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leiawritesstories · 2 years

Note

Here's a prompt

Rowan as a stay home dad or just getting out of his job and going to pick up their children from school and all the teachers and mothers drooling after him

Thx💚

i mean, Rowan is canonically a dilf, right? ;)

word count: 1,558

warnings:

enjoy!!

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

Every afternoon when he drove over to the elementary school to pick up his kids, Rowan wished to all things holy that his car had all tinted windows, because gods above, the staring was going to be the death of him. It was all he could do to climb out of the car and walk over towards the playground to collect his children without dearly wanting to crawl into the blacktop pavement and die from embarrassment.

Children everywhere, and still the parents and even the teachers had eyes for nothing but him.

But he had to go and physically check out his kids, because they were all too young to check themselves out and go to their dad’s car. They had to be in fourth grade or above to do that, or have an older sibling in fourth grade or above, and his oldest was still only in third grade.

Today, it was like the usual “sneaky” glances had been amplified by a thousand as he strode across the blacktop to where his daughter’s class was waiting in their line. He swore there was even a muffled wolf whistle that followed him as he passed a certain cluster of moms, all of them in their twenties, all of them blatantly sweeping their false-lashed gazes up and down his form.

“Afternoon, Mr. Whitethorn.” one of the bolder moms simpered, smirking flirtatiously at him.

Rowan grunted something that sounded vaguely like a hello.

“Guess he doesn’t speak much,” the mom murmured to her friends, just loud enough for him to hear.

“That one doesn’t need to speak,” smirked another mom. “One word and I’d do anything he tells me, oh yes I would.”

“And you’d do it with a ‘yes, sir,’ wouldn’t you?” the first mom snickered.

The cluster of mamas broke into giggles and snorts. Rowan locked his jaw and kept going, imagining all the things his brilliant accountant wife would have to say to the moms if and when she ever came to pick up her kids. God, he wished Aelin were here, wished he could watch her grin her vicious grin as she no doubt retorted with something that would leave the smirking moms in complete and utter shock as well as leave him with a mighty blush.

“Dad!” His oldest daughter’s voice broke through his thoughts as she waved to him from her class line.

“Hey, Lana.” Rowan closed the distance between her and where he’d been standing, nodding casually at her teacher.

Who blushed like a schoolgirl as she checked Lana’s name off on her list.

“Have a lovely day, Mr. Whitethorn!” the young woman crooned, blushing up to her ears.

Hell, Rowan groaned internally, the teachers too?!

Lana was apparently oblivious, tugging on his hand. “C’mon, Dad! We gotta go pick Bran up!”

“I haven’t forgotten, Lana,” he chuckled, allowing his eight-year-old to pull him in the direction of Brannon’s first-grade class. “Hey, buddy!”

“Dada!” Bran yelled, running to his father as fast as his six-year-old legs could carry him, rules of checking out be damned. “Wanna see my new band-aid?”

“Slow down there, B,” Rowan laughed, nodding to his son’s teacher. The older woman nodded back, checking off Bran’s name on her clipboard.

“Don’t let that one near the slides for a few days,” she called, winking at Bran. Rowan had been a fan of the teacher the minute he and Aelin met her on their son’s first day, the woman’s obvious love for teaching and affection for the kids she taught evident in the way she structured her class and treated no child any differently than the others.

“Noted,” Rowan grinned, huffing a soft laugh. “Bud, you been going down the slide on your tummy again?”

“Nooooooo.” Bran widened his eyes into the portrait of innocence.

Kid got that one from his mother, he did.

“You have to be careful, Bran,” Rowan reminded the boy, ruffling his hair. “Show me the band-aid when we get home, yeah?”

“It’s Batman!” Bran crowed, beaming like it was an achievement.

Lana snorted. “It’s still ’cause you got hurt.” She tugged on Rowan’s hand again, pulling him towards the parking lot. “You’re so slow, Dad!” she complained. “We still gotta get Emmy from daycare.”

“Like we do every day,” Rowan added, clicking the button to unlock the car so his kids could clamber into their seats. With some pushing and shoving, as the little one always did.

Some ten minutes later, they pulled up to the daycare building and all piled out, the kids running ahead of Rowan to push the automatic door button. They were obsessed with automatic doors lately, taking every chance to go through a sliding door at a store and press all the buttons whenever they saw one.

