This is for the @steddiemicrofic July Week one prompt "three" | wc: 333 | cw: implied violence | rating: G
summary: Eddie shows up at Steve's house in the rain.
AO3
Steve sips his hot chocolate, happily watching the rain fall outside.
A bright flash of lightening flashes across the sky, followed immediately by a window shattering crash of thunder.
His tranquility is disturbed by frantic knocking.
Immediately, Steve's hackles rise. No one should be stopping by, definitely not in this storm. He grabs his nailbat from the hall closet before glancing through the peep hole.
On the other side, is a wide eyed and soaking wet Eddie. Steve yanks the door open, confusion written all over his face. He gave his boyfriend a spare key, weeks ago.
“Eddie what the—” he begins.
Eddie pushes past, slams the door shut, and locks it. He glances around and pulls the nearby table in front for good measure.
Before he can ask, Steve finally gets a good look at the other man. What he sees, feels like a knife to the gut.
Bruises bloom along Eddie's face, blood and snot drips from his nose. Tears sit unshed in his eyes. They fall as soon as Steve softly cups his cheek.
“How many were there?” He asks. This isn't the first time Eddie's shown up like this and Steve doubts it'll be the last.
“Only three this time,” Eddie shrugs, like it's not a big deal.
“Eds,” Steve sighs, but doesn’t say anything else. There’s no point right now.
Silently, Steve takes Eddie's hand and leads him to his bathroom.
Slowly, he strips them of their clothes, rubbing warmth back into Eddie’s chilled skin before pulling him into the shower.
After, he applies antiseptic to his cuts, cream to his bruises, and soft kisses to his lips.
Laying in bed, he holds Eddie close, letting him cry until he succumbs to sleep.
Steve stares at the ceiling for hours.
Three times.
Three times in three weeks that Eddie’s arrived beaten and bloody.
Steve needs to do something to protect his boyfriend. Looking down at the sleeping man, Steve decides he’s getting Eddie out of this town.
tw: mentions and themes of depression, showering together (no smut!), fluffffff
another sob wracks your body, choking on your sharp inhales. you couldn’t tell the difference between your tears and the shower water anymore. matt’s arms stay tightly wrapped around you, whispering sweet nothings into your ear and pressing kisses to your shoulder, trying to soothe you. you stay leaned against him, your back pressed to his chest.
you’re clutching one of his forearms, leaving small red lines behind from your nails accidentally digging into his skin. it helped ground you, and he knew you didn’t know you were doing it. “shhhh, shh baby you’re ok, it’s ok” he kept repeating in a mantra, trying to help you settle. he kissed your temple, noticing how badly you’re shaking in his arms.
he’d been trying to coach you through breathing exercises and other distractions, but eventually gave up because you couldn’t focus. he resorted to just being comforting and offering anything you needed from him. your tears had blurred your vision. you move, and he loosens his grip on you so you can do as you please.
you shift so your facing him, your legs laying over his until you were chest to chest. your wrap your arms around his neck, hiding your face in his chest as another sob breaks through. he wraps his arms back around your trembling form, water beating down in your back. he kisses the top of your head, pulling you impossibly closer.
after nearly a half hour, the sobs slowly die. they fade into silent tears with the occasional ghost of your cries coming back to stagger your breaths. he helps you out, drying you off as you just stand there, letting him assist you, feeling pathetic. he wraps the fluffy towel around you once he’s content your dry enough, kissing you sweetly as he does. your eyes were still watery, threatening to spill over any second.
he dries himself off, leading you back to his room. he pulls a hoodie over your head and helps you step into panties and shorts. he kisses you again as he finishes, pulling on boxers and a tee shirt himself. he knows when you get like this, which is too often for his liking, that you often go non verbal for a few hours after. so he lets you stay quiet, knowing he’ll get the full story of what set you off in the morning.
you lay down, curling up under the sheets, frozen from the shock of the cold air after the warm water. matt lays down as well, wrapping you in his arms, not wanting you to feel alone. you snuggle closer, pressing your nose to the crook of his neck. his hands comb through your wet hair, whispering soft praise. the exhaustion of your crying catches up to you, your reddened eyes growing heavy. matt kisses your head, and you shuffle closer. he swears he heard the smallest love you mumbled out before you fall into deep rest.
