoulder, their legs tangled somewhere under the sheets. His chin found its place atop her hair as easily as breathing.

His fingers flexed slightly against her stomach, pulling her in even closer, like his body couldn’t stand even an inch of space between them.

A soft, sleepy smile tugged at his lips as he felt her begin to stir beside him.

She mumbled something incoherent and shifted, rolling toward him until they were chest to chest, her cheek now pressed over his heart. Bucky moved without thinking, brushing a loose strand of hair from her face, his thumb ghosting along the curve of her cheek.

“Good morning, doll,” he rasped, voice still heavy with sleep.

She grumbled in reply, nuzzling closer with a sniffle, her breath warm against his chest. Then, without even lifting her head—

“You got me sick.”

He chuckled, the sound rough but amused, and tilted his head to look down at her. “Guess we’re even now.”

“No,” she mumbled, her voice thick. “You were a pain when you were sick.”

“And you love me anyway,” he muttered smugly, pressing a kiss to the top of her head.

She grumbled again in a way that sounded suspiciously like agreement, wrapping her arms tighter around his waist, burying herself in his warmth.

Bucky shifted just enough to look at her fully, eyes soft, hand tracing slow, absentminded circles against her back. “You stayed with me all night,” he said quietly.

“You drooled on me.”

He grinned. “Still nice of you.”

“Shut up,” she whispered, the smallest smile on her lips now, even through the sniffles. Her fingers curled into the fabric of his t-shirt.

“Need anything?” he asked gently, voice low, rough with affection. “Water? Blanket? Revenge?”

She shook her head against him. “Just this.”

Bucky stilled at that—then held her tighter.

“Okay,” he murmured, lips brushing her hair. “Just this.”

And he didn’t move. Didn’t let go. Not even when her breathing slowed again, soft and steady against his chest.

He stayed right there, wrapped around her like a blanket, like he’d never let her go.

[corrodedheartsclub]

I’m Dumb She’s a Lesbian

Steddie. Modern au. Getting together. Platonic Stobin. 1685 words.

Steve’s used to people mistaking him and Robin as a couple. Unfortunately, he’s not used to Eddie’s form of problem solving.

After trying to explain to Eddie, without success, that him and Robin are purely platonic, he mistakenly admits that he did have a crush on her briefly, but once he knew it was never going to happen, they’ve become best friend. Platonic soulmates even.

“It’s honestly so for the best, Eddie. We weren’t meant to be a couple. We’re like cosmically linked on a whole other level.” Ok, Steve might be a little high, but he really believe him and Robin are meant to be in the most platonic way possible. He’s laying on Eddie’s bed, the joint their sharing nearly gone, and he can’t help the goofy smile that splits across his face. “Eddie, you know… I actually-”

“You guys are perfect together though! You’re always together, laughing and leaning on each other. How could there be no chance?” Eddie laments.

Steve shakes his head and groans, turning his face into the sheet. Eddie was hopeless.

“You’ve just gotta find the right timing.” Eddie doesn’t understand a world where anyone would shoot down this newly evolved Harrington. He’s perfect, and if Eddie can’t have him, he’ll make it his personal mission to get Steve and Robin together.

Steve’s watching him, wondering what the heck is going on in that head of his. Eddie was a mystery to him.

-

Kicking off his plan, Eddie starts by asking them to go to the movies, only to bail at the last minute. “I completely forgot I promised Wayne I’d help him work on the truck. I’m the worst, but no you guys should still go! Enjoy the movie!” He urges them on.

They sit through a cheesy romcom, and by five minutes in, they’re both questioning Eddie’s choice in movies. Never mind that Steve did end up really like it.

“That was weird, right?” Robin questions as they leave the theater.

“Which part?” Steve was finishing the last of his candy by turning over the box. He looks over at her, a mouthful of sour gummy worms.

Robin laughs, “You look like a creature.”

Steve crosses his eyes and laughs.

She’s shaking her head. “Eddie. He’s being weird. Did you notice anything last night when you guys were hanging out?”

“Mostly that he’s gorgeous and still completely oblivious every time I try to tell him how I feel,” Steve grumbles. “Plus, he’s so convinced we should be dating.”

“We? Like, you and I?” Robin mock gags, but then she jumps and smacks Steve’s arm. “That’s it!”

“Ow what the fuck, Buckley? What’s it?”

“He’s trying to parent trap us!”

Steve looks skeptical, but he starts connecting the dots in his head. He gaps. “Oh fuck.”

“Ok, we’ve just gotta sit him down and tell him we’re not together.”

“You could just tell him you’re gay and have a girlfriend. That would probably kill this idea that we belong together. I mean, he’s gay, so you shouldn’t have to worry about him?” Steve suggests.

“I’m just not ready to scream it from the rooftops. Plus, Vickie’s in the closet too, and I don’t want our time together being put under a microscope and risk outing her before she’s ready. I know I can trust Eddie to be supportive, but he’s so loud and proud and though I love that about him, I worry he’d let it slip on accident.”

Steve understands. Eddie is bold and outgoing, and it’s all wonderful. It’s just not what Robin needs right now. He agrees they just need to sit him down and set the record straight.

-

Steve leans against the counter at Family Video. The day’s been painfully slow so far, and he finds himself slow-blinking at the door, dozing off against his better judgment.

The door chimes and shocks him awake. He’s greeted by Dustin dumping a pile of returns in front of him. “Good morning,” he teases.

He rolls his eyes and groans at him. “You watch too many movies.” He yawns through Dustin’s offended scoff.

“Did you just go to the movies last night? Hypocrite!” Dustin defends.

Steve shoots him a look. “How do you know that? Stalking me, kid?”

“I was picking up character sheets from Eddie. He had some extras and I’m prepping for our next campaign. He said you and Robin were out watching a romcom. Are you guys finally dating?”

Steve lets out a small chuckle. “Ah, the man of the hour. No, we’re not dating, and we’ll never be dating. Eddie’s just trying to make something happen. Nosy little shits, the lot of you.”

Dustin looks skeptical. “Why would Eddie want you and Robin together? That doesn’t make any sense.”

“You’re the one that just asked if we’re finally dating, and now you’re flipping the script. Who’s the hypocrite now?” Steve is scanning in the movies and shaking his head.

“I just mean that Eddie wouldn’t want you guys together because he’s totally into you,” Dustin says it like an obvious fact. “He’s always so whiny about it.”

Steve freezes. “What?”

The kid’s eyes widen as he realizes his overstep. “I shouldn’t have said that.”

Steve’s already reaching for the phone. He punches in Robin’s number and points at Dustin while it rings. “You shouldn’t have. We’re going to talk later about not blabbing other people’s secrets. For now- scram.”

Dustin has the hindsight to look remorseful.

Robin answers with a theatric sigh. “Are you so hopeless without me that you must call on my day off?”

“Change of plans. I’m going to catch Eddie in his own trap, and you’re going to help.”

-

It’s all going according to plan. Steve and Robin find that it’s pretty easy to give Eddie the slip on his attempts.

Eddie tries to get Robin and Steve on a romantic date? Oh no, Robin’s got a family emergency. Eddie, you should stay so Steve isn’t all alone.

Lined up for Robin and Steve have to ride the ferris wheel together? Whoops, Robin remembers she’s afraid of heights at the front of the line, quick Eddie switch with her so Steve didn’t wait in this line for nothing.

Eddie sent flowers to Robin at family video with a card that says from Steve. Shame that the order got mixed up, and they went to Steve instead. Oh, but look how Steve blushes at the delivery.

The duo is feeling pretty good about their plan, but Eddie is losing his mind. Instead of fixing his crush, he’s fallen harder than ever. Every time he thinks he’s set the perfect trap, it twists around, and he finds himself spending more time with Steve. He’s not complaining necessarily. Any time alone with Steve makes his heart pound in his chest, but if he can’t have this perfect guy, he’s set on getting him the girl of his dreams.

Alternatively, Robin is starting to find it more and more difficult to explain to Vickie why she’s playing a game of set-up chicken with her friends.

Robin decides it’s time to end Eddie’s misery.

Her and Steve plan an elaborate picnic out at skull rock. There’s a big blanket, tons of pillows, and the most classic picnic basket you’ve ever seen.

Steve is pacing at the tree line. He needs this to go well. His crush had settled deep in his chest, and Steve was sure it was love. He didn’t want to play games with Eddie. It was time for everyone to clear the air and be direct with their feelings, but he couldn’t help the nerves that made him question everything. What if Eddie didn’t like him? Maybe he really did think Steve and Robin belonged together.

He tries to clear his mind. Robin was telling Eddie to come meet him here right about now. He should be here soon. Steve fiddles with his hair, trying to quell the anxiety.

When Eddie finally makes his way through the woods, Steve isn’t sure how to greet him.

Eddie’s surprised at the setup, and he immediately tries to rationalize it before Steve can get a word out. “Did you mean for me to come here? Buckley said you were looking for me, but I can go get her? Or do you need help setting up… I’m not sure you can do much else. It looks perfect.”

Steve is dumbfounded at Eddie’s ability to completely misread his intent, once again.

“No, Eddie, I meant for you to be here. This is for you.” He tries to speak clearly, leaving no room for confusion.

Eddie looks utterly confused. “For me?”

Steve can’t help his fond smile. “Yes, dummy. You. If you can stop trying to set me up with my best friend for a minute, I’ve been trying to ask you out for a while now.”

The man is gaping at him. “No. You’re not serious.”

He groans and tosses his hands up. “Eddie, what do I have to do to convince you?” Steve stares at him for a moment before he gets a bright idea. He stands up straight, walks up to Eddie in two long strides, grabs his face, and kisses him.

Eddie lets out a surprised noise before grabbing at Steve’s arms, waist, hair, anything for purchase to pull him closer.

Steve parts, pressing their foreheads together and keeping Eddie close. Eddie whines softly before looking back at Steve, trying to understand it all.

“I just wanted you to be happy. I didn’t think- I had no idea this was an option. Even if it couldn’t be with me, I just knew you deserved all the happiness,” the words spill out as Eddie reaches up to touch Steve’s face gently, tracing along his jaw reverently.

“I’m in love with you. I tried to get the words out so many times, but I was so nervous for how you’d react.” Steve leans into the touch.

Eddie’s breath hitches. “I love you too.”

-

Later, Robin introduces Eddie to her girlfriend, and he spends the rest of the afternoon apologizing for his schemes.