Rowan ducked his head into the door of Emmy’s room, his youngest daughter spotting him immediately and sprinting to him with all the speed her three-year-old self could muster. “Dada Dada!”

“Hi, baby!” Rowan beamed, swooping her up into his arms. “You have a good day?”

“Lot better now that he’s here,” one of the teachers whispered from her seat by the door.

The other one snickered. “Who needs Tinder when you’ve got eyes on a real life catfish?”

For the umpteenth time since going to pick up his kids, Rowan felt his face start to burn. Even the daycare teachers couldn’t let a day go by without commenting on his appearance. And they were young, younger than the teachers at the elementary school, so it really was like avoiding teenagers.

“Thanks,” he threw over his shoulder as he herded his children out to the car.

“Dada I paint!” Emmy declared, thrusting a paper in his face.

He laughed, buckling her into her carseat. “Hold it a little farther away, sweetheart. Dada can’t tell what pretty picture you made if it’s so close to my eyeballs.”

Emmy giggled. “Is puppy!”

“It’s beautiful, baby.”

The puppy was extremely...colorful. Yes. Colorful.

And yes, he’d be hanging it up on the fridge when they got home. One simply did not put his children’s artwork anywhere else.

Twenty minutes later, they were piling out of the car and racing inside, the older ones shoving each other aside to claim the prize of pounding up the stairs like any herd of elephants while Emmy squirmed and wriggled in Rowan’s arms, demanding a snack. He just kissed her blonde head and let her run around the living room with her siblings while he got some snacks out.

The snacks, of course, were gone in under ten minutes. Because his children had inherited Aelin’s eating habits along with her irresistible puppy eyes.

And then the Whitethorn kids made their way out to the backyard, running and yelling and expending all the energy they suddenly had. Rowan watched them fondly through the kitchen window as he prepared dinner, only having to duck outside once when Lana tripped over something and all three kids somehow ended up in a pile of arms and legs and disgruntled squawking on the grass.

Aelin’s car pulled into the driveway just as he’d called all of them in to wash up for dinner, which was forgotten as soon as their mother walked into the house.

“Mama!” Emmy screeched, throwing herself at Aelin, her little arms wrapped tightly around her legs.

“Hi, lovey,” Aelin laughed, winking at Rowan as she stooped down to hug her baby. “What did you paint today?”

“Puppy!” Emmy proudly showed Aelin the newest fridge decoration.

“I got a Batman band-aid!” Bran declared proudly, displaying his scraped knee and the Batman bandage atop it.

Aelin pressed her lips together to squash down her mirth. “What have we discussed about you coming home wearing more band-aids, Brannon?”

“It was an accident!” he protested. “And I’m fine, Mama!”

“Bet you are,” she snickered, kicking out of her heels and kissing her son’s messy head before rolling onto her toes to kiss Rowan. “Hey, babe.”

“Hi, my love.” He took Emmy into his arms. “Let’s let Mama wash up too, yeah?”

“I hungry!”

“Yeah, and you have to wash your hands before dinner, right, little one?”

“With soap!” Lana chirped, pushing her brother back into the bathroom. “You never use soap, Bran.”

“Do too!” he yelled.

“Whoa there,” Rowan interrupted, breaking them apart before either one could smack the other. “Can I see your hands, Bran?” His son reluctantly held up his hands.

“I washed,” he mumbled.

“With soap?”

No response.

“Want to wash up in the kitchen sink?”

“Yeah!”

So Rowan held him up to reach the kitchen sink and let him scrub his hands that way. Aelin grinned, brushing a kiss onto his jaw as she passed to go change.

“Marry a man who’ll raise your kids right, they said,” she teased.

“Not you too,” Rowan groaned.

Her laugh echoed through the house. “School moms checking you out again, Ro?”

“When are they not?” he grumbled.

She winked. “Ain’t none of them got a real life, don’t worry about what they and the margarita they drank right before they came to the school say.”

He snorted. “Touché, Fireheart.”

She blew him a kiss. “Don’t let the kiddos eat up all the food! Or else I’ll have to eat you for dinner!”

Gods, he couldn’t be reacting to her like that with his kids right there.

~~~

TAGS:

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@darling-im-the-queen-of-hell

@chronicchthonic14

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@hanging-from-a-cliff

@jorjy-jo

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@thegreyj

@silentquartz

@backtobl4ck

@throneofus7

#my writing #aelin galathynius #rowan whitethorn #rowaelin #dilf rowan #dad rowan #rowaelin kiddos #fluff #fluff to cure my shit day

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temiizpalace · 3 months

Text

☆┆TEND TO MY WOUNDS !

SUMMARY: red alert! he’s injured! it’s alright, for the prefect of ramshackle is here to save the day.

CHARACTERS: leona, jade, jamil, rook, idia

(i spun a wheel to try and write other characters.. jamil and leona just love me teehee)

GENRE: fluff

WARNINGS: the boys get injured, but nothing is life threatening. — cursing — MENTIONS OF BLEEDING (not fatal)

ROMANTIC, ESTABLISHED RELATIONSHIP

reader is g/n, reader is yuu

🦁┆LEONA KINGSCHOLAR

“shit! ow—“

leona groans, feeling the stinging pain of alcohol rubbed onto his forehead. spelldrive didn’t go as it usually did.

everything was normal. practice was going well, and everybody was doing the proper training regiments. it was all fun watching leona and everybody practice by a nearby tree. except leona wasn’t practicing this afternoon.

today, he felt like napping right beside you. he laid his head in your lap, sound asleep. this all goes south when some freshmen decide to mess around, sending the disc flying in your direction.

typically leona would’ve been able to divert it with magic, but feeling a little hazy from barely awakening, it hit him straight on the forehead.

now here you both are, present in the infirmary, leona sitting on the cot, and you being his own personal doctor. “i can’t believe the great leona kingscholar got hit by a spelldrive disc. it is truly an honor to witness it first hand.” you joke, causing him to roll his eyes.

“tch.. whatever— FUCK.” it’s funny to see leona in such a state. one where his tough guy act isn’t all the way up. you thought he’d brush off the pain like a man, but surprise! we learn something new everyday.

“haha.. wait here. i need to find bandages.” you walk over to the cabinet, only to find all the boxes of bandages empty. except for one. a bandaid box. you snicker at the sight of them and take a couple out of the box. leona raises a brow as he heard your giggling in the back til you made your way back towards him.

you stood in front of him and placed the bandaids on his forehead. he liked the close proximity. he likes being by your side. you caring for him like this is actually one of his deepest desires. he won’t ever say it aloud of course, but he hopes you take the hints.

“you are now officially cured.” you grin, finally applying the last bandaid. he stood up, looking you in the eyes. he wanted to thank you. wanted to thank you for helping him. wanted to thank you for caring enough about him to do this. to help him.

but leona being leona cannot say thank you. “..I don’t wanna owe you any favors so,” he pulls out his wallet from his pocket and throws it to you. you catch it, nearly dropping all the thaumarks inside on the floor. “go buy somethin’ while you’re at it.”

he ruffles your hair, walking out of the infirmary. you flip through the wallet, it barely closing due to the amount of cards and thaumarks inside. rich boy privileges go crazy. ruggie wasn’t kidding when he said leona was stinkin rich. all you could do was stand there, shocked.

leona walks back out to the field, hearing the team laugh as he approaches. he looks at them with a puzzled look, the laughing becoming unbearable. “oi, what’s so funny? mind tellin’?”

“cute bandaids ya got there, boss. shishishishi..” ruggie chuckles, looking at leona’s super cute and silly unicorn bandaids on his forehead. at first, he’s confused. then he rips a bandaid off and looks at the patterns.

start running <3

🐬┆JADE LEECH

“jade, stop moving!”

you sigh, trying to place a bandaid on jade’s cut. you wanted to help him cook today since mostro lounge has been extremely busy lately. azul had been working him to the bone, so he used his time off as a way to spend time with you.

only to end up back in the kitchen, but whatever. since you’re there, it’s all good. while chopping a mysterious vegetable, (it’s a mushroom..) he accidentally cut his finger. he wasn’t paying attention to where he was cutting. cause he was looking at you.

normally somebody would wince in pain, but jade is jade. so. “oh my, this is unexpected.” he says, as his blood gets on his gloves and contaminates the mushrