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vanwritesfan-fiction · 4 months

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Liar, Liar

Joe finds out you've faked it in the bedroom before, and he's determined to make sure you never lie to him again

Warnings: smut (thigh riding, intercourse), language, fluff at the end

"I mean", Sarah paused as she topped off her glass of red wine, the bottle hitting your coffee table with a thump, "there's this expectation that we're just supposed to be at the ready whenever they get home, and sometimes I'm too tired." She sunk into the couch dramatically, her confession earning a couple of hums and nods in agreement from the group.

"Exactly! Like just because you have the stamina of an athlete, doesn't mean I do!", Rebecca chimed in, raising her glass to the group, a few intoxicated chuckles echoing through the living room.

You were tight lipped as you tucked your legs underneath you on the couch, taking a big gulp of your wine as you nervously played with the hem of your sweater.

It was your turn to host the monthly Bengals WAGS get together. It started out as a book club, but quickly became a gossip and venting session where everyone would reveal the things that bothered them about being married or dating a professional athlete. It wasn't really your scene to air out your dirty laundry to anyone outside of your relationship, but you wanted to make friends in the organization, so you offered to bring the alcohol.

"Y/N, you're awfully quiet tonight." All eyes were on you now, and you shrunk under the scrutiny. "Spill it girl, everyone's dying to know how Joe is in bed." Tiffany, the most senior wife on the team, she'd been married to her husband for over a decade, scooted forward towards you. Desperate to change the conversation, you pivoted. "Uh, can I get anyone more wine?" You quickly lifted to your feet and scurried to through the house before anyone could stop you.

"Yeah, baby, how am I in bed?" Joe's voice startled you as you collided with him in the kitchen, Joe catching you at the waist. "Oh my god, don't even start." You playfully slapped him on the chest before pulling away, making him chuckle. You disappeared into the pantry and reemerged with a couple of bottles of wine.

"Where is the bottle opener, babe?" You searched the usual drawer, coming up empty. "Here." Joe approached you from behind, his crotch pressing against your ass as he reached above you to grab the bottle opener. "You better have nothing but good things to say about me", he teased you, a whisper in your ear sending a shiver down your spine.

"That doesn't bother you, that people are asking about something so intimate?" You asked, furrowing your brow as you looked at Joe, who simply shrugged. "I mean, not really. As long as you're not getting too detailed", he smirked at you, making your stomach flutter, "its just your version of locker room talk. Its harmless in my eyes."

You removed the cork from one of the bottles with a large with a loud pop. "So I shouldn't tell them about how you like to-", you gestured at your chest suggestively. "Hey! Those are details." Joe wagged a finger at you, playfully patting your butt as you walked back to the living room.

"Y/N! You're just in time!", one of the other wives perked up as you reentered the room, filling up the glasses before you sat back down. "Oh really?" You weren't sure you wanted to hear what they were talking about to be honest. 'Yes! We've been talking about whether or not we've ever faked it with our guys." She wiggled her eyebrows at you, "you know, in the bedroom."

You choked on your wine, letting out a couple of forced coughs to catch your breath. "I, uh-", you were feeling the pressure to say something memorable. You really hadn't ever faked an orgasm with Joe, but you really wanted to make friends with the other wives, they were your lifeline when you spent a lot of weeks alone. "I'm sure I've done it once before, I just really can't remember." You immediately regretted saying that, your throat going dry.

****

Once all of the ladies had left and you had cleaned up the living room and kitchen, you headed upstairs to get ready for bed. Joe had disappeared at some point during the night upstairs to watch game tape, but when you checked his office, it was empty. You followed the sound of the shower to your bedroom, spotting Joe's pajamas laid out on the bed.

"Remind me to never host a party again", you chuckled, "The wives are something else." Joe barely acknowledged your presence as he walked out of the bathroom, a towel tied at his waist. "I was thinking we could go to brunch at this new place Sarah mentioned." Joe was silent as he slipped a t-shirt over his head. "Joe?"

"I have practice tomorrow", he finally bit out with a sigh.

"I know. I mean after practice. Maybe we could run a couple errands together? Its been a while since we've done that."

"After practice, I have meetings." Even if you didn't know your husband well, anyone could tell that Joe was upset about something.

"Babe, what's wrong?"

Joe let out a curt laugh, louder than intended. "I don't know. You're the one faking orgasms, why don't you tell me?" Joe wasn't boastful, neither in his private life or on the field, but he did have pride, and it was wounded tonight when he heard you telling all the wives how unsatisfied you were with him in the bedroom.

"Joe, listen, I can explain that-"

"How long have you been lying to me?" You knew you had to tread carefully here and make sure you didn't say the wrong thing. "I haven't been lying to you, Joe. You said it yourself, its just "locker room" talk."

"And we agreed, no details! I don't talk to the guys about you like that." Joe sat at the edge of the bed, his brow furrowed in anger. You straddled his lap, raking your hands through his wet hair. "You're right. I crossed a line, it won't happen again, okay? But really, babe, it was nothing." You teased him with a quick peck on the lips, Joe deepening the kiss as he held you in place by the back of the head. You moaned as you felt his tongue roam your mouth, gasping for breath as the two of you made out.

You broke apart out of necessity, your chest heaving as you looked at Joe's baby blue eyes, your faces inches from each other.

"Show me."

You held his face in your hands. "Show you what?"

"When I'm fucking you. Where you're faking it." You groaned as you lifted yourself off of his lap. "Joe, let it go, please." Joe hated losing, always had, and this admission felt like a loss to him. He grabbed your wrist as you tried to walk away, pulling you to stand between his legs. His fingers toyed with the zipper of your jeans before he unbuttoned them, pushing them past your hips and exposing your lace panties. He pressed a kiss just below your belly button, his lips lingering against your skin as you shivered. You stepped out of your jeans, kicking them off to the side.

"If you're not lying, and this is just locker room talk, let me fix whatever's wrong."

The thought of you faking an orgasm truly did upset him, and as much as he hides behind his male bravado, there's something incredibly intimate about being able to truly release for your partner, no holds barred. A level of trust he's worked hard for, and you so easily revealed to be false.

You opened your mouth to speak, but could only let out a gasp as he quickly had you mount one of his large, muscular thighs, his hands holding you down at your hips. You instinctively ground yourself against him, the friction of your panties rubbing against your clit overwhelming. "Joe, I-" you mumbled against his lips as he pulled you in for another kiss, your fingertips digging into his shoulders as you quickened the pace of your hips, alternating between moving back and forth and in lazy circles as your orgasm built in your core.

"It can't be this, baby", he whispered, taking in your face as it contorted with pleasure, "that doesn't look like the face of someone faking it."

"I promise you, I'm not faking it." You bit out, throwing your head back. You pulled your shirt off over your head, your breasts at eye level with Joe. His nose trailed down your front, nestling between your breasts as he laid wet kisses between them. You were quickly coming undone, frantically moving on top of him. He could feel you getting close, your thighs clenching around his leg. "Get on the bed."

You climbed around Joe, lying on your back as he stood, the towel around his waist falling to his feet. The tip of his cock was bright pink and leaking with pre-cum as it rested against his lower stomach. You were salivating at the thought of feeling him on your tongue, but Joe had other plans for you. You felt the mattress dip as he pressed a knee into the bed, moving to position himself between your legs.

He let out a dark chuckle as he stroked himself, watching you wriggle on the bed uncomfortably, desperate to reach your climax. "Were you lying about this part, baby?" You let out a squeal as he drug the head of his cock through your drenched folds, teasing your entrance before pulling away.

"Joe, please", you begged, very aware of how desperate you sounded. You shifted yourself down towards him, growing impatient. "Joe, what?" At this point he was just enjoying toying with you. "Joe, please stop playing around." You could fake with your words all you wanted, but your body gave you away. You were no actor; there was no faking the shaking legs and the heaving chest.

He moaned out as he sunk deep into you, bottoming out as you adjusted to his size, slowly moving your hips around his pelvis. He leaned over, framing your head with his forearms. "You know, I could never fake this with you." He moved to your throat, grazing his teeth against your skin. At this point you were just cockwarming him as Joe pressed kisses to your jawline.

"Joe, please, move. Fuck me, please." You whined in his ear, digging your nails into his back, but he continued to hold you there with his body weight. There's nothing you can do but submit to him and you want nothing more than for him to ravish you, but you can tell he's holding back.

"The way you feel when I'm so deep inside of you." He slowly pulled out before slamming his hips back into you, all of the breath leaving your chest. "All of this is real. Always has been, always will be." He pulls out again, this time pushing himself to the hilt agonizingly slow, so you feel every inch of him.

The pace he set was relentless, his thrusts audible in the room as you coated his cock with your slick, hurdling toward your orgasm. "Fuck, Joe. Fuck, don't stop", you breathed out, your eyes shut tight. You tried to reach down to pleasure yourself, but Joe pounded so roughly into you, you couldn't focus, the circles around your clit erratic, your moans vibrating in your chest. "I'm- I'm, Joe-" you stuttered, gasping for breath, tears welling in your eyes from the intense pleasure. "I've got you, baby. I've got you", he reassured you, seeing you grasp at the sheets to steady yourself.

He studied your face, looking for the sign that you were close. There it was: you scrunched your face tightly, your nose wiggling as your release washed over you, your cushiony walls clenching down around him. He remembered how cute your orgasming face was the first time he saw it, an innocent juxtaposition to the explicit actions happening below.

"Such a good girl. So good, baby." He praised, as each pulse of your muscles pulled him in deeper, making his hips stutter, warmth pooling in his stomach. He continued to fuck you so you could ride your high as long as possible, but you were overstimulated. Joe nestled his face in the crook of your neck, groans leaving his mouth as he felt you tighten around him, and in within seconds he was cuming inside of you, "Oh, fuck, fuck", he cried out as you milked him for every drop of his release.

You pulled him in tight, cradling his head and drawling lazy circles on his back as you both came down from your high. His pants in your ear made you shiver, a giggle slipping from your lips as his cock grazed against your sensitive bud when he pulled out. He pushed away from the bed, resting on his hands, laying to the side of you. He took his time admiring your perfect body, his fingertips dragging along your sensitive skin, your face blissed out and euphoric.

"You know I'd never lie to you, right?", you stroked his cheek with your thumb as he looked down at you. "I love you, Joe."

"I know. I never should have doubted you." He gave you a small smile as he rested his chin on your chest. "Just no more bedroom talk with the wives. Deal?"

"Deal, baby."

Tag-List:

@wonderlandiswhereitsatyo

@bernelflo

@wickedfun9

@brrbrina

@zobellagio

@tallrock35

#joe burrow #joey burrow #joey b #joe burrow x reader #joe burrow fanfiction #joe burrow smut #joe burrow imagine #nfl imagine #nfl fanfic #nfl fanfiction #nfl smut

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chahnniesroom · 3 months

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for richer, for poorer

pairing: bang chan x female reader

summary: gift giving has always been something you've agonised over. for chan, just having you in his life is enough.

word count: 3.4k

warnings: insecurities (especially related to finances), feeling anxious, hurt/comfort

a/n: i know it’s still a long time until october, but i didn't write it in time to fit as like a holiday related fic. formatted this on my phone bc i'm lazy so please let me know if anything looks weird!

bonus: minho's reaction to his gift (included as a reblog of this post)

till death do us part collection | read it on ao3 | masterlist

Gift giving has always been something that you agonised over. You wanted so desperately to get something meaningful and special that nothing you ended up getting seemed special enough.

So when Felix had proposed throwing both Chan and Minho a party for their birthdays, you were more than happy to help plan. You could see that Chan had hesitated when Felix had told them about it, but he had ultimately agreed when he saw the way Minho had seemed to perk up at the idea.

It wouldn’t be anything too big, Felix promised, just inviting some close friends to have dinner and hang out. It slowly balloons into more than a simple dinner, but the opportunities for the members to have their friends gather are so rare that you swallow your concerns.

The night of, you can’t help feeling a bit nervous. You recognise almost everyone, but that's the part that scares you - you've only seen most of these people through your phone screen before. You know Chan and Minho have a lot of idol friends, but you didn't realise there would be so many at the party. You had discussed the guest list with Felix briefly, but your concern had been about the number of guests and not who they actually were. Now you’re starting to regret it, you aren’t mentally prepared to be face to face with so many celebrities.

The time passes surprisingly quickly with people trickling in as the night goes on. Dinner is casual, you’ve helped to cook a number of dishes and takeout was ordered to fill the rest of the counter. There isn’t enough proper seating so everyone is spread throughout the kitchen and living room.

You spend most of the time just wandering through and making sure that there’s no shortage of drinks, appetizers, and that the empty dishes or cups are cleared away. Of course, you greet everybody as they arrive and thank them for coming, but it’s hard not to be intimidated by all the famous faces.

Eventually Changbin drags the birthday boys to the living room, standing them in front of the TV to open gifts. Everyone else either crams themselves onto the couches, sits on the floor, or loiters closer to the doors.

Chan insists that he open presents at the same time as Minho instead of one at a time like Jisung suggests. Someone pushes a couple of matching boxes into their hands and steps away.

It's almost comical how different they open them. Chan takes his time, carefully pulling apart the ribbon that's wrapped around the box, sliding the lid off and putting it to the side, then slowly peeling aside the tissue paper. Minho on the other hand, manages to pull the ribbon off the box without untying it and flips the box to shake off the lid and reveal the contents.

They're complementary hoodies in the casual and oversized fit that the boys usually go for. You recognize the brand, have seen the members wear it on more than one occasion, and know that they most likely cost the same as your monthly salary.

The next gifts seem fairly innocuous, a beanie for Chan and a baseball cap for Minho, but you know their pieces often go for over a million won, more than you’ve ever spent on a single clothing item.

It continues on like this, the boys receiving items like music equipment, alcohol, and sunglasses. It makes you swallow hard when you think of your own, mostly handmade gift.

Maybe the worst part is that nobody else at the party even blinks an eye at it. You can’t blame them, it’s the nature of their occupation that has gotten them desensitised to being surrounded by luxury and it’s not like they can’t afford to indulge in getting more expensive things.

When you look down, wanting to stop staring at the pile of opened gifts, you see that you've partially crushed the packaging of your own gift. It already looked shabby enough, it was obvious you had wrapped it yourself and the paper you used was from the supermarket, but now it was even worse.

When you try to smooth out the crinkles, your shaky fingers somehow make it ruin it more. You bite your lip, hard, then stop, self conscious about your appearance around all these idols.

It suddenly feels cramped and too warm, sweat starting to gather on your forehead and back. The room starts to spin slightly and you become overly aware of your heart beating in your chest.

A burst of laughter from the crowd spooks you, pulling you out of your head. You use the opportunity to get to your feet and excuse yourself. You slip away as quietly as you can and breathe a sigh of relief when you make it into Chan's room without anyone following you.

You don’t bother to turn on the lights, not wanting anyone to check up on you, and sit on the ground with your back against Chan’s bed. With the door closed, the noise from the party is muffled and it’s significantly colder in this area of the dorm. You press your hands to your face and take a few deep breaths to try and calm your heart rate.

You don’t know what’s wrong with you because you know you shouldn’t feel like his. You had been looking forward to watching Chan and Minho open their gifts, you had spent a lot of time preparing them and you had felt confident that they would enjoy them.

Well, until you saw everything else that they received.

Now your ideas just seemed silly. You feel humiliated at the thought of everybody seeing the obviously cheap gifts and even worse when you consider how ashamed Chan might be for others to know that you were his partner.

Although you were working full-time at the moment, you had only graduated from university last year and your student debt was an ever present weight on your shoulders that you tried your best to hide. Everything you had went to paying it back and checking in bi-weekly to see the number get smaller and smaller was the only thing that made you feel better.

Chan knew that you often worried about money. You had been mortified the first time that he had walked in on you trying to organise your finances for the next few months. He had glanced over your shoulder before you had even realised he was in the room and all the red cells showing where you were in a deficit were hard to miss.

It had been early on in your relationship and the dates that the two of you had been on as well as a couple unforeseen events had meant that you had been spending way more than what you had anticipated. Of course, Chan had treated you on a number of occasions, but you refused sometimes because you felt guilty every time he offered to pay, especially since it had been only a couple years after his debut.

He had been more than understanding, but you had been so embarrassed and caught off guard that you couldn't stop the tears from streaking down your face. Since then, Chan and the members had never done anything to make you feel like they pitied you or thought any less of you for your financial situation, in fact they did the opposite.

When you had first started visiting the dorms, opening the food delivery apps was like a reflex for all of the boys once it was dinnertime. You were always hesitant to choose anything and felt even worse by the nonchalant way that they covered the costs each time. Even though you knew they didn’t think anything of it, you couldn’t help but feel like you were taking advantage of their hospitality.

Somehow they caught on to your reluctance to buy food and now it's tradition that you cook for them when you come over, enough so that they keep the kitchen stocked with more than ramen, chicken breasts, and protein powder.

In particular, Minho absolutely loved your cooking and had needled you many times on sharing how you made it. You had always denied him though, saying that you didn't use exact measurements and came up with things on the fly. That’s why for his gift, you had taken the time to create a recipe book, complete with pictures for each step and modifications that he could make based on the ingredients he had.

You had spent a few months thinking about what to give Chan. He was harder to shop for since you knew he wasn't overly fond of celebrating his birthday and didn’t want you to spend money on him, but was always touched when you got him something. Usually, you tried to do something he was more likely to accept.

Last year, you had organised with the company to give Chan a day off and had taken him out to a movie. It was a pretty standard date, but the two of you rarely had the opportunity to go out together and you knew Chan had resigned himself to watching the movie when it was released online instead of going to the theatres like he had hoped to. Having to spend a few days trying to sort out all the logistics of secretly rearranging Chan’s schedule had been more than worth it with the way that his face had lit up when you had told him about what you had planned.

You don't know how long you sit alone, but every time that you tell yourself to get up and rejoin the party, it feels impossible to move.

“Hey,” Chan's voice is cautious, but you startle anyway, scrambling to stand up. Stuck in your thoughts, you hadn’t even noticed him entering the room. “Is everything okay?”

“Yeah, I'm fine, I'm fine. Just needed some air, it was getting kind of stuffy in there,” you explain. “I didn't think you'd notice.”

“Of course I noticed. You were there one second and gone the next, I didn't know what happened.”

“It’s nothing.” You avoid Chan’s gaze, not wanting to see the concern that shines in his eyes.

Chan steps closer, then reaches out and tangles your fingers together, using your connection to pull the two of you to sit on the bed.

“Y/n, baby,” he says softly. “Talk to me. Tell me what’s going on in here.” He leans forward until the side of his head bumps into yours.

“It’s-”

“Don’t say it’s not important,” he warns. “It’s important to you and that makes it important to me, okay?”

“Uhm,” you pause for a moment, unsure of how you want to word your thoughts. You trust Chan, but it still feels scary being vulnerable. “I guess, I was just feeling… Insecure.”

“Insecure?” Chan tilts his head slightly. “About what?”

“Everyone-” you laugh slightly, embarrassed. “Everyone gave you guys such nice gifts, I feel like mine don’t even compare.”

“Y/n, you know I don’t care about that kind of thing. If I had the choice, nobody would be giving me gifts at all. Just having you in my life is enough.” Chan’s voice is painfully sincere.

“I know you don't mind. It just- It feels bad that I can't give you something nice like they can. It's dumb, I know, but I can't help it.”

“I can open it here, away from everyone else if you want,” Chan offers. “Or you don't even have to give it to me today, you can save it until you feel better. Or don't give it to me at all, it's all okay.”

“No no, I want you to have it,” you say immediately. Before you can think better of it, you reach down and retrieve the gift from where you left it on the floor.

“Whatever makes you feel comfortable,” Chan reassures you.

“This is fine,” you decide. “Just the two of us."

“Okay.”

“It’s not designer,” you say suddenly, fiddling with the ribbon that keeps the two packages together. Both of you ignore the fact that you’re just stalling at this point.

“I don’t need any more clothes, I barely wear everything I own now,” Chan jokes.

“Really, you might not like it,” you warn.

“Baby, when have I ever disliked anything that you’ve gotten for me?” Chan drops the teasing tone. You think for a moment.

“When you asked me to order noodles for you and I accidentally got you the spicy version and it made you cry?”

“Did I say that I didn’t like them?”

“No, you ate it all even though I warned you that it would make your stomach hurt for the next couple of days,” you say, smiling faintly at the memory.

You had gotten yourself the same dish and had found it to be bearable, while Chan’s face had turned bright red after the first bite. You had offered a few times to get him a non-spicy version so that he could enjoy himself, but he had been determined to finish, soaking his shirt and beanie with how much he had sweated. He hadn’t even been able to continue carrying a conversation with you, too busy trying to suck in air to cool his mouth.

It had been even funnier for you the next day, receiving multiple texts from Chan about his stomach hurting and having to continually pause dance practice to go to the bathroom.

“The pain was worth it,” Chan insists. “I'm actually convinced that I'll like anything you give me. Now come on, let me open my gifts!”

You hand over the gift and watch as he pulls away the ribbon to separate the boxes and peels away the tape on the first package. His brow is furrowed in concentration as he tries not to rip the wrapping paper.

This gift was more neutral, a set that contained a wallet and cardholder, both in black. Although Chan hadn’t complained at all, the wallet he had been using was from years ago and the synthetic material was starting to crack and flake away at the edges.

He looks delighted, examining it briefly before pulling out his old wallet and transferring all his cards and cash into this new one. Although it’s not a name brand, you had purchased it at a small shop specialising in handcrafted genuine leather goods at a surprisingly affordable price. It was good quality and suited the simplicity that Chan preferred.

“It's just what I needed,” he says, sounding pleased. “You pay so much attention.”

“I'm glad you like it,” you say, feeling relieved even though you had been pretty sure that he would be happy with it.

The unease comes back when he turns his attention to the second gift. Once again, he puts in effort to gently unwrap it, revealing an old chocolate box that you had repurposed from one of your dates.

You’ve always been on the more sentimental side and had saved it, wanting to remember the evening that Chan had taken you out and the two of you had spent 20 minutes in the shop, meticulously picking out the flavours that you wanted to try. The box is made of a surprisingly durable material and is the perfect size for this gift. You’ve painted over it too, concealing the original design.

Chan turns it around in his hands curiously, before sliding the lid up. You turn away to stare at your hands, overwhelmed by nervousness.

You already know what’s inside. It’s a deck of cards that you’ve transformed, with 52 things I love about you inscribed on one of the jokers. On the flip side, you’ve painted a picture of you and Chan smiling widely with your cheeks pressed together. It’s his favourite, one he always tells you would be permanently on his lock screen if he wasn’t an idol.

The rest of the cards are decorated similarly, a small drawing or painting on one side with the things, people, and places that Chan loves on one side, and something that you love about Chan on the other. The last joker is the only one that's different, you've treated it as a card and have a small message written on.

You had been so excited when you had thought of the idea, even though it was almost embarrassingly cheesy. Chan was often hard on himself, overly critical, and sometimes insecure. You tried your best to reassure him that he was doing well, both in his career and personal life, but you weren’t always able to be with him to do it in person.

As time goes by, your dread just continues to build, but you don't dare look up, not wanting to see Chan's reaction. Based on the silence, he’s clearly not thrilled with the silly idea that you had gone with. You can almost imagine his expression, jaw clenched and lips pressed together as he tries to think of what he can say to let you down easy.

Finally, you can't take it any longer and you lean forward, reaching out to grab at the cards that he's still reading though.

“I'm sorry, it's stupid, I know,” you say quickly. “You can tell me that you hate it, it's okay. I don't know what I was thinking, but just- give me more time, I'll get you something else, something nicer-”

It catches Chan off guard, and instead of successfully taking the cards away, you grapple with them for a second before they slip between both of your hands, scattering across the floor like confetti.

You instantly drop to your knees, scrabbling to scoop them up like the most awful game of 52 pick up that you've ever played in your life. To your horror, the task gets even more difficult as tears start to well up in your eyes.

“Y/n-” Chan says gently, reaching out and taking your wrists in his hands to stop your frantic movements. “Come here.”

You resist for a moment, but he pulls you into his arms, cradling your head so your face is resting on his shoulder. The tears leaking from your eyes soak into the fabric and you sniffle softly.

“I'm sorry,” you say, voice partially muffled. “I'm a mess.”

In response, Chan pulls back slightly and when you don't turn towards him, he taps a finger against your cheek until you face him. Your eyes widen when you notice that he also has tear tracks streaking down his face.

“What-”

“It's okay, I'm a mess too. I should have said it sooner,” he says, voice low and gravelly. Still in his embrace, you can feel the rumble of it in his chest. “I love it. I was overwhelmed, I wanted to say something but you left me speechless.”

“Don't just say it-”

“I've never had a gift so thoughtful, Y/n,” Chan says earnestly. “How could you think this was stupid? You must have spent hours and hours on it and I really appreciate it. It’s just- is this really what you think of me?”

“What do you mean?” you ask.

“Do you really love that-” Chan picks up the closest card to him and flips it so that he can read the message. “That I snore? Y/n, why do you even have this in the list?”

“Yes, snoring was one thing and it's because with everything, there’s always a reason to love it. It's not that I love that you snore, but with your insomnia, hearing you snore is a relief because it means you're sleeping, that you're resting. Even with your insomnia, I know you're busy thinking of every little way you can make things just right for you and the members. It's because you care so much, how could I not love these parts of you?”

“You- you really love all these little things?”

“Of course I do,” you say in a hushed voice. “Of course. When I was making these, I couldn't fit it all. I love everything about you, Chan.”

This time, it's Chan that breaks eye contact, shaking his head as if in disbelief.

“I don't know what I did to deserve you.”

“It's not about deserving. You didn't have to do anything, that's the whole point. I love you just as you are.”

“You know that's how I feel about you, right?”

“Chan-”

“Even if you never got me anything ever again, I wouldn't love you any less. You being in my life, by my side, that's the greatest gift you could ever give.”

till death do us part collection | read it on ao3 | masterlist

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jijidraws · 3 months

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#jijidraws #body positive art #artists on tumblr #art only #done for patreon #patreon artist #shop small #mermaid art #bat girl #oc #original character #procreate

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eideticallys · 1 year

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Who Needs Time Management When I Have You?

pairing: spencer reid x reader

summary: one of the many perks of having a boyfriend with flawless memory is that you do not have to remember stuff—he remembers them for you.

genre: tooth-rotting domestic fluff

word count: 1.5k

author's notes: i wrote this because domestic!spencer reid is a guilty pleasure of mine. i can definitely picture him as an attentive boyfriend because aside from the fact that he has flawless memory, he's an overall caring guy. with that said, i hope you'll enjoy reading this as much as i enjoyed writing this! also posted on ao3 (spencereids).

ONE OF THE MANY PERKS OF HAVING A BOYFRIEND WITH FLAWLESS MEMORY IS THAT YOU DO NOT HAVE TO REMEMBER STUFF—HE REMEMBERS THEM FOR YOU. Do you have a dentist's appointment at 9? Covered. He will be waking you up at 7 with breakfast in bed. Your sister’s birthday is coming up. No worries! He has already ordered a bouquet ready to be sent on the day. It is amazing, and you thank your lucky stars for him every morning when you wake up and see him cozily sleeping beside you.

However, you were out of luck on the boyfriend angle today. You had your monthly—or if the BAU is free—girls' night scheduled tonight. As much as you enjoy having girls' nights with the BAU girls, Spencer also likes to spend some time out with the guys for a nightcap or something, whatever the men at the BAU enjoy when there is no case. And that means, your boyfriend is busy getting ready to go out as well. Although Spencer has never forgotten a thing in his life—even when he is on the brink of life and death—you do not want to stress him out even more by asking him what you think you have forgotten to prepare.

So, today when you were running around the house like a madman trying to collect the stuff you need to bring to Garcia’s for girls' night, you have no one else to blame but yourself. You have depended on your boyfriend to remember stuff for you that you always leave the preparation at the very last minute. At the moment, you believe you’ve never hated yourself as much as you did now, which is quite the feat considering that you’ve hated yourself a lot before for chickening out on confessing your feelings to boy wonder—your boyfriend, Spencer Reid—only to find out he shares the same feelings.

Scratch that, you hate your boyfriend right now more than you hate yourself.

Currently, that same boyfriend has been snickering nonstop at you dashing left and right and gathering the things you need to bring. Face masks? Check. Wine? Check. What else were you forgetting?

“You know, there’s this study that says only 82% of people have a time management system.”

Your ever-loving boyfriend, Spencer, decided to share. You were about to chuck the throw pillow at him because you could hear the I told you so in his voice, but you knew his fact-sharing and nagging was his unique way of saying, “I love you, but you could’ve remedied this problem by preparing the stuff you’ll need the night before.”

“No, I don’t, Spence. But, do tell.”

At this point, you’re pretty sure Spencer was sporting a shit-eating grin and was probably holding in a laugh at the strain in your voice from recalling whether you’ve got everything so you can head over to Garcia’s. You’re pretty sure Garcia is about to talk your ear off if you’re running late. You missed out on the last girls' night after you bailed on them, wanting to spend the night with Spencer, watching Star Wars, and eating takeout.

“There's a survey done recently which revealed that 90% of people say better time management can lead to increased productivity.” Spencer started explaining, hands waving around as if to demonstrate the numbers in front of him. “However, only 18% of people have a proper time management system.”

“And?”

“Well, it just reminded me of you.” Spencer pursed his lips now, as he tried to explain his thoughts without annoying you. “If you just had a proper time management system like a to-do list or a planner. You could save at least..” He stared at his watch and did the math, “You could save at least one hour and forty-three minutes of your time instead of panicking over whether you got all the things you need for girls' night.”

“I don’t need that when I have you. Don’t you think so?”

This made your boyfriend blush, and you giggled, heading towards his direction, so you could wrap your hands around his waist and bury your face into his chest. You were the luckiest person alive for getting to date someone as wonderful as Spencer.

What you just said would not have made anyone flush and nervous, but Spencer was different. You knew he’s never been in a formal relationship with anyone before you. Thus, from time to time, he still gets embarrassed by your antics which you’ll always be endeared by. You live to see your boyfriend getting flustered because it gives you a reason to shower him with affection like now.

“I love you too, Spence.”

You looked up at your boyfriend, who looked like he was about to burst from your directness. You and he may deal with a lot of blood and gore during work, but he can be the most fainthearted person alive when it came to your affections.

“B-but I didn’t say I love you..” He trailed off, confused as to why you were suddenly proclaiming your love for him. You grinned even more as you pinched the tip of his nose.

“You didn’t have to, Spence. I know your nagging is one way of you saying you love me, and I love you for that.”

Spencer scrunched his nose and rubbed the back of his neck out of shyness. If you could keep him in your pocket for safekeeping, you would. He’s just too precious for this world.

“But, as much as I love you, I know just as much that Penelope will have my ass kicked by Emily if I get to her house late,” you broke free from your boyfriend’s comfy arms, checking the bags you packed while doing so. “I have to go, baby. I think I got everything I need.”

Picking up your bag and care package, you ruffled your boyfriend’s brown locks, which made him frown a bit and sigh. You snickered at his reaction and proceeded to walk towards the front door. You were about to reach the staircase just outside your shared apartment when you realized something.

You forgot your car keys.

Berating yourself in your head, you were certain once you entered that door, Spencer would be on your case like a mother duck. He can be too fretful when it comes to you. Oh well, that is one thing you love about him. Huffing, you slowly turned the doorknob and found Spencer leaning on the wall just inside the door with his arms crossed, looking at you smugly. You rolled your eyes.

One thing about Spencer Reid is he can be a cocky little shit when proven right. And that happens most—if not all—the time, with his IQ of 187 and eidetic memory. Unfortunately for him, he also happened to date a cocky little shit—you—who likes to fluster the living lights out of him. And right now, you just thought of the perfect way to get back at him.

But first, your car keys. Spencer next.

Once you have retrieved the pesky item—like it’s the car keys’ fault, you forgot to get them—you turned towards the door, not paying any attention to your boyfriend, who was already cracking up at you. Only when you’ve reached the door, your back towards Spencer, did you smirk. Oh, he’ll never know what’s coming to him. You did a U-turn and

“Forgot something, sweetheart?”

“Why, yes I did, Dr. Reid,” you stated plainly, beelining towards him, making him take a few steps back until he ended up with his back against the wall. He's so easy to fluster. "I forgot to do this."

You slanted your head and pressed your lips against his. Your bodies were snug against each other as you kissed heatedly against the wall. You could feel the flutter of his long lashes against your cheeks as he parted his lips slightly to kiss you deeper. You could taste your shared breath, smell his faint perfume, and feel the slight scruff of a stubble about to show up. Warmth blossomed in your chest when you felt Spencer caress your face as if you were fine porcelain.

Kissing Spencer Reid never gets old in your books. Despite his lack of romantic experience and being the eager researcher that he was, Spencer was an eager lover—he would kiss you every chance he'd get to know how to please you, which paid off, by the way. This may be a biased opinion but you think the best kisses you have shared were with Spencer.

However, like all good things, kissing Spencer has to end, or Garcia will have you banned from her house for running late.

You pulled away from Spencer and grinned at him, to which he returned with a stunned smile. You chuckled when you noticed your lipstick smudged on the corner of his lips and brushed a finger to erase it. You wouldn't want your boyfriend to be the subject of Morgan's teasing once they're together after this. Noticing the daze your boyfriend is under is about to wear off, and he was about to say something, you beat him to it by pressing a smooch on his nose and pulling away completely.

"I gotta go, Dr. Reid. Don't miss me too much!"

You scampered towards the door and shot a wink at your bewildered boyfriend—who was now sputtering in indignation for interrupting what he was about to say. He is so cute.

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diejager · 6 months

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Idk if anyone’s written this yet, but I am craving some professional sex worker!reader. cw: smut, sex work, prostitution, OnlyFans, tell me if I missed any.

Soap just happened to find out your little account, the profile image so salaciously tempting with your big, doe eyes, small smile and lacy lingerie. Seated on your bed, you pushed your chest out, showing how your lacy bra made your tits perk up through the sheer camisole, teasing him with a taste of something he couldn’t get, and spread your legs open, revealing your black, floral panty with a garter belt keeping your pretty stockings up your thighs to the camera. You looked so innocent in that attire, a little angel dressed in black, just as your profile name —Seraphim.

He was hooked on the first second, quickly clicking to see more of you. Your subscription was free, to let him have a taste of what was waiting for him behind the paywall of different memberships with pictures of your covered cunt, breasts pushed outwards, sunbathing under the sun and laying belly up while staring at the camera with a pout. He was painfully hard in his briefs, staring at his phone, he needed to see more, he had to at this point when you sunk your fingers so deeply in his psyche.

Without wasting another second, he quickly tapped on the highest membership you had, deciding to pay you monthly for everything you had, and coincidentally, you were live. He felt his cock jump when he caught sight of you, naked and bouncing on a dildo, thick and veiny that curved enough to hit your cervix. His appearance seemed to get your attention, the soft ping of your computer alerting you of a new viewer. You smiled, sweet and delicious, calling out the username he hastily came up with, never once stopping as you spoke breathily, gasping and mewling to the screen.

“Oh! Hi SexiSoap. I hope you’ll enjoy your first live.”

He almost came in his pants, his cock throbbing painfully, the head leaking copious amount of pre. He couldn’t stop himself from replying to you, watching your eyes gleam with excitement when you saw his shyly written Hi, boonie, hips stuttering and bucking sloppily against the round base on the silicone dick. He wished that was him, he wished he was the one you were riding, his cock that you milked and came over.

Ghostie: Cum, love.

He was so drawn by you that he nearly missed those words from a suspiciously familiar name, he wasn’t sure if it were Ghost, but the love in the end only solidified his suspicion. It drove both you and him wild, you let out a cry as you came, thighs jerking as you slumped forward, back arched and ass up; and Soap with feral jealousy and hunger. He hadn’t even realized he came untouched, a wet spot growing on his pants.

After you waved everyone good night, stream ending and Soap panting hotly, he sluggishly cleaned himself up, changing pants and laying on his bed, mind wandering to your body sprawled in every position.

Knock knock

He jumped at the loud knocks, heavy and quick, impatiently waiting for him to answer the door.

“Aye, aye, A’m coming,” he unlocked the door to a black wall, eyes moving up to see a skull-painted balaclava and brown eyes —it was Ghost. “Hey, LT-”

“SexiSoap, huh?”

Soap froze up, his mind going through all the what ifs scenario and how he’d explain to Ghost how he came to find your account. SO he did the one thing he did best, smile and shoot back:

“Ghostie, yeah? Real original, LT.”

Part 2

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shipwreckie · 10 days

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long (like ridiculously long) rant about watcher entertainment

Whilst the vast majority of the response to the watcher drama has been negative I still have seen a few people expressing opinions along the lines of ‘oh its just $6’ ‘shouldn't creators be paid for their work’ etc. I also think this situation is getting a lot of attention from people who don't necessarily watch Watcher, or haven’t keep up with them in years so here is my breakdown of why people are unhappy with the announcement that Watcher will be putting ALL upcoming content behind a $6 a month streaming service (with the exception of the premiere episode of each season going to Youtube.)

The issue is not that it's $6.

The success of other internet companies like dropout and smosh is proof people are willing to pay for content they enjoy and to support independent content creators. I personally have given money to kickstarters, patreons, digital downloads etc in the past. But I do that because I know I’m valued as a fan with and without my money. I still get access to content on youtube for free. Even Dropout, who is a much larger and more expensive operation than Watcher, releasing 5 show a week, still maintains a steady Youtube presence.

The thing with these internet companies is they can be successful in creating something but they do have to understand that you are on the internet. You're not netflix or HBO or hulu or whatever. Watcher’s obsession with creating ‘television-calibre content’ worth $6 a month whilst also only having one show a week is unrealistic. They want to be independent creators but also television producers… but you’re not! They hate being youtubers so much but YOU ARE. That’s how you gained a fanbase in the first place and you were successful at it! If you’re not happy being a youtuber that’s fine, move on and do something else. But you can’t expect it to be funded by the fans. So many famous artists create content they care less about that has a larger audience, and that in turn funds the stuff they DO care about. If you’re so dedicated to making expensive, high-quality productions you should be using these smaller cheaper shows to save money and fund them, rather than forcing everyone of your fans to pay a monthly subscription fee that I’m sorry, just isnt worth it or is simply unaffordable for the majority of your audience who you have now essentially told aren’t welcome or valued by you. And which one is it?

Such a large percentage of your audience are casual viewers too. Why cut out that completely? What fans are you expecting to follow you to this ? Your most dedicated fans are there because they like Ryan and Shane, so why not push that? Are you trying to appeal to your fans or are you trying to make the content you want. There’s no clear creative direction that makes sense with this move and that’s why people aren’t supporting you.

Also I’m sorry but how can we suddenly trust the content is gonna improve once we start funding it when there’s already been so many missteps both in their content and their business. Look at how many fans have said Ghost Files and Mystery Files have started feeling phoned in. Their patreon has been mismanaged for years, they barely promote it and the perks on there aren't really worth it (but they have 6000 paying members because people can and do want to support them!). They go months having barely any merch. There are ways to make money on youtube, they’re just not doing it well .

And I’m sorry. But there is just absolutely no reason to have 25 employees. Shows like Survival mode should be cheap and easy to produce, and help bring in money to support larger ventures like ghost files. So why are there 18 people credited for a video of you playing Minecraft? And of course I don’t want people to lose their jobs. But continuing with this is going to cause EVERYONE to lose their jobs regardless.

They also barely have a plan for their new content. People watch for Ryan and Shane, you KNOW THAT. So why is your first new big show hiring the worth it boys and doing a globe-trotting, crazily expensive show. Are you even really expanding your content if you’re still sticking to a one-video-a-week schedule with no present plan to change that? They have a survey for subscribers to vote which past show to bring back, but there’s obviously a major budget difference between filming something like Weird Wonderful World and something like SD&D&D… or at least there should be but there isn't when you employ 20 people to make one video. There’s such a clear lack of thought put into it that makes me even less likely to want to support.

I want to say that they probably expected a negative backlash and thought they could just wait it out… but did they? Because WHY did they hype this up like it was an insane new announcement fans would go wild for. WHY do this several days before you have live shows where you let fans ask questions live to your faces? So much of this roll out makes absolutely no sense and makes Ryan, Shane, and Steve look so ridiculously out-of-touch with their fanbase, which only makes fans feel even less supportive.

I think their defenders think we want to see Watcher crash and burn but the majority of us don't. I want them to be successful but this isn't the way to do it and I truly do believe it’s going to ruin their company. Unfortunately as much as I love them, I wont be supporting them.

#watcher #watcher entertainment #ryan bergara #shane madej #steven lim #buzzfeed unsolved #ghost files #mystery files #seriously though... what the hell #i dont even use tumblr anymore but i just had to get my thoughts out #sorry i don’t know how to do the read more function i haven’t properly used tumblr since 2016

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