[atxxzist]

the softest kind of love | c.s (prologue)

pairing: choi san x f!reader

genre: cat hybrid!san, fluff

word count: 2k

next // series m.list

winter is here. the more chilling temperature in comparison to fall that makes your skin shivers as the blanket of snow drops from the sky and turn the ground you step on into nothing but layers of white.

you love winter. you love the morning coffees and the cozying up in bed as the frost covers your window, watching the snowfall show outside in the comfort of your own home.

you just wish you were able to enjoy it. school and work has kept you so busy, the cold and the piling of your favorite season at your doorstep now an annoyance more than anything.

before moving to seoul, you had done so much convincing against your parents wishes, telling them you were gonna be fine although they've pretty much predicted your current predicament: overworked, stressed, and barely making it through financially--all the reasons why they were skeptical about you moving to a new city and living alone in the first place.

but your rents are paid, assignments always on time, and your stomach full on most days if you don't forget to eat all your meals. it's the little things you're still grateful for.

as you trail up the stairs to your apartment on the second floor, you thought the 'meow' you had heard earlier was an illusion from the long day of work, but when you turn toward the bottom of the stairs and set your eyes on a fluffy white cat seated at the end of it, it's good to know you're still at least sane.

"meow."

it's more like a kitten, so small and cute glaring at you with its wide eyes, hurling out another 'meow' that tugs at your heartstrings because what is it doing all alone in the cold on such a night?

now, you're absolutely not a pet person, having always been afraid of dogs and all--coupled with the fact you can barely take care of yourself, but you're not heartless.

you make ways back down the stairs slowly and surely to not startle it, bending down to rub its fur gently and cooing under your breath, "hey kitty, what are you doing out here alone?" as if i can understand and speak to you in return.

you do a last once-over of the area just to be sure you're not mistaken and its owner or mother cat happens to be nearby. you don't wanna be a catnapper now.

"meow," it purrs again as you continuingly rub the soft fur of the kitten's head, a smile plastered on your face at the adorable sight.

maybe you can take it in for just one night, or at least until you can find another shelter.

"i'll be taking you now, kitty. hold tight," you assure, lifting the small animal with the utmost care into your arms, surprised by the little resistance it displays.

luckily, you've cleaned your apartment a few days prior so it's easier to find things to set up a makeshift litter box with one of the packages you haven't thrown away and stuffing a bunch of napkins in the middle.

it's too late to run to any stores and you don't have the convenience of cat foods laying around in your cabinets since you've never owned one, so you make a small portion of scrambled eggs for the adorable thing instead, having combed the web to learn regarding the few foods they can have.

you wash up for the meantime to get ready for bed, finding it sniffing the bottom of your couch when you return, unable to help but giggle at such cuteness before picking it back up into your arms and sitting yourself down.

"what should i name you? i mean, if you're gonna be here for a bit, you deserve a name, right?" you smile, immediately attempting to come up with something not generic.

it's a boy, you know that. you checked earlier.

"mochi?" you speak into thin air, shaking your head after. "no. something a little less cute."

"minho? but there's already too many minho's."

you rock the kitten in your arms as you try again, about ready to give up and get some ideas from your phone, when the painting hanging above your small dining table sparks an even better idea.

"san," you say at the same time you look down at the kitten who resonates a small purr in response. "it means mountain. my dad gave me that painting because he hoped it could comfort me in times of hardships."

you glance at the artwork again, a canvas painting of the snowy mountains behind the grassfield full of flowers. your father loves nature and incorporating elements of it. he always says that in the toughest of times, to find the beauty in the things around you--small or big.

that if the mountains are still there, birds are flying, and the sky still hangs above the swaying flowers, everything is gonna be okay because the world keeps moving. so you suppose in some ways, the painting does help.

"yeah, san... that'll work." you stroke the kitten's head one last time, his silent purring ringing against your chest as he snuggles into your arms.

and when you're finally ready for bed, you lay a small blanket on the other side for san to sleep on, singing him a good night before closing your eyes.

--

the invasion of your face wakes you up, your own eyes met with the doe ones of the kitten you took home yesterday as its tiny paws continues to press at your skin.

"good morning, kitty," you greet, giving him a few gentle strokes on the head before setting him aside to get up.

he fortunately woke you a good few minutes before your alarm so you take the time to run to the nearest convenience store to get a few kitten foods--that you'll take the time in between classes and work to get some more later.

you make sure he has everything he needs before you leave for classes, reminding yourself to bring it up to yeri since she seems to know just about everything and what your next step should be.

"you sure he didn't happen to wander away from his mother?" yeri says across from you, her chin resting on her hand as her head tilts, the headband on her hair so perfectly placed.

"i don't think so, but i'll keep in mind for tonight. keep a lookout."

she nods. "yeah, and if not then call the animal shelter for sure."

she pauses momentarily before going on, "have you given him a name?"

"yes. san," you tell her with such excitement that she hasn't seen in a while. the last time she saw you this happy was when you found out yunho was gonna be going to dinner with your friend group.

"san..." she repeats after you, "well that's a unique name."

"oh, right." you sit up from where you were leaning, turning on your phone. "i took a couple pictures of him. are you able to tell what kind of breed he is?"

she squints her eyes, slouching slightly forward before falling into awe at the few pictures you managed to snap of the kitten just right before you hopped into the shower.

"awww. but you know, he looks weirdly clean for a potentially stray cat."

"that's true," you agree, just grasping the fact yourself. "you don't think it ran away?"

yeri shrugs. "best to just call the shelter and let them take things from there. but to answer your initial question, i think it's a persian."

"ooh..." you hum, intrigued, though absolutely clueless regarding anything else but it's good to know more about the animal you took in.

"by the way," yeri not so subtly brings up, "are you still coming to see yunho's performance on tuesday?"

just hearing his name already making your cheeks glow a soft pink, yeri always has to be considerate of the time and place when mentioning him.

"i don't know," you answer, when in all honesty you really really want to. but it's just so anticlimactic when he didn't invite you himself. "it'd be weird if i just showed up."

your crush on jeong yunho started the day you sat in the seat next to him of your foreign language class, having pulled yourself into that corner (literally) with no one else but a choice between talking to him or the wall to your left.

he had looked so intimidating at first, too tall and broodingly handsome, you were a little afraid he was gonna be stuck-up. but you couldn't be more wrong when he finally spoke to you for the first time, kindly and too curiously wanting to know his awkward seatmate.

that was when you found out he's a dance major and his commitment to the art only made your admiration grow. you've never met someone with so much passion and fire in their eyes before.

he made you look forward to the class despite not even liking the professor that much, all because you loved the small talk you'd have with him every other day.

that was last semester. now, you only see him occasionally through mutual friends--and even mutual might be pushing it a bit considering they're really only yeri's friends.

"so? he'd appreciate it still. trust me."

"i'll have to think about it."

you get more kitten foods on the way home, usually taking the two hours to either study or finish assignments (sometimes a nap) before having to rush to work, but you want to spend some time with your newfound temporary pet because you'll be stuck at work for the next 8 hours.

you open the front door slowly just in case it happened to wander nearby, not at all expecting that the sight in front of you will have your heart thrumming in anxiety.

because your apartment is so small, you can practically see almost everything from this angle--the vase that sat on your coffee table now shattered on the floor and there's a light coming from the kitchen.

keeping the door opened just in case whoever or whatever that did this is still in here, you follow the light, doing exactly what a stupid character in a horror movie would and calling out, "hello?"

your survival instincts are telling you 'no', but your curiosity are telling you to keep walking, seeing the source of the light is from your fridge that's parted all the way.

any moment now, you almost expect for someone in a mask and dark clothings to come out of hiding and hold you hostage, until...

"san!"

you run to the bedroom so fast, afraid that they might have taken your little kitty or done something to it, when you trip on what feels like a pair of legs--yes, legs--the second you open the door to the room.

everything already feels like a very vivid dream with the possibility that someone has broken into your apartment, and now you're staring right into very human-like eyes when you live alone.

"ahhh!" you scream at the top of your lung, hitting this man's chest that you've landed on--your panicked reaction making him do the same in response as his much deeper pitched voice mix with yours.

"who the fuck are you and why are you in my house!" you don't stop hitting until suddenly, he manages to grab ahold of both your arms with quite the ease, blinking at you with such innocence unfitting for the scenario.

"san," he mumbles, his speaking voice much softer and mellow to your surprise. "san."

you can only blink in return before creasing your brows confusingly. "huh?"

"meow." he moves one of your arms toward his head, settling your hand on his hair and continues to motion it up and down, until it hits you what he might be trying to do.

relaxing your hand to slowly brush at it following his lead, the smile he sends you after just more so confirms it.

you don't wanna sound crazy, but you think this man you're currently laying on top of with his bare naked chest out might be your cat.

[pinkpurplesunrises]

Letters to No One - Chapter 5: The Almost Moment

Pairing: Alexia Putellas x Reader (wlw).

Theme: Ghostwriter x Athlete | Slow Burn | Angst | Emotional Intimacy | Happy Ending.

POV: 2nd person (you), emotion ally immersive.

Setting: Barcelona, Present Day.

Previous chapters: chapter 1, chapter 2, chapter 3, chapter 4

ACT: II

Writer's note: This is a scheduled upload. I hope you like where this series is going. Please let me know your thoughts!

It starts with thunder.

The kind that rolls low and steady like something ancient waking from sleep. Rain drums softly against the balcony glass. The city outside turning silver and blurred.

You’re sitting on the floor of Alexia’s living room again. Backs to the couch. A low lamp casting warm light between you. Notes are spread everywhere... old game footage, interview transcripts, a mess of your handwriting trailing across half-crumpled pages. She hates the chaos. You can tell. But she hasn’t said a word about it tonight.

Instead, she’s barefoot and distracted. Sipping slowly from a glass of Rioja while you argue with yourself over whether to keep a certain paragraph in.

You’ve been here for hours. The clock passed midnight quietly, but neither of you moved.

Outside: the storm.

Inside: the slow burn.

She’s wearing a hoodie that doesn’t quite cover the curve of one shoulder. Hair pulled up in a knot that’s threatening to fall. Her skin glows in the low light and you catch yourself glancing too long. Too often.

You clear your throat. Trying to focus. “So, this quote here...”

She turns her head toward you. Not fast, just curious.

And a single strand of hair falls across her face. Catching against the corner of her mouth.

You reach out before you think.

Just a small, automatic motion. Gentle. Unthinking. To brush it away.

Your fingers touch her cheek. Soft and unhurried. You tuck the hair behind her ear and pause there.

The silence shifts.

Suddenly, the air is full of it. Not tension exactly. But something close to it. Like the inhale before thunderclap. Like standing barefoot on the edge of something you know you’re not supposed to fall into.

She doesn’t move.

And you don’t pull your hand away.

She’s looking at you now. Really looking. Her breath shallow. Her lips parted. Her eyes darker than you’ve ever seen them.

You’re so close.

A single tilt forward and it would happen.

A single second of recklessness.

A single choice.

Your fingers twitch slightly against her skin.

And then... She whispers:

“Don’t.”

It’s not harsh. It’s not a warning. It’s just... small. Fractured.

Like it’s costing her something to say it.

You blink.

She closes her eyes. Inhales once. Sharp and quick. Aand shifts her weight. Gently pulling back just enough to break the moment.

You lower your hand.

There’s a strange heat still radiating between you.

You both stare ahead now. Like if you don’t acknowledge it, it might disappear. The storm outside deepens. Wind catching against the balcony like fingers scraping the glass.

You want to say something. But what?

“Sorry” feels wrong.

“I wasn’t going to” feels like a lie.

“You wanted to, too.” feels like a betrayal.

Instead, you say nothing.

She gets up first. Moving toward the kitchen with her glass.

You stay where you are. Jaw tight. Heart ringing in your ears.

From the kitchen, she says softly, “We should finish the transcript tomorrow.”

You nod. Even though she can’t see it. “Yeah. Okay.”

When she returns, the moment has passed. But the feeling hasn’t.

That night, your journal entry is shorter than usual.

I reached for her without thinking. She stopped me without anger. But also without hesitation.There’s something breaking open between us and neither of us is ready for what’s inside. I didn’t kiss her. I don’t think that matters anymore.

You don’t sleep much.

But you dream of the pause between breath and touch.

[jellysmosh]

A Gentleman's Agreement

Summary: When you and Spencer were scheduled to film a Trivial Pursuit: Try Not To Laugh video together, you never stood a chance. To win the video, that is.

Pairing: Spencer Agnew x M!Reader

Tags: Fluff, sexual innuendos and references as is the standard for a gentlemen video

Word count: 1.9k

Note: Based on this request from anon for gentleman Spencer and male reader! Utilising this chance to say happy pride month to my fellow LGBTQ-ers, love y’all!

☆

Participating in a gentleman shoot was not for the faint of heart. You had to think quick, the back and forth between the cast was razor sharp and fast enough to cause whiplash. On top of all that, you had to layer on a thick, old-timey English accent, as posh as they come.

You took a deep breath and placed the fake cigarette between your lips. This video was going to be a bit different. The gentlemen videos had grown in size as of late, the number of top hats purchased by the company increasing. The Smosh Games team had decided to change it up a bit and, apparently pitched by Spencer, they had you sit across from him for a Trivial Pursuit: Try Not To Laugh style video, just the two of you. Spencer asking that you join him for this video didn’t do much to stop both your ego and your secret little crush on him from growing. You couldn't help but let a smile take over your whole face when you saw the call sheet that morning.

You couldn’t deny you were a bit nervous. Usually you were more excited for games videos but with the gentleman suit and hat on, Spencer sat right by you, and mind racing to get into character, the pressure was on.

Spencer finished off his discussion with Alex and turned to you, adjusting the top hat perched on his curly head of hair. “You ready?”

When his eyes caught yours, the contact held longer than necessary, you weren’t sure if you imagined the spark in the air between you. Probably just pre-shoot jitters. You barely had enough time to nod before the clapper sounded, and you were rolling.

“I say”, you took a fake puff of your prop cigarette, accent nice and crispy after your impromptu vocal warmups seconds before coming to set. “It appears Sir Scotty Pippin has joined me yet again for a late night rendezvous, although we are significantly more clothed this time, wouldn’t you say, Pippin?”

Spencer kept his lips sealed, hand holding his cigarette paused halfway to his mouth. You could just see the whisper of a smile threaten to push its way out. His eyes were trained on yours, as if to say ‘really?’

“Well, yes, of course, my good sir”, he replied in his rough gentleman accent, “though, I cannot guarantee it will remain this modest for long. I hear homosexuality is the new frontier.”

You couldn’t help but burst into laughter at that. You already knew you were screwed from the moment you sat in the chair, hell, probably from the moment you were told this video was going to happen really. But that was probably a Trivial Pursuit TNTL record for fastest laugh.

You two fell into a rhythm relatively fast, you felt like it was a pretty even game. Every time he got you, you got him back soon after. Whenever you donned the gentleman costume, you loved to scandalise the other gentlemen in an effort to make them laugh so hard they were gasping.

“Pink me, Pippin”, you winked, tipping your hat at him by the brim.

Spencer dramatically raised his brows at you, grabbing the cigarette from his mouth, “perhaps when the cameras are done rolling, sir. I’m afraid my boner is a tad camera shy.”

You managed to push down the laugh that almost spilled out of you, ignoring the warmth creeping up your neck from your chest. Eyeing him expectantly as he drew a question card, you prepared yourself to answer him quickly.

“Pete Best was the original drummer of which band?” He placed his cigarette back in his mouth as he flipped the card over to read the answer.

“Well, that would be this ass, sir”, you quipped, both hands gesturing down to your nether regions.

Spencer almost spat out his cigarette as he abruptly laughed, caught off guard. You could have sworn his cheeks were dusted with a hint of pink as well.

“Just… smacking away like a wildebeest”, you grinned smugly as he tried to compose himself. For a second, you saw Spencer as himself laughing before he got back into character as Scotty Pippin.

Both of you bantered back and forth, and you had to admit you felt a satisfied flip in your stomach every time you made Spencer lose his composure, the laughs from the rest of the room were just cherries on top.

“Blue me, my good sir”, Spencer used his cigarette to point at you before putting it back in his mouth.

“Indeed, I did”, you nodded, your own cigarette wobbling around as you grabbed a card. Spencer laughed again, and you swore he was not so easily broken in other TNTL videos. “And I do believe you left me a glowing review.”

“Well, of course”, he turned his attention to the crew members in the room, “I assure you all, his fellatio skills are unmatched!”

That got you, and you were holding your sides as you laughed along with the other people in the room. You tried to catch your breath as you retrieved your prop cigarette from where it had fallen on the table.

You took a breath and read out the blue question on the card, “which was built first: The Eiffel Tower or the Panama Canal?”

You braced yourself for whatever bullshit Spencer was about to spew.

“You and I participated in an Eiffel Tower, I do recall”, he immediately shot back, “yes, yes, with that lovely call girl, and we passionately made out with each other as well if my memory serves me… with tongue!” While you had expected him to say something wild, as was par for the course for Scotty Pippin, you were still left giggling like an idiot, face in hands to cover your reddened cheeks.

When you retracted your hands, you caught Spencer’s gaze lingering on you a bit too long. His smile was not as smug as it usually would be, much softer, more himself. You felt your smile falter, there was no chance the cameras weren’t picking up how red your face had become, and that combined with the way he was looking at you, it all made your heart beat ten times faster.

“Guys? Hello?” Alex’s confused voice rang out over the set, which you only just realised had gone oddly silent. “Why’d you stop?”

You and Spencer blinked at each other, seeming to snap out of it. Neither of you had realised that you were wordlessly staring at each other for way too long while the cameras were rolling.

“I say, we are simply just two gentlemen enjoying the warmth of each other’s company”, Spencer swooped in to save the day, back in character. Meanwhile, you did your best to look indignant as well.

“Yes!” You backed him up, puffing out your chest.

“And if something happens, then something happens!”

“Ye- what?” You looked at him, puzzled, as laughter erupted in the room again.

“So be it!”

“Now, wait a moment”, you held a hand up in playful bewilderment, holding in your laughter, but he wasn’t done.

“What’s a bit of loving between two men? I believe that’s the manliest thing one can do”, he winked at you and this time you couldn’t hold in your laughter. You've known him for quite a while now and he still surprised you with how easily he could make you laugh. Maybe he chose you for this video because he knew he would win.

The rest of the video continued without a break in banter. You believed this may be the video you had laughed the most in, and probably the video your heart was beating the fastest throughout. You had no idea how other cast members managed to do videos alone with him. He was so charming, so hilarious, so Spencer, even when he was playing a crude gentleman. It came as no surprise when it was announced that Spencer won.

Once filming was done, Alex was giving some very brief notes before dismissing you.

“You guys laugh a little too easily at each other’s jokes”, he narrowed his eyes at you for a second. You sheepishly took off your top hat to ruffle your hair to get back to normal, hoping it also covered the fact that you were blushing.

“I knew we would make a good pair”, Spencer leaned over to nudge your arm as Alex walked away. Your heart jumped into your throat as you glanced over, he was smiling mischievously, like you were kids sharing a secret.

“Yeah”, you almost whispered before clearing your throat and speaking up, “yeah, that was a lot of fun, man.”

You quickly left the set after that, mumbling something about preparing for the next video. Your heart hammered in your chest and you felt like you were going to be sick. Maybe this was more than a little crush.

☆

You left wardrobe in your normal clothes, sighing in relief to no longer have the stuffy collar of the white gentleman shirt choking you. You realised your T-shirt was not pulled down all the way properly and you heard someone clear their throat behind you as you yanked it down. You spun around to see Spencer, still in his Scotty Pippin costume, clearly heading into wardrobe as you were leaving.

“Y/N, hey!”, he grinned at you crookedly, tucking his top hat under his arm.

“Hello again”, you tried not to feel shy, he had such a weird effect on you no other person did.

“So, uh, did you enjoy the shoot?” Spencer looked around, seemingly avoiding eye contact, “as you know, I was the one that pitched it, so I would really appreciate your, like, feedback.”

“Yeah!” You replied a little too fast and a little too loud, you rubbed the back of your neck, embarrassed, “yeah, it was a lot of fun.”

He glanced back at you and there it was again, the little spark between you as you stood there, eyes locked without saying a word.

“I agree, by the way”, you had lowered your voice, not wanting anyone else to hear, wanting this moment to be just for you two, “that we make a good pair.”

He chuckled, his cheeks flushing a similar shade of pink as yours.

“We do”, he put one hand in his jeans pocket, hiding his restlessness, “that’s why I wanted to ask if you wanted to get dinner sometime, with me, with just me, I mean. Like, as a date, not as bros. Obviously. I don’t know why I said that.”

You chuckled as well when he stumbled over his words.