i wish i had a matt. can you guys tell i love the idea of showering together? it’s so cute. send me suggestions! ily guys sm ~ bree 🖤🍁
tag list: @whore4chris @chrischerrycola @challengers4ev @abiiialt
Summary: When your boyfriend Charlie has to go do Charlie Work at Paddy's, you feel bad for him and offer to help. Little do you know how gross things can get. Thankfully, after all is said and done at the bar, you have some decompress time with your love in the form of a shower.
Word Count: 2.5k
7:48 am
ON A TUESDAY
PHILADELPHIA
“Charlie, what in God’s name are you doing up so early?” It wasn’t unusual for you to be up and sipping coffee at such an early hour, but whenever you see your boyfriend peel himself off your sheets at such an hour, you can’t help but worry the world was ending. The only times he woke up this early were for a tailgate or some stupid plan The Gang made. From the kitchen counter you were perched at, you spotted your scraggly boyfriend trudging around the living room, looking half-dead.
“The guys need me to do Charlie work today.” Charlie groaned, sounding like a child dreading his day at middle school. His hair was haphazardly pointing in every direction, and you couldn’t help but compare him to a troll doll in your mind. Suppressing a soft chuckle, your feet absentmindedly made their way over to Charlie, hand gently reaching up to smooth his hair. You were accustomed to his unkempt look; you even found it endearing in many ways. Charlie was the only person whom you believed could make the homeless look attractive. However, this was also one of the reasons you were initially hesitant to introduce Charlie to your slightly judgmental friends. Thankfully, you didn’t see them much anymore as you’ve slowly been implemented more and more into The Gang’s antics. To an outsider, this may sound like a downgrade, but truly, it was for the best.
“Really? I can’t wait a few more hours?” You lazily rub his arm in comfort, watching how his eyes slowly open and close, Charlie still clearly half asleep. “Charlie, you look like shit.”
“Nah, Frank is throwing some kind of gambling event and needs the place cleaned for his Vietnamese friends or something.” Charlie quickly lowers his head to kiss you in a small apology. One perk of dating Charlie was that, given his nature, you never needed to be self-conscious about your morning breath.
“That should’ve been my first guess.” You roll your eyes, used to the ridiculous hobbies of The Gang and how it typically resulted in your boyfriend getting the short end of the stick. This lament quickly struck an idea in your mind, “Charlie, could I help you today? Y’know, maybe make the work go by faster?”
It didn’t take more than five seconds for Charlie to be snapped out of his sleepy coma and get a burst of energy, “Wait that’s an awesome idea! Do you really wanna?” He looked like a child on Christmas; you didn’t even need to bat your eyelashes for him to immediately indulge in your suggestion. Yet another endearing characteristic of his.
“Yeah, sure. I mean, if you do this ‘Charlie Work’ almost every day, it can’t be that bad, right?” How ignorant and stupid you were. You would very soon regret sparking the idea of helping entirely.
Now here you were, standing outside of Paddy’s restrooms with Charlie, preparing for battle. Before entering the bathroom, Charlie made you ‘gear up’, which was essentially just a trash bag he cut holes into so you could wear it like a tunic, a bandana to keep your hair back, and a pair of worn rubber gloves.
“Charlie, I feel like I’m getting ready to go to Chernobyl.”
“Yeah, that’s basically the idea.” Charlie, unlike you, was just completely raw dogging this mission; the only ‘gear’ he was using was gloves. You asked why you were so bundled, and all he said was that it was ‘for your protection’. His reason was sweet, but unnerving.
“Okay, rules before we go in. If you need to plug your nose, just start mouth breathing. Do not use your hands with the gloves, it only makes it worse. Personal experience.” He shivers slightly with a forlorn look in his eye before shaking out of it and continuing. “Don’t get too into the whole ‘cleaning aspect’ of it, it will be dirty again in 2 days. Fix and leave. Also, stay AWAY from the splash zone, the splash zone is bad.” Charlie listed all of these rules as if he were sorting through a preconceived mental list.