“I’m fucking this up”, he groaned, turning his body away from you as he tilted his head back, staring at the ceiling. You could see his ears reddening quickly.

“No, you’re not”, you gently rested your hand on his shoulder to turn him back toward you. You felt your breath hitch a bit when you saw his expression, cheeks red and eyes vulnerable in a way that made you want to hug him tight. “I would love to.”

You leaned in and pressed an apprehensive kiss to his cheek. You heard him sigh, content, and his hand came out of his pocket to wrap an arm around you. That made you smile, heart thumping and chest warm. Your hand came up to hold his face as you kissed his cheek again for a half-beat longer. You pulled back to look at him, a big dumb grin on your face.

“Best video idea I ever pitched”, he murmured for only you to hear as he pulled you in again.

☆

Note: This was an attempt at a shorter fic, since I want to take more requests! I hope you guys still like it, please tell me what you think. <3

♡ masterlist

[anonf1writer]

“but please shut up” — ln4

summary: from the SINGLE PARENT UNIVERSE and based on THIS request, I present to you 2k words about the moment Yn first said the three words to Lando, and then told him to shut up (or something like that). (I am reposting this because I didn’t like the first version, so... yeah. no more yn now)

──────────────────

You and Lando had been dating for no longer than six months when the words finally slipped out of your mouth. 

It was a Saturday morning. A sunny one, to be precise. One of those rare occasions that normally meant peeling Olivia away from the TV and getting her ready for a picnic at the park, or for riding a bike, or for doing just any activity that allowed you to soak the sun as much as possible. 

On that particular Saturday morning, though, the clear sky wasn’t the only rare thing happening in London.

For starters, you weren’t at your place, but at Lando’s apartment. Something that had never happened before. Not in the morning, at least. Not as a result of spending the night there. 

Then, of course, because you weren’t at your own place, there was also the fact that Olivia wasn’t there, with you. Instead, your sister had taken her to Bristol so she could spend a fun weekend with her cousins. And so you and Lando could have some time alone. 

So, yeah, of course—things were different that morning. 

And yes, maybe you could have sensed that something else would happen, something you didn’t see coming because it also normally never happened. 

But you didn’t.

All you did was wake up wrapped in Lando’s arms, kiss him good morning, and drag yourself out of bed. On your way across the bedroom, you grabbed one of his hoodies and put it on. Warm, oversized, and smelling like him. Exactly how you liked it. 

Once you made it to the kitchen, the space opened into sunlight and sleek surfaces. Fancy. Clean. Organized. Looking not even one bit like the messy tiny home you owned. With no crayons forgotten on the table, no mermaids and unicorns in the mugs and cups and plates, no colorful drawings stuck to the fridge. And yet just as comfortable and cozy in its own Lando Norris’ way. 

It made you smile, for some reason. A smile that you kept on your face while trying to decide what to make for breakfast, and that only grew bigger when Lando finally joined you in, wrapping his arms around your waist and resting his chin on your shoulder while you cracked four eggs into a small bowl. 

“Hmm,” he murmured, his morning voice sending chills down through your spine. “You look really nice in my kitchen… Wearing my clothes… Smelling like me…”

You tilted your head slightly, leaning into his curls as he kissed your neck and just settled there, keeping up with your movements—with the whisking of the eggs and the soft clink of the fork echoing in that quiet morning. 

You could tell Lando was happy with that setting, with spending the morning together after also having spent the night together. Something you couldn’t really do very often, considering you still weren’t ready to add him into Olivia’s routine like that. Not without making sure—making fully, fully sure—that this wasn’t just a temporary thing for him. That he was staying in for good, and that he was actually willing to have a role not just in your life, but also in your daughter’s life. 

Which, to be honest, was becoming more and more easy to see as time went by. 

Like when he stepped away to grab the milk from the fridge and very casually asked, “Talked to Liv yet?”

“Not yet,” you said, then waited until he had splashed a bit of the milk into the small bowl to keep going. “Told my sister I’d give them a call after breakfast.” 

You sprinkled in a pinch of salt and went back to whisking, meanwhile Lando got himself busy by grabbing a pan and dropping a knob of butter into it. 

“I hope she’s having fun,” he said, distracted as he switched on the hob and placed the pan above the humming heat. “Y’know, I was thinking about what it’d be like to take her to the beach.” 

You paused. 

You paused and stared at the bowl. Right in front of you. 

And Lando laughed. 

And the butter sizzled gently. 

And then the smell of it filled the space. 

Warm. Comforting. 

“Sandcastle chaos, for sure,” he added.

Still chuckling. 

Still nonchalant. 

As if mentioning he had been thinking about your daughter and about how it would be to spend time with her didn’t bring this funny feeling to your chest. As if it wasn’t a big deal. As if it was normal. 

You swallowed.

To be fair, when it came to Lando, it actually wasn’t weird. Because he did that a lot—dropping how much he cared in the most subtle, random ways. In the little things. 

But this morning, for some reason, it seemed to happen more than usual. 

He did it again, for instance, as you were sitting around the small table and having breakfast. As he was telling you about these new clothes he had bought online. Casually, randomly. Just by asking, “Purple’s her favourite, right?” 

To which you furrowed her brows and mumbled a simple, “huh?” 

“Liv’s.” He scraped the fork against his plate, gathering the scrambled eggs, and shrugged. “I saw these really cute tiny trainers that made me think of her.” He scooped up the food and shoved it inside his mouth. But he didn’t stop, he just chewed as he talked, muffling the words. “They were… Mmph… Puh’pul… Yeah?… Puh’pul’s her fav’rite… Innit?”

 “I—Yeah. Purple’s her favourite color, yeah.”

He smiled, swallowed and nodded, all proud of himself. 

“I knew it.” He took a sip of coffee, then focused on the beans still left on his plate. “Didn’t get them though…” He shoved the fork back into his mouth. Words mumbled as he chewed again. “Didn’know’er size, so… Oh!” He swallowed and shuffled on his seat. “Shit.” He coughed, choking a little around the food that had gone down his throat. “Um… Just remembered… Did I tell you about this… About this new idea we had for the next collection? I didn’t, did I?” 

“Um… I don’t think so, no…”

“Right. Yeah. So, listen to this…” 

And so he rambled about something else. 

And you listened. 

Trying to absorb as much as possible. Trying to understand. Trying to make sense. 

But then, as you were putting the dishes in the sink and talking about the next few weekends and how busy his schedule would be, he did it again. 

He brought her up again.

“I’ll try to come home as much as I can,” he said, “but y’know, if you ever want to come to a race one day, I’d love to have you there. Not just you, but Liv, too. Like, not now, of course, but later, when you’re ready. I’d like that.” 

And like a cherry on top, while you had your hands submerged in warm soapy water, he asked, “Hey, is it weird if I frame that little drawing Liv made the other day?”

You stopped.

And blinked at the plate you had in your hands. 

“The one she said was for good luck?” Lando added, pacing in the kitchen. Not in a nervous way, but in that very particular excited version of him. Full of caffeine. Hair sticking up in three different directions. Hands moving along with his words. Babbling. 

Always babbling.

“Or maybe not frame it but put it on the fridge or… I don’t know… Something. Just… Somewhere I can always see it… Y’know? Would that be weird?” 

You blinked again.

“Because I won’t if it’s weird… Don’t want to make it weird…”

“Lando…” you mumbled, eyes still fixed on the dish in your hand. 

“I mean I don’t know what the protocol is here… I know you said you wanted to take things slow when it comes to her, and I totally get it… I mean you know way better than I do, so I trust your judgment… It’s just that she’s so great, y’know? And that drawing is so cute. It’s been back and forth with me for weeks now, but I wanted to check with you because I—”

“For the love of God!” You dropped the sponge and the plate and turned around, water dripping from your fingers as you glared at him. “Lando, I swear I love you so much, but can you just please shut the fuck up for a moment?”

Lando stopped. 

No. Lando froze.

Mid-step. 

Not even looking at you.

Just.. Hand reaching into the cabinet. Eyes fixed ahead. Blinking to the clean tableware. 

And you didn’t even notice, so you just sighed. Loudly. Dropping your shoulders. Grabbing a tea towel to wipe your hands. And then trying again.

“Sorry. I don’t mean like, shut the fuck up, but just… Y’know, give me a minute to think? You’re like… Nonstop right now! Just going on and on and on about Livie and it’s just—”

“What did you just say?”

You looked at him.

He was still facing away, still frozen on the spot.

“That you’re going on and on about—” 

“No. Not that.” He dropped his arms to his sides and turned towards you. “Before.”

You frowned, searching inside your head for whatever you could’ve said that made him look like that right now—pale, shocked, terrified. On the verge of freaking out.

“I don’t know. What did I—”

“Love me,” Lando murmured. “You said you love me.”

“What?”

“You said,” —he closed his eyes and took a deep breath, as if gathering the strength to say the words— “Lando I love you so much but can you please shut the fuck up.”

“Oh.”

“That’s what you said. You said you love me.”

“Shit. Lan…”

You stepped forward. 

And he stepped backward. 

“Nuh-uh.” He raised one finger, pointing it at you. “Nope. Stay there.”

Your lips tugged up.

“Babe… C’mon.”

“You love me.”

“Mhmm…”

Lando dropped his arm.

Then opened his mouth, then closed it again. 

And then he looked away, dropping his posture like he had just been punched in the stomach.

“Holy shit,” he said. “I didn’t—I wasn’t—wow. Wow. Ok. Okay. Yeah. That’s—That’s just… Ok. I mean, did you—You really meant that?”

At that, you laughed. 

“Lando…” You dropped the tea towel on the counter and took a step forward, a tiny one. Just to make sure you could. That he wouldn’t run off. “Baby. Just breathe, okay?”

“I am breathing.”

“You’re also sweating.”

“I’m not—” He raised one hand, touching the back of his neck. And then he shook his head. “Maybe, who cares. That’s not the point.”

“Right… Then what’s the point?” you tried, softly this time. Stepping just a bit closer.

“That you love me.”

“Okay.” Standing in front of him, you placed your hands on his chest and nodded. “So? You’ll get used to it.”

Lando snorted and looked at you, his own hands instantly finding your waist. Almost involuntarily. As if they belonged there. As if it was the only natural reaction when having you so close to him. 

“You’re just… You think this is funny?”

“A little, yeah.” 

“I’m freaking out here.”

“I know. I know you would. That’s why I’ve been holding myself from saying it out loud.” 

He pulled you closer, and yet also flinched. Chin and head jerking back slightly while he made sure your body was as close as possible to his. “Why would you ever do that?”

“Why?!” You laughed and slid your hands up his chest, then up his shoulders and neck, until you were able to link your fingers through the short curls on the back of his head. “Did you see your reaction just now?”

“So? Just because I’m weird and freak out like this sometimes doesn’t mean that I… Y’know… That I don’t… I mean I just…”

“I know.” You nodded and launched yourself forward, kissing his cheek before landing back on your feet. “I know you do, babe. So whenever you’re ready. That’s okay.”

He sighed and leaned down, pressing his forehead against yours. 

“Bloody hell I do. But now I’m gonna wait until you least expect it. Freak the hell out of you, too.”

You laughed and arched forward, barely lifting off your heels as you reached for a kiss.

Lando reacted quickly, closing his eyes and kissing you back.

And then, around his lips, you murmured, “Bring it on, babe. I dare you.” 

──────────────────

[sanotymanjiro]

𝐦𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐡𝐢𝐥𝐝 ꨄ︎

𝙨𝙖𝙣𝙤 𝙢𝙖𝙣𝙟𝙞𝙧𝙤

𝙤𝙣𝙚 𝙨𝙝𝙤𝙩

fluff, soft, set in whatever timeline the reader wants, secret crush; mikey on reader, mild swearing

⚽ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈

mikey is a manchild. he is your best friend and soulmate, the boy you grew up with and the boy who has protected you, teased you, cared for you but also been a pain in your ass forcing you to spend countless nights fetching him some dorayaki dead at night because he couldn't sleep. you knock as quietly as you can covey your annoyance without waking the entire sano household up and the door instantly swings open revealing the golden haired boy with a cheeky grin plastered on his face. you fight the urge to roll your eyes and shove the bag his way ready to turn away until his hand catches your wrist.

mikey: waittt!

y/n, practically hissing: what?!

mikey, with a pleading grin: movie night please please pleaseeee?

y/n: are you mad?! u may skip school but i very much still have an 8 to 3 schedule manjiro! i'm getting no sleep at this rate!

mikey, begging: please! fine fine fine! ill...ill let you do my hair...?

and thats how you ended up in his room snuggled together with an assortment of coloured hair ties and accessories in your lap with spirited away rolling in the back at a low volume. you brush his golden locks using your portable hairbrush smiling to yourself as you lean down to sniff it since it smells like your favourite shampoo when you were a child, baby johnson's. you had teased mikey for using it at his big age of 15 but every time he would pout and explain how it was the only thing that isn't damaging and even try to force you to use it just to prove his point, he had a serious fear of going bald in the future and you once caught him trying to generate himself as a bald on man on ai which had you dying of laughter while he whined in embarrassment.

mikey: owww- hss- ow! slow down y/n!!

y/n: stop being a baby i'm done, i'm done...

after untangling the knots in his hair you split it down the middle and gather it into two small pon-pons before sliding a baby blue hair tie with a bow attached to hold them in place, smiling to yourself at how cute it looked while applying some white clips to his bangs.

𝐦𝐚𝐧𝐣𝐢𝐫𝐨 𝐩𝐨𝐯:

mikey pretended to watch the movie but the mirror on his closet opposite him reflecting your joyful face wouldn't let him. his fingers fidgeted with the covers of his bed which you had bought him as a gift claiming his room was too plain and mature, his eyes darting to the gentle curve of your jaw in the warm light flowing from the bedside lamp. manjiro had always found you cute, sure you were bratty, nagging, extremely stubborn and persistent and maybe sometimes annoying but your cuteness won all of that ten times over, and mikey was one of the few to notice it. the way you tilt your head to check the sides of his hair, the way your tongue would peek out when you were focused, the soothing motion of your fingers as they brushed his hair over and over thanks to your perfectionist nature, the light of satisfaction that would swirl in your eyes when you were finally pleased with the result; two cute ponytail sort pon-pons with baby blue bows, white clips and a small butterfly clip right on the top of his hair.

mikey couldn't understand why you were so proud of making him look like a walking clown but that didn't matter because he got to see your smile, he got to see you happy and that mattered most of all. before he even notices theres a gentle smile etched onto his lips like second nature and the movie is forgotten completely.

it hurt like hell whenever you would tug too hard at his locks or brush through a knot but if he could watch you like this without you noticing that was all he could ever want not because he didn't want to confess, but because he wanted to make sure that when he does, he'll no longer be the manchild he is now, but the reliable man of your dreams.

2025 @sanotymanjiro

tags (for everyone who enjoyed bubble baths): @dolledupformanjiro | @tetsuyuuuuuuu | @artsjiwoo | @mikeysgf1 | @natsumis-stuff | @katsukisat0 | @dancingnewcat | @whyme287 | @destinyfleur | @banana-revenge | @bebacebe | @mikeys-therapy | @peensas | @afterunigoths | @skr1mps | @beetusbritt | @dollrndo | @yourbabydolllll | @cherry-blossom5 | and anyone else!

[pillow-coded]

To Have and To Hold — Chapter 9

Summary: A sunny morning, a planetarium trip, and a picture-perfect afternoon. Everything feels almost too good to be true. But when an innocent comment catches Spencer off guard, the day takes an unexpected turn. Couple: Spencer Reid/Fem!Reader Category: Slow Burn Series (NSFW, 18+) Content Warning: Reader overthinking, a microscopic amount of angst towards the end Word Count: 6.4k

Series Masterlist

The sunlight woke me before the alarm did — sharp and golden across the floorboards, the kind of light that makes everything feel warmer than it probably is. But maybe everything just felt warmer because of how good things were going.

I spent the night over at Y/N’s last weekend. Maddie had fallen asleep in my arms, tiny fingers curled into my sleeve like she was holding onto a dream. The next morning, she’d drawn a picture of the three of us — stick figures with tangled smiles, all holding hands. Y/N saved the fluffiest pancake for me. Just set it on a little plate like it was obvious. Like I was expected to stay for breakfast.

I hadn’t had a nightmare in nearly a week. I wasn’t sure if that meant anything, but… I’d started sleeping with one of Maddie’s drawings pinned to the wall. Maybe that was my saving grace. A little paper talisman that reminded me why things felt lighter lately.

The team’s been side-eyeing me more than usual. If they hadn’t been suspicious after I slipped and said Maddie’s name instead of the victim’s name during the Jensen’s case, along with my little meltdown, then my recent cheerfulness definitely gave me away. JJ cornered me in the hallway yesterday and asked if I was “seeing someone.” I panicked and changed the subject — something about ant pheromones, I think.

But I smiled the whole way home, just from thinking… ‘Yes, I’m seeing someone.’

I stretched, blinked at the ceiling for a few seconds, then sat up slowly. It was a late-spring morning, the kind that smelled like wet grass and felt like a second chance.

When I checked my phone, I already had three messages from Y/N:

Y/N: hi :)

Y/N: I don’t want to overwhelm you or anything but Maddie has been up since 6:13

Y/N: she’s fully dressed, packed her purse, and keeps asking if “Spencer’s awake yet” like I have access to your brain

I smiled to myself, thumb hovering over the screen longer than it should’ve before replying with a simple:

Spencer: Just woke up, but I’ll be there in 15

I got ready faster than I thought I could. Just a minute or two — which was far too quickly compared to other times I’ve seen Y/N, where I stood in front of the mirror way too long, obsessing over how my cardigan sat over my button-up, or whether I looked like I was trying too hard.

Regardless, those two minutes of getting ready gave me three extra to spare and still make it to her apartment in the promised fifteen.

So I made some coffee.

By the time I’d poured it into a travel mug, Y/N had sent a photo.

Maddie, standing proudly in a glittery skirt and a sweater with a purple cat patched across the front. Two mismatched bows decorated her pigtails. Her tiny purse — the one she insisted on calling her “field bag” — was slung over her shoulder. I knew without even opening it that her little “stars notebook” was tucked safely inside, along with that purple glitter pen she guards like her life depends on it.

She was grinning like she’d just won Little Miss Universe.

I forced myself to set the phone down. I grabbed my bag, locked the door behind me, and slid into the driver’s seat — coffee safely in my travel mug, still hot.

I still have ten minutes to get there, and maybe spare an extra minute.

The drive wasn’t long, but the silence gave my thoughts too much room. I took a sip of coffee at a stoplight, trying to keep my mind still, but it never really worked.

It was strange — how natural it felt now. How familiar the route to their apartment had become. Like muscle memory.

I’d memorized the road since the first time I drove there. The house with the overflowing flower garden. The small kindergarten tucked at the corner of the block, right at the intersection where I turn right. The maple trees lined up neatly in front of her building, the leaves just starting to blush toward summer.

With every drive, I start to feel fonder of it all — the road, the houses, the crooked bus stops, even the cracks in the sidewalk. They’re markers now. Little signs that I’m getting closer to them.

Closer to her.

I pull into Y/N’s visitor spot. She gave me the pass last week— It was laminated and labeled — She told me to keep it, since I’ve been coming over so often. Like she expected me to keep coming. Like she wanted me to.

And maybe that’s what made my hands shake a little as I turned off the ignition.

Not nerves, but excitement.

I grabbed my coffee and stepped out of the car, the air still cool enough to nip at my collar. The trees rustled above me, and I counted the steps from the parking lot to her front door without meaning to. I always did. Twenty-six and a half. The last one’s a little shorter because the sidewalk dips just before the porch.

I used to hesitate here. The first few times, I’d stand at the edge of the welcome mat, rehearsing what I’d say. Trying to find the right tone, the right words, the version of myself that felt safest to offer.

Now I don’t rehearse. I just knock.

Because she always opens the door like she’s expecting me.

Because Maddie always squeals when she sees me — like I’m not a visitor, but someone who was meant to arrive.

Because this place — this life I only just started to tiptoe into — doesn’t feel like borrowed time anymore.

It’s starting to feel real.

And that… that’s the scariest, and best, part of all of it.

“Wow, you actually made it in fifteen minutes.”

Y/N’s voice hit me first — amused, teasing, the kind of dry warmth that always makes my stomach twist in the gentlest way. She was leaning against the doorframe, hair pulled back loosely, one hand on the knob and the other braced against the edge like she hadn’t just opened the door, but welcomed it. Welcomed me.

“Spencer!!!!”

Maddie was already charging at me before I could answer. Tiny shoes tapping against the floor, pigtails bouncing with each step. She wrapped herself around my leg like a very sparkly, very enthusiastic barnacle.

“You’re here! You’re here! You’re here!”

I laughed, steadying my coffee so I didn’t spill it all over her glittery skirt. “I told you I’d be here.”

“Mommy said you might still be brushing your hair.”

Y/N gave me a look over Maddie’s head — clearly not sorry.

I shrugged. “I considered it.”

“Well,” she said, pushing the door open wider, “you still look very brushed. Come in. She’s been waiting at the window like a cat.”

I stepped inside, careful not to trip over Maddie, who was now spinning in tight circles like she needed to release excess joy from her limbs. Y/N closed the door behind me with her foot, already halfway back toward the kitchen, muttering something about “goldfish crackers and fruit pouches.”

She was in motion — efficient, focused, a little chaotic in that way she always got when she wanted things to go perfectly.

“There’s still some breakfast on the counter, Spence. Feel free to grab some.”

“Oh, I’m good,” I said, lifting my travel mug. “I made myself some coffee.”

Y/N turned from the kitchen just long enough to give me a look — not annoyed, just deeply unimpressed. “You didn’t eat, did you.”

I hesitated. “…No.”

She sighed, grabbed a piece of toast from the counter, and handed it to me like a doctor prescribing medication. “You need to eat. Coffee doesn’t count as breakfast.”

I took the toast. “It’s… efficient.”

“It’s not,” she said, already back to zipping up Maddie’s backpack. “It’s a shortcut to passing out in a planetarium’s lobby.”

Before I could come up with a defense, Maddie darted into the room, swinging her bag behind her like a superhero cape, the zipper half-undone and a stuffed dinosaur hanging out the side.

“Mommy packed the purple gummies,” she whispered to me like it was top secret. “And two juice boxes. The good ones.”

I nodded seriously. “Sounds like you’re well-prepared.”

Her bag sat open on the counter. She zipped it, unzipped it again. Added a water bottle. Swapped one snack pack for another. Then checked it again. I watched her take out a tiny travel-sized sunscreen, hesitate, and put it back in.

“I know we’re going to be indoors mostly,” she said, more to herself than to me, “but there’s a courtyard, and she’ll ask to run around. I just know it.”

“She’ll probably demand us to play tag,” I offered.

Y/N looked up at me and smiled — flustered, fond, flushed. “Exactly.”

She double-checked the wet wipes, the napkins, the bandaids. Paused. Then checked again.

I didn’t say anything. I knew this part wasn’t about the snacks or the wipes or even the backup hair ties. It was about feeling ready. Feeling in control of a day she desperately wanted to go right.

She caught me watching and raised an eyebrow. “Don’t look at me like I’m going crazy. You deep cleaned your apartment before our tea night.”

I held up my hands in surrender, smiling into my coffee. “Fair.”

“Ready to go?”

I nodded, tightening the lid on my coffee. “Yeah. You?”

She let out a breath — not frustrated, just one of those quiet exhales that meant she was trying to ground herself. “I think so.”

Her eyes scanned the apartment one last time. She touched the strap of her bag like she wasn’t sure it was secure, then tugged Maddie’s tiny jacket out from the hook by the door.

“Mads, come here!”

“I am here,” Maddie announced, appearing dramatically from behind the couch. She held her Rapunzel doll in one hand and her glitter pen like a dagger in the other.

“Shoes,” Y/N said, pointing. “Both of them. Preferably matching this time.”

“But mommy, I want the pink sparkly one, and the silver one with lights…”

Y/N sighed, already glancing down at Maddie’s feet — two completely different shoes, equally chaotic in energy. She opened her mouth, probably to protest, but then… stopped.

Instead, she knelt down, brushed a curl from Maddie’s cheek, and smiled — soft, tired, full of something I couldn’t name but wanted to memorize.

“Alright,” she said gently, “just this once.”

Maddie lit up like she’d been granted a royal decree. “Yessss,” she whispered, triumphant, and immediately stomped her light-up foot to make her point.

Y/N stood back up and looked at me, shrugging like this is my life, but her smile hadn’t faded. If anything, it was stronger now. A little messier. A little softer.

“Fashion icon,” I murmured.

“You’re enabling her.”

“I’m just respecting her creative vision.”

She rolled her eyes, but there was no heat in it. “Alright. Bag?”

I held it up. “Secured.”

“Maddie, You’re really bringing Rapunzel?”

“She wants to see the stars!” she shouted, already halfway out the door.

Y/N followed with a resigned but affectionate sigh. “Alrighty then… to the car we go.”

We made it down the steps in a not-so-orderly line — Maddie skipping every other stair, Y/N trailing her like a bodyguard with a purse and backup hair tie in hand. I unlocked the car and held the door open while Maddie climbed into her car seat with a surprising amount of coordination.

“Mommy, can we play I Spy while Spencer drives?” she asked, already strapping herself in like this was a full mission briefing.

Y/N gave her a look in the rearview mirror. “Only if we keep the volume at indoor voice levels.”

“I am inside,” Maddie argued, completely missing the point.

I smiled as I buckled in. “You can start. Just give me a second to warm up my deduction skills.”

“Okay, okay…” Maddie squinted out the window like a tiny detective. “I spy with my little eye… something that’s blue!”

“The sky?” Y/N guessed.

“Nope!”

“Your juice box?” I offered.

“Wrong again!”

I glanced in the rearview, then pointed toward the front seat. “Is it the museum flyer in the pocket?”

Maddie squealed. “Yes!!! That was so fast!”

Y/N looked at me like I’d just performed a minor miracle. “How did you even see that?”

“I have very advanced observational skills,” I said, sipping my coffee.

“Uh-huh,” she said, trying not to smile. “Just keep your eyes on the road.”

So I did.

We drove in that easy silence with the occasional interruption of Maddie humming in the backseat between guesses, Y/N leaning her head lightly against the window, sunlight catching in the strands of her hair. I didn’t say much. I didn’t need to.

The city passed by in flashes of spring color. Street signs I didn’t have to read anymore. A left turn I’d already memorized.

By the time we pulled into the planetarium parking lot, Maddie was pressed up against the window like it might disappear if she blinked. Her feet kicked excitedly, mismatched shoes flashing pink and silver like twin beacons of chaos.

“We’re heeere!” she sang. “I see stars! I see rockets! I see a UFO!”

Y/N laughed. “That’s the rooftop observatory, baby.”

I turned off the engine and smiled at the two of them. “It’s a retractable dome — it opens up so the telescope can track celestial objects without obstruction. Some of them are motorized to follow the rotation of the Earth.”

Maddie’s eyes widened like I’d just handed her the moon.

“Can we go in there?”

“Maybe,” Y/N said, glancing at me with a grin. “If our tour guide keeps the facts coming.”

I sipped my coffee. “I haven’t even started.”

“That is so cool,” Maddie whispered.

Y/N turned to me, eyes warm. “See, this is why you’re not allowed to skip these things,” she said, nudging my arm. “We’d miss all the fun facts.”

I felt myself smile—small, but real.

“Let’s go! Let’s go! Let’s goooo!!” Maddie squealed, grabbing both of our hands and yanking with surprising force for someone who barely clears three feet.

Her tiny fingers wrapped around mine, sticky with what I hoped was just juice residue, and I let her drag me forward. Y/N laughed beside me — not the quiet kind, but the full, unguarded kind that made my chest ache in the best way.

We jogged awkwardly behind her, Maddie setting the pace, completely unaware of how fast her little legs were moving.

“She thinks she’s leading a mission,” Y/N panted, half-laughing as we reached the doors.

“She is,” I said. “Operation: Get to the Dome Theatre sky show in record time,”

Y/N giggled. It was a sound I never wanted to forget.

The kind of sound that makes everything else go quiet for a second — like the world stepped aside to make space for just that.

Her eyes met mine, bright and unguarded, and something shifted. Just a flicker. Just enough to make my steps slow down, even as Maddie kept tugging us forward.

I wanted to say something — something clever, maybe, or meaningful. But the moment passed before I could catch it.

“Come on!” Maddie whined, yanking harder on our hands. “We’re gonna miss the rocket show!”

“It’s not a rocket show, sweetheart” Y/N said, breathless from trying not to laugh. “It’s literally about the stars.”

“Well the rocket gets us there!”

“Mads, wait,” she called, chasing after her. “We have to buy the tickets first.”

Maddie stopped with a huff, her sparkly shoes blinking in protest. “But the show’s gonna start!”

“It’s in twenty-five minutes,” Y/N replied, pulling her phone out of her coat pocket. “You’ve got time to bounce in place.”

We reached the counter, and Y/N was already halfway through digging into her purse for her wallet when I stepped up beside her and offered my card without thinking.

“I got it.”

She blinked. “Spencer—”

“It’s fine,” I said, quietly, not looking at her just yet.

“You’re gonna have to let me pay one of these days, you know?”

“Maybe,” I reply and turn back to Maddie, leaving no room for discussion. “You ready, Captain?”

Maddie’s face lit up with a bright smile. She brought her hand to her forehead in a crooked salute — all enthusiasm, no coordination.

“Aye aye, space wizard!”

I couldn’t help it — I smiled. It tugged at the corners of my mouth before I could stop it. She had that effect on me. Both of them did.

Y/N watched the exchange with a look I couldn’t quite name. Somewhere between amusement and something softer. Something that felt like it might crack me open if I stared at it too long.

“Alright, crew,” she said, brushing her hand lightly against my back as she started walking toward the exhibit hallway. “Let’s blast off.”

And just like that, Maddie took off again, arms out like wings, narrating her own mission under her breath.

I followed a step behind them, coffee still warm in my hand, heart a little fuller than it had any right to be.

Maddie’s shoes squeaked softly against the polished floors as we stepped into the dimmed glow of the Space Gallery — all navy-blue walls and tiny flecks of light that mimicked stars. She gasped so dramatically you’d think she hadn’t just spent the last hour talking about constellations. Her hand immediately reached for Spencer’s.

They walked a few steps ahead of me, her dragging him to the first exhibit like he was the one who needed guidance. Spencer tilted his head slightly, reading one of the displays with quiet focus. I could already see the gears in his head turning.

“Did you know a single teaspoon of neutron star material would weigh about 6 billion tons. That’s more than all of humanity combined?”

“What’s a neu star?” Maddie asked, her voice bouncing off the curved walls like it belonged there.

Spencer looked down at her and instinctively lowered himself a bit, like he wanted to meet her where she was — not just physically, but entirely. It wasn’t performative. He wasn’t showing off. He just wanted her to understand.

“A neutron star,” he said, so gently it almost caught me off guard, “is what’s left after a really big star explodes. It’s super small, but so heavy it would sink right through the Earth if you dropped it.”

Maddie stared up at him, unconvinced. “That’s not real.”

He smiled at her like she was letting him in on a secret. “It is. I promise.”

She thought for a second. “Is it heavier than my bag?”

He nodded. “Definitely.”

“What about my couch?”

He barely hesitated. “Think about a trillion of your couch.”

Her eyes widened. “Wow.”

And me? I just stood there. Watching them. Feeling something bloom in the center of my chest that I didn’t know what to do with. Not because it was surprising — not really — but because I had no defense against it.

He made her feel smart. Important. Listened to. He didn’t just tolerate her curiosity, he fed it, gently and patiently, like it was the most natural thing in the world. And I’d dated men who couldn’t even hold a two-minute conversation with her.

I wasn’t sure when I’d started looking at Spencer like this. I only knew that now, in this light, with starlight reflecting off glass and her tiny fingers still curled around his hand… He was no longer just the guy I was falling in love with… He was starting to become part of our little family.

It was getting harder to pretend I didn’t notice.

“My teacher told me space is quiet,” Maddie said, pointing to a photo of an astronaut drifting alone, weightless and small against the vast black behind him. The image made me ache a little, though I couldn’t say why. Maybe because I knew that kind of floating.

“Actually, space isn’t entirely silent,” Spencer replied, gently. “Contrary to popular belief.”

And just like that, his voice slipped into that soft cadence he used when he was explaining something — the one that made even the most complicated ideas feel like bedtime stories.

I watched him, watched the way his hand stayed loosely around Maddie’s, the way he glanced toward me halfway through the sentence. Like he was making sure I was still listening. Like he wanted me to hear it, too.

“While space is a vacuum,” he continued, “sound can travel through plasma waves. Spacecraft like Voyager have recorded electromagnetic vibrations, and those can be converted into sounds. That’s how we get those haunting recordings — those low, eerie tones from deep space.”

He said it like it was magic. Like science and wonder didn’t have to cancel each other out.

Maddie gasped. “So there are noises?”

He nodded. “Not like voices or music. But the universe… hums.”

And I don’t know. Maybe it was the way he said it, or the way his eyes lingered on mine a second too long. Maybe it was just the way he stood there, so calm, so sure — like the universe wasn’t so quiet after all.

But I felt something settle in my chest.

A kind of humming, too.

And it had everything to do with him.

“Are you okay?” he asked, catching me staring.

I blinked, caught. “Uh… yeah. Sorry.” I smiled, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear. “It’s just… what you said. It’s really interesting.”

It wasn’t a lie. But it wasn’t the truth, either.

What I meant was: You’re really interesting. You make everything feel a little more possible. I’m falling for you faster than I thought I would. And it scares me. And I still want to keep going anyway.

But I didn’t say any of that. Just smiled. Just walked with him to the next exhibit. Just let the hum settle a little deeper into my chest.

The quiet, steady hum that now lived with the image in my head — of him and me, floating in space… weightless, slow-dancing among the stars.

Maddie tugged on our hands again a few minutes later, pulling us toward a life-size cardboard cutout of three astronauts standing on the moon. Their helmets were cut out, faces missing — waiting to be filled.

“Mommy, can we please take a picture? Please, please, pleaseee?”

She was already halfway into the cutout before I could answer, sticking her head through the middle astronaut and waving her arms like she was floating.

I glanced at Spencer. He looked amused. A little hesitant, but not in the no kind of way. More like he was waiting for permission to be silly.

“Come on,” I said, nudging him gently toward the display. “You can be the one on the right.”

“What about you?” he asked, even as he stepped into position.

“I’ll be left.” I smiled. “We’ll let the captain take center.”

Maddie beamed.

A nearby planetarium staff member — young, kind-looking, with a smart camera clipped to her side — had been watching. I waved her over.

“Would you mind taking one for us?” I asked. “She’s really into the moment.”

“Of course,” she said with a grin, already unclipping the device. “We’ve got a quick-print model. Want me to run a copy for you?”

“Yes please!” Maddie chirped from inside the helmet.

The staffer raised the camera. “Okay, astronauts — big smiles! Say ‘zero gravity!’”

“ZERO GRAVITY!” Maddie screamed, right in my ear.

I laughed so hard I nearly knocked the cardboard loose.

Click.

After, we stepped out and leaned together to look at the screen on my phone. The photo was... chaotic. Maddie’s expression was wild-eyed and joyful, mine a little blurry from laughing, and Spencer—

Spencer was smiling.

Not that small, nervous half-smile he gave strangers. Not the polite, professional one.

He didn’t even notice he had that smile on—he couldn’t have noticed the way it made my heart flutter out of my chest.

The attendant stepped aside, tapping at the small screen, and within seconds, a glossy photo began printing from the side. She handed it to Maddie, who took it like it was the single most valuable object in the galaxy.

“Oh my gosh, look at me!” she squealed. “I look so cool.”

As she spun in a circle with the photo, Spencer stepped forward — quiet, casual, almost as if trying to be discreet. It was as if he didn’t want us to know he wanted to keep this moment. “Is it possible to print one more?”

“Sure thing,” the staffer said, feeding the request into the machine.

He waited, then slipped the second print into his wallet when he thought we were not looking, but I was. I was looking, and I was melting.

The man I met not so long ago — guarded, uncertain, stitched together by his own quiet grief — was now keeping a picture of the three of us in his wallet.

Like we were his.

Like he wanted us to be.

And God, if I wasn’t already so in love with him… this would’ve been the moment.

“Mama, I’m hungry,” Maddie said, tugging at the hem of my sweater and breaking the thought clean in half.

“There’s a cafeteria here,” Spencer said gently, glancing down at her, then at me. “It’s just past the next exhibit hall.”

I nodded, still catching up with my own heartbeat. “Yeah. That sounds good.”

Maddie was already on the move, leading the way as if she knew exactly where she was going — like she’d memorized the map in her dreams. Spencer fell into step beside me, and for a moment, we didn’t say anything.

We didn’t need to.

“Let’s go sit at that table with the stars on top!” Maddie shouted, already halfway there before either of us had a chance to say yes. Her shoes lit up with every step like she was walking across a galaxy. She was positively buzzing — like the gift shop, the theater, and the entirety of outer space were somehow all crammed into this little lunchroom.

“Star table it is,” I said, watching as she hurried to the table. “Sweetheart, Spencer and I will go get the food. Don’t move from the table.”

“Okay!” she chirped, already climbing into the seat like she was buckling into a spaceship.

We turned toward the line, and I could already feel it — the way Spencer’s presence settled beside me. Close, but never overbearing. Just there. In that way he always was now.

“She’s in full astronaut mode today,” I said as we grabbed a tray.

“She’s very committed to the mission,” he smiled beside me, “I think she thinks this is her command center.”

“She’s not wrong,” I murmured. “We’re just lucky she hasn’t tried to assign us matching uniforms yet.”

He chuckled — a low, unguarded sound that slipped right through his ribs and out his mouth. I was convinced i would never get tired of hearing it.

I grabbed us a spot in line while he hovered near Maddie, making sure she was safe and wouldn’t cause any havoc from her excitement. From a distance, they already looked like a family. They were a picture I’d dreamed up once and forgotten, only to stumble into it again by accident.

By the time he joined me in line, I’d pulled myself back together. Mostly.

“She’ll want the mac and cheese,” I said, scanning the kid’s menu. “But she’s going to ask for no green things.”

“No green things?” Spencer echoed, like he was entering it into some invisible file.

“She has a personal grudge against anything remotely herbaceous,” I said. “If there’s a microscopic fleck of parsley on the edge of the plate, she will know.”

“She sounds like a tiny food critic,” he said, looking entirely too fond.

“She once asked a waiter if he knew spinach was actually poison,” I deadpanned.

Spencer laughed — He kept laughing throughout the day, and I swear, each time it chipped away at whatever guard I’d carefully built between us. Weakening me in the best, most dangerous way.

I just looked at him.

And he looked back, eyes warm, mouth tugged into this impossibly soft smile. It made me feel like my ribs might disintegrate under the pressure of how much I wanted him.

I was sure I was blushing. I could feel it blooming up my neck, burning behind my ears.

He didn’t say anything. Didn’t tease or ask what I was thinking. He just… kept looking. Like I was something worth paying attention to.

And I wanted to stay right there — suspended in that silence, caught in the gravity of him — for just a little longer.

But then Maddie waved at us from the table like she was trying to land a plane, and I exhaled, breaking the moment before it could swallow me whole.

We got our food and made it back to the table, where Maddie had arranged her napkin like a placemat.

“Mac and cheese, no green things,” Spencer said, placing the tray in front of her. “Just how the captain likes it.”

She looked up at him like he’d just granted her a wish. “How’d you know that?”

“Well, Maddie, you forget I’m a wizard,” he said, like it was obvious. Like there was no other explanation necessary.

She looked absolutely enchanted. I looked at him.

And there it was again — that quiet pull in my chest. The part of me that ached in a way that wasn’t painful, just… full. Too full.

I slid into the seat across from him, setting my drink down as Maddie arranged her napkin like it was part of a formal galactic dinner.

Spencer took a bite of his hot dog and immediately got mustard on his sleeve.

“Oh,” I said, grabbing a napkin. “Hold still.”

“I’m fine—”

“I know.” I smiled, dabbing at the spot anyway. “You’re not being arrested. I just don’t want you to look like a guy who lost a fight with a condiment.”

He held still. Let me wipe at his sleeve like it was the most natural thing in the world. No awkward flinching. No muttering about how it didn’t matter.

Just... stillness.

Trust.

“You didn’t even try to stop me,” I teased, tossing the napkin into a pile.

“I figured you’d win anyway,” he said, voice softer now.

I glanced up. He was already looking at me.

And suddenly the table felt smaller. The air thicker. Not in a bad way — just charged. Like something unspoken had landed between us, and neither of us quite knew what to do with it.

“I don’t always win,” I said.

“You always do with me,” he replied — then took a sip of his drink like he hadn’t just casually short-circuited my brain. “You two always do.”

Maddie, mercifully, broke the silence by nudging his arm. “Can I have some of your cookie?”

He blinked, like he’d momentarily forgotten she was even there. “Of course.”

He broke it in half and handed her the bigger piece.

I watched it all — the soft way he passed it to her, the quiet smile on his face when she called him “Space Wizard” again.

And the hum in my chest — that same one from the gallery — came back full force.

We lingered at that star-covered table longer than I meant to. Long enough for Maddie to finish her meal and long enough for Spencer to wipe a crumb from the corner of her mouth without thinking. Long enough for me to realize — again — that he fit here. With us. So effortlessly it almost hurt.

Eventually, Maddie pointed toward the glowing sign near the exit and gasped like she’d just discovered treasure.

“The gift shop!”

I didn’t even have time to respond before she was on her feet, stuffing her bag under one arm and dragging Spencer by the hand with the other.

“Come on, come on, come on!” she cried, bouncing with every step. “We have to get space stuff!”

Spencer looked back at me helplessly as she pulled him along, and I just laughed, tossing our trash away and hurrying to catch up.

The gift shop was a blur of overpriced glow-in-the-dark toys, constellation kits, stuffed astronauts, and themed candy. It should’ve been overstimulating — the kind of place that gave parents a headache.

But for some reason, it felt… nice.

Warm.

Maddie darted from aisle to aisle, narrating every item like it was part of an expedition. I followed behind, but Spencer stuck close to her, letting her explain which rocks were “actually from the real moon” and which plushies were “too pretty.” He took it all in with that same quiet interest — like none of it was beneath him.

After a while, she held up a glow-in-the-dark space puzzle, her arms barely able to carry the box.

“This one! Mommy, please? It glows like actual stars!”

I took it from her to check the price, already reaching for my wallet.

But Spencer was faster.

He stepped in without a word, card already in hand.

“Spencer,” I warned, but he didn’t look at me — just handed it to the cashier with a polite smile.

“I’ve got it.”

“I thought we agreed you were gonna let me pay this time,” I muttered, trying not to smile.

He glanced over at me then, that little gleam in his eye like he knew exactly what he was doing. “No, you said that. I said maybe.”

“Smartass.”

“Mommy,” Maddie said, peeking up at me with wide, curious eyes. “What’s a smart ass?”

I froze. Spencer turned very still beside me, lips twitching like he was trying not to laugh.

“It’s… uh…” I cleared my throat. “It’s a type of donkey. Very clever. They use them in space missions sometimes.”

Maddie blinked slowly, unconvinced.

“You’re lying,” she said flatly.

Spencer coughed into his hand. “She’s kind of right, actually. There’s no documentation on NASA space donkeys.”

“See!” Maddie said, triumphant.

I gave him a look. “You’re not helping.”

“I’m trying not to laugh,” he whispered back, and God, the way his eyes crinkled when he smiled — I wanted to bottle it.

The cashier handed over the bag with a smile. “You three make such a cute family.”

The world tilted.

Just slightly.

And then I felt it — the shift in Spencer beside me. Subtle, but instant. The way his body tensed. The way the warmth drained from his smile just enough to feel it.

He spoke before I could.

“Oh—uh, we’re not a family.”

It was quick. Sharp. Like he wanted to make sure it was said before it could be misinterpreted — before the moment could get away from him. His voice had that practiced ease to it, but I heard the hitch underneath. The flicker of nerves.

And still, it stung.

It shouldn’t have. I knew it shouldn’t have. Because he wasn’t wrong. We’re not a family. That word carries weight, permanence, things we’ve never said out loud — maybe never even let ourselves think for more than a second. We’ve been orbiting something unnamed for weeks, months. Carefully. Cautiously. Never too close.

But maybe, deep down, I’d started to believe in the blur between what we are and what we could be.

Maybe I liked living in that bubble. The warm, soft, unspoken place where our mornings felt like rituals and our laughter echoed like it belonged to something bigger. Where he kept photos of us in his wallet. Where Maddie called him a wizard. Where we just... fit.

And now the bubble had burst.

One sentence. One reflex. And suddenly everything felt colder.

I forced a smile. The kind you give strangers who compliment your outfit — small, polite, harmless. I didn’t let it reach my eyes.

He quickly payed for the puzzle, like he wanted to get out of there as soon as he could.

“Right,” I said, like it hadn’t scraped against something raw inside me. “Just friends.”

We stepped out into the late afternoon sun, the sky now a gentler blue, the kind that comes after a long day of wonder.

Maddie skipped ahead of us on the sidewalk, her sparkly bag swinging wildly in her grip, pigtails bouncing with every uneven step. She was narrating something to herself — something about stars and space wizards and how she was going to “glow in the dark” when she got home.

I couldn’t make out the words. I wasn’t really listening.

I clutched the museum bag in my hand a little tighter, fingers curled too tightly around the soft plastic. It crinkled loudly with every step. I didn’t let go.

Spencer walked beside me, just close enough that our arms nearly brushed. He said something — something low, something gentle. A comment about the gift shop or the sun or Maddie’s energy levels. I couldn’t even tell.

I nodded. Maybe I smiled. I don’t know.

I just kept walking.

Because my heart was still back at the checkout counter, sitting quietly next to the words we’re not a family.

He didn’t mean anything by it. I know he didn’t.

And even if he did… he’s not wrong, we’re not a family.

But that doesn’t stop the part of me that wishes we were — That he wanted us to be.

Previous Chapter |

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[fisherld3]

“Back at Work”

Melissa Schemmenti x Reader

Continuation of “First Date” — 2,102 words

Genre: romance, fluff, tension, humor, secret relationship beginnings

⸻

You woke Saturday morning grinning into your pillow.

That kiss.

That date.

Melissa’s crooked smile when she’d called you “sweetheart.”

It all felt too good to be real. For a minute, you worried that Monday at work might be… awkward. That Melissa would pull away again, or that somehow things would snap back to that cold distance from the fall.

But then your phone buzzed:

Melissa: You free for lunch today?

If I wait til Monday to see you again I’m gonna lose my mind.

You laughed, heart fluttering.

You: I’d like that. Pick me up?

⸻

You spent most of the weekend with her after that—lazy lunch, slow walk through the park, long conversation at her place that lasted late into the night. The walls she usually kept up were softer now, her touches gentler, voice rough when she said your name.

You didn’t sleep over yet—but the way she kissed you goodnight at your door left no doubt about how badly she wanted to.

When Monday rolled around, you walked into Abbott feeling… lighter. Warm, even with the chill outside. But also a little nervous.

Because while the two of you knew where this was going, the rest of the staff had no idea.

And you weren’t quite ready to hand your private happiness over to the gossip mill just yet.

⸻

Melissa seemed to get it.

You spotted her at her classroom door first thing, talking with a student’s parent. When your eyes met, her mouth quirked in a private little smile—nothing obvious, nothing that would draw attention. But it made your heart race anyway.

⸻

In the lounge at lunch, you took your usual seat across the table. Melissa strolled in late, grabbed her coffee, leaned against the counter—eyes flicking to yours, the barest lift of her brow.

It was ridiculous how giddy it made you.

Jacob, oblivious, launched into a story about his weekend volunteering with the community garden. Janine chimed in about an art project she wanted to try with her kids.

You nodded, half-listening—until you noticed Barbara giving you a Look across the table. Subtle. Knowing.

Your stomach flipped.

Barbara was too sharp not to notice things. You could feel it—her eyes drifting from you to Melissa, to the little glances that probably weren’t as subtle as you thought.

⸻

After lunch, you escaped to your classroom. Five minutes later, there was a light knock on your door.

Melissa peeked in. “Hey.”

You smiled, setting down your mug. “Hey.”

She closed the door behind her, leaning back against it.

“Everything okay?” you asked.

“Yeah.” Her voice was low. “Just… missed you.”

You bit your lip. “We just had lunch.”

“Didn’t get to talk to you.” She crossed the room in a few strides, stopping close. “You looked real cute in there, tryin’ to act all normal.”

Your cheeks warmed. “You didn’t exactly help.”

Her grin turned wicked. “I wasn’t trying to.”

Before you could answer, she brushed a kiss to your cheek—quick, light.

You blinked. “Melissa! What if someone walks in?”

She smirked. “Door’s locked. I checked.”

Still, you shook your head, laughing softly. “We’re terrible at this.”

“Maybe.” She tucked a strand of hair behind your ear, her thumb grazing your cheek. “You worried what they’ll think?”

You hesitated—honest. “A little.”

Her expression softened. “That’s fine. We’ll go slow. Far as they know, we’re still sworn enemies.”

You huffed a laugh. “Worked so well for us before.”

Melissa leaned in, voice rough. “Worked fine the minute you kissed me back.”

You flushed, pulse racing—but just then, the bell rang in the hall, making you both jump.

Melissa sighed, stepping back. “Later,” she murmured.

And with one last wink, she slipped out.

⸻

By Thursday, it was getting harder to hide.

The little glances. The way you lingered by her classroom door between periods. The way she’d started calling you “hon” in the lounge without even noticing.

Even Jacob—sweet, clueless Jacob—seemed to pick up on it.

During lunch, as you passed Melissa refilling her coffee, Jacob suddenly asked:

“So… did you two finally make peace? Been months of tension.”

You nearly choked on your water.

Melissa arched a brow, calm as anything. “Maybe we did.”

Jacob blinked. “Wow. That’s… progress!” He beamed, oblivious.

Janine, across the table, wasn’t so easily fooled. Her eyes narrowed—bouncing between you and Melissa. “Huh.”

You avoided her gaze, busying yourself with your sandwich. But Barbara, sitting nearby, just sipped her tea—looking very, very smug.

⸻

That afternoon, as dismissal chaos quieted the halls, Melissa cornered you by the copy machine.

“Think the jig’s up,” she murmured, voice low in your ear.

You shivered. “You think?”

She smirked. “You’re cute when you’re flustered.”

You nudged her with your elbow, trying to keep it light. “I just didn’t want the whole school speculating yet.”

Her gaze softened. “Hey. We’ll go at your pace.”

You exhaled, warmth spreading through your chest. “Thank you.”

Melissa tilted her head. “Of course. You think I’d risk losin’ this already?”

She brushed her fingers lightly down your arm before stepping away—leaving you blushing, heart pounding.

⸻

Friday afternoon, just before dismissal, you found a folded note slipped into your desk drawer.

Your breath caught when you opened it:

Dinner tonight? My place. You pick the movie. Bring a toothbrush this time. — M.

You bit your lip, smiling so wide it hurt.

You didn’t answer right away—just caught her eye across the hall as you walked past her door, flashing a little grin. She winked, knowing.

Maybe next week the staff would know. Maybe soon the whispers would start.

But for now, it was yours—this secret warmth, this soft thing growing between you.

And God, it was good.