“Splash zone?”
“Just stay behind me. You’ll be fine, probably.” All of this made it seem like Charlie was preparing you for torrential warfare rather than a simple plumbing issue. After five more minutes of Charlie rambling and you half-listening while staring at his surprisingly serious face, you move in.
Immediately, you were hit with a giant whiff of God knows what. The stench was so foul you didn’t even know how to describe it. “Oh my God! Charlie, this is absolutely disgusting.” You complain, staring dreadfully at the clogged urinal. Charlie approaches the mess.
“A plunger is a man’s best friend, babe!”
“Who the hell shits in a urinal?!”
“It’s a bar bathroom, we keep questions to the minimum.” With a disgruntled look on your face, you stay a solid five feet away from the warzone, hazily watching Charlie approach the mess. After ten minutes of Charlie’s fruitless plunging, nothing happens.
“Shit, alright. Guess we gotta go inside.”
“Inside?! Dear God, you are not referring to the sewers, Charlie, because that is the one place I will not follow you, and you know that.” You were aware of your darling boyfriend's hobbies, and as much as you loved him and supported his interests, you stayed away from the sewage.
“Nah, we just gotta like get in the pipes.” Charlie moved in closer, staring at the pipes around the urinal. “Yeah, okay, you know this like curvy one right here? Yeah, that’s probably important for this… situation… probably.” You were almost positive he was just trying to impress you and had absolutely no idea what he was looking at. As Charlie moved around the pipes, you could tell he was trying to flex his muscles, attempting to make fixing a urinal sexy. It was cute. Suddenly, Charlie stood up straight and cracked his knuckles like a true professional. “Alright! Grab the wrench, babe!”
Hesitantly, you fulfill Charlie’s request and gingerly hand over the tool. “Are you sure you know what you’re doing?”
“Yeah, how hard could it be? I think if a guy who purposely jumps and hits his head on mystery boxes can do it, I can.”
“Charlie, are you seriously referencing Mario? The Italian fictional plumber who, may I remind you, is fictional?” Your question goes unanswered as Charlie begins to loosen random screws and pipes. Unsurprisingly, after he loosens a rather important-looking pipe, water begins shooting around the entire room.
Charlie quickly pulls you away from the stream of water erupting from the now more broken urinal. “Oh SHIT!” His hands rest on your waist above the trash bag, holding you close to him. “OK, IF YOU SEE ANY GOOMBAS DON’T PANIC.”
“Charlie, what THE FUCK ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT?!” You yell, trying to put as much distance between you and the shit water as possible in such a small space. Charlie was clearly on edge, but obviously not that concerned with the situation at hand, considering he was now attempting to grab a handful of your ass above the trash bag. “Charlie?! Now is not the time!” You scream, alerting your boyfriend once again of his existence, springing him into action.
“OK! I’m going to need your hand.” Charlie turns to you, dead serious. Trusting your boyfriend, you raise your hand out to him, which he grabs and swiftly uses to ‘plug’ the hole.
“GOD DAMN IT, CHARLIE THIS IS DISGUSTING.” You try to take your hand back, but Charlie keeps it over the hole, unsuccessfully limiting the water spewing out.
“Look, you stay here and I’ll grab duct tape, it’ll take like two seconds, I promise!” Charlie is slowly backing out of the room, making sure you won’t move from your spot.
“Fine! Go! Jesus, you’re lucky I love you...” You grimace at the water slowly drenching your arm.
“You’re my Princess Peach, babe!” Charlie yells, running out of the bathroom in search of tape.
“And stop with the Goddamn Mario analogy!” You scream back, not sure if he could even hear you. It took only a few minutes for Charlie to come back, appearing all frazzled and dazed.
“Okay, so, no duct tape, I think Frank and Artemis used the last of it, BUT I have these!” Charlie holds up a small roll of scotch tape and gorilla glue. “I think if I like think really hard and use my brain, I could fix this.”
“That’s great, babe. I’m very proud of you, but how the hell are you going to use those to fix this?” You gesture to the pipe that is still actively spraying water everywhere, something you’ve given up on caring about.
“Leave it to me, Princess.” Charlie gives you a wink with a giant cheesy smile, something you rolled your eyes at, but not without the accompaniment of a genuine smile. He was a stupid idiot, but he was your stupid idiot.
It took half an hour of trial and error, but by luck, the two of you were able to fix the leak, and in the process, also fix the plumbing. So now here you sit at a high-top table, drenched and disgusting, and just a tiny bit accomplished. You sipped your beer, “Well Charlie, I didn’t think we’d ever do it, but we did. Cheers.” Your bottles make a satisfying clink before you take another swig.
“Yup! You were a great help back there, babe! It’s nice to have someone around to do the work with me.” A goofy grin is on his face, and you smile back, pleased.
“Well I must say, it was definitely interesting to take a glimpse into the Charlie work world.” You stretch your arms up, hearing a satisfying pop from your back. “I gotta be honest though, I don’t know how you do it, you’re a real champ. I can’t wait to go back home and shower.”
“Ahh yeah, that’ll feel great for you after all the sawdust and asbestos and stuff, that shit gets everywhere.” Charlie casually replies.
You do a double-take on your boyfriend, who has and will not elaborate. “I’m sorry, what?”
“Oh yeah, we’re not done yet! We still gotta get the rats inside the walls.”
“...How?”
“By going inside the walls, duh.” He laughs a little bit, clearly not understanding your disbelief. “How else are you supposed to get the little critters from in there?” You can only muster a stare. Charlie work sucks.
—
You finally made it home, somehow surviving the day. You applaud your boyfriend for being such a trooper about these jobs, but personally, if you were him, you would now realize you’d quit on the spot. It amazed you how such high spirits he had after such a long day, skipping next to you on your walk back to your apartment while he happily rants about something on not understanding fruit. Typical Charlie banter.
The stairs leading to your apartment took the last of your energy out of you. All you wanted to do was crash on your bed, but there was no way in hell you were ruining your sheets with your dirtiness. Charlie, ever the doting boyfriend, could sense this instantly. “You gonna shower before bed?” He tilts his head in a dog-like manner.
“Yeah, I feel like I could pass out on the spot, but it’s kinda necessary at this point.” He nods as you start towards the bathroom. Before entering the tiled room, you call out, “You have to shower too if you want bed privileges tonight!”
“Aww…” You hear him pout. As you walk into the bathroom, you then hear Charlie call out after a quick pause, “Shower together?” You simply stopped and poked your arm out of the bathroom to gesture him over. You weren’t looking at Charlie at the time, but you understand him well enough to know he was doing his little victory dance. The shower was intimate, but not sexual. Sure, there were plenty of times where it had developed into something explicit, but this time you were simply taking in each other's presence.
Charlie worked his fingers through your hair, lathering the shampoo through it. Sometimes he’d like to style your hair with the suds in fun ways, but more often than not, this only results in knots forming. A small price to pay for Charlie’s silliness. You hum as he preens you and soothingly massages your head. Your favorite part of Charlie was his ability to be so eccentric at times, but also so soft and sweet.
It was now your turn to wash him, despite some small complaints from his end. You wet a washcloth in the warm stream of water and pour some of your favorite body wash. You knew Charlie loved the smell of it, which was part of why it was your favorite. The soap was now foaming up as you drag the cloth up and down his arms, working away at the cumulative dirt on his skin. As you work away, Charlie begins his usual rambles.
“Maybe that should be our Halloween costume.”
“What costumes, dear?”
“Mario and Peach.” Of course he was still going on about that. You giggle, motioning for him to turn around so you can rub his back.
“Hmm, I dunno, babe.” You tease, noticing how tense his muscles were, likely from work.
“You don’t know?” Charlie seems confused for a second, which delves into bliss when you abandon the cloth to lovingly massage the knots in his back.
“I mean, sure, Mario and Peach are iconic, but I think she and Bowser are the real power duo there. Plus, they’re definitely smashing on the downlow.” Charlie’s back visibly relaxes under your touch.
“I guess that’d make sense why she’s always letting him kidnap her…” Charlie pretended to ponder for a second before turning back around to you. “Alright, Bowser and Peach it is.” You gently smile, rinsing off the remainder of the suds before grabbing a fluffy towel to dry your boy off.
After what seemed like a grueling day, you were finally back in your soft bed, eyes fighting sleep. Charlie instantly got comfortable, bear-hugging you from the side, head resting almost directly on your tits. “Thanks for the help today, babe.” He yawns, “It was nice having a partner in crime for my chores.”
“Anytime, Charlie.” You rub his back as sleep overtakes you, hoping you never have to do such work ever again, but knowing you’d do it again in a heartbeat for him.
summary: taking a lovely shower with your lovely boyfriend aka spencer reid going crazy for you washing his hair
warnings: pure teeth rotting fluff
wordcount: 700 words
a/n: so this is inspire by this post! i loved writing this and i am quite happy with how it turned out. it's not perfect but it's late, i'm tired but happy and i wanted to post it today! so enjoy <3
„Can I join you?”
“Hm?” Spencer asked from inside the shower, his head peaking out from behind the shower
curtain.
“Can I join you?” you repeat.
“In the shower?”
“Yes, of course in the shower, you silly,” you let out a giggle at his expression. Furrowed eyebrows and eyes like a dear caught in headlights.
After a moment he snapped out of it. “Uhm- yea, of course”
You didn’t need more convincing and swiftly shed your clothing. Stepping into the shower with Spencer, he stepped aside so you could get under the warm stream. You could feel the insecurity practically radiating off Spencer, so you made the first stepped and wrapped your arms around him, engulfing him into a warm hug, your arms meeting behind his head. Your boyfriend immediately relaxes into your hold, his hands instinctively wrapping around your waist.
“Well, hello there pretty boy,” you whisper against his lips before finally connecting them and kissing him.
Not wanting this to go further you lean back again, tracing a droplet of water that made its way over his face with your finger. Spencer still had his eyes closed from the kiss, his head now slightly leaning back and enjoying your gentle touches. He would gladly entertain this as long as you kept your hands on him.
He opened his eyes again, leaned forward and placed a short but lingering kiss on your lips. With gentle hands he led you under the stream again, before reaching for his bottle of shampoo. You quickly noticed what he was about to do and interrupted him with a quick wait!
He looked at you, puzzled. “Let me,” you tell him with a smile on your face.
You grab the bottle of shampoo out of the genius’ hand before squeezing a generous amount of it into your hand, softly lathering it up in your hands, before letting them glide though his brown locks.
Spencer couldn’t believe that something so simple, so mundane and casual could be this intimate and could feel oh so good. He couldn’t remember a time where washing his hair felt like something that connected you two, that made him really feel the connection between you.
Your hands felt heavenly in his hair, softly massaging the shampoo into his scalp. Spencer had closed his eyes again, only letting out a sigh in surprise when you start placing soft little kisses all over his wet face, your hands never halting their motion in his hair. He occasionally let out little groans – especially when you slightly pulled on certain strands of his hair – but also didn’t complain when you pull him under the warm spray of the shower to wash out the shampoo.
Still, he was almost sad about the fact that you would have to leave the shower and this perfect moment soon.
Thankfully, you reached for his bottle of conditioner, repeating your little routine or what Spencer strongly hoped would become one. The whole time he felt like he was floating, already in heaven, with your hands in his hair and your lips on his face.
This feeling only intensified when you took his bar of soap and slowly started to lather up his body with the most gentle hands. They wandered over his arms, into his armpits, over his torso, the top of his thighs and after just as gently turning him around also over his back.
Your boyfriend turned around again, and when you pulled him under the water to rinse off the soap, you pressed yourself against him, making him chuckle.
Now, he couldn’t just let your time stop here. He insisted on doing the same thing for you. With quiet whispered instructions and just as many sweet nothings, he managed to follow your hair care routine, definitely taking inspiration from you when he also started leaving kisses on your face.
When it was time to leave his new safe heaven, he wasn’t quite as sad anymore. He only thought about the fact that he got to curl up with you under the comforter now and hold you in his arms again.
And maybe, just maybe, take a shower with you again, tomorrow.
a/n: i hope you liked this, if so please leave some notes, likes, reblogs and comments! feedback is very appreciated! i’d like to write more with criminal minds characters, so if you have any ideas/requests lmk!!
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Small blurb, nice and chill compared to the last smut piece I wrote
TW: Shower “sex”, handjob, markings, head(f receiving), Mommy Kink, fluffy smut if you will
We’re in the shower, soft pelting of water droplets falling on our naked bodies. He’s taking the brunt of it as we face each other, a picture perfect scene of intimacy.
“Put your hand out” I say. He extends his hands as I pour shampoo into his palm.
“Do me a favor and wash my hair for me sweetheart” I whisper in his ear, barely audible with the shower, yet still causing him to shiver.
Our bodies tense as he starts scrubbing the shampoo into my hair before I fully relax. The sensation so incredibly blissful. I can feel that delicious tingle between my legs start to grow.
“Don’t stop” my tone warm, steady as I start kissing and biting at his neck. We hold each other, our bodies being the only thing keeping us from falling to the floor. His breathy moans make me swoon as he has a harder time remembering to keep following my simple command.
His head massages just feel so fucking good, so I have to return the favor. I slowing move my hands down his body, groping and massaging his tender skin until nothing but pleasure fills his brain. That sweet dopey look ever present on his face. So enamored by me.
I finally reach where we’ve both been yearning to touch. Wrapping my hand around his dick, he pleads and moans my name, chanting it like it’s a prayer. My lips doing a number on his neck.
Between blubbering, he says the most shocking thing.
“M-mmommy……mommy please….let me rinse out the shampoo…”
I pause my actions, smiling into his shoulder.
“Always so caring sweetheart, working so hard to clean Mommy while she makes you all dirty.”
I squeeze his dick before stroking faster.
“Let me finish what I’ve started darling, then we can focus on getting clean together”
I smash my lips into his, biting hard, the strokes matching the pace of his thrusts as he starts fucking my hand.
I break our kiss, harsh breath escaping us. He looks so pretty like this, wet hair, puffy eyes, flustered and blush struck. As I get him to the edge he holds me in his arms as if he’s scared I’ll disappear.
“Cum for me” I murmur. His grip on my hair impenetrable as I bite down on his shoulder one more time, warm cum splashing both our stomachs.
I can feel his body give way, slowly falling to his knees on the bathtub floor. I turn the water off, lifting his head to check if he’s ok only to see a dumb fucked out smile on his face. As I pet his wet mop of hair his smile darkens. He starts licking his cum off my stomach before asking “Can I? Please, please let me clean you.” Voice breaking.
I guide his mouth back as he excitedly licks up the mess he’s made before guiding it lower….and lower. As he gets to my pussy he moans like a desperate whore. My desperate whore. Diving in like it’s his only sustenance. I guess we’re just simply not done getting each other dirty.
Dew showering with Copia, washing and jiggling his fat body
yes.......sudsing him up and running soap lathered hands under his fat rolls. taking his time kneeling and smoothing under his belly, squeezing at the soft underside. Copia braces himself on the shower wall and whimpers under the spray, saying he's pink in the face because of the hot water.
Tracing his fingertips through the bubbles and smirking at the squelch Copia's belly button makes when the ghoul jabs his thumb in and out, fucking it slowly. They hadn't washed off Frater's paint just yet, so its running down in smudged lines. With his hair plastered under the water he really reminds Dew of himself in the Rats music video, always referred to as a wet rat. He didn't look too much different now, except for how fat he'd gotten since - he may have still been a wet rat, but double the weight (if Dew was lowballing).
With his dancing days - and the corresponding injuries - mostly behind him, and the weight, Dew was always sure to see that he was comfortably seated on a shower chair. Easier on Copia's knees and ensuring that there would be no accidents in the slippery throes of showering together (hopefully never again). Not to mention how hot it was to have Dew kneeling before him and wobbling his belly in his lap. With the delicious floral scented soaps and musky candles burning across the bathroom, the air thick and steamy in his lungs, it might as well be paradise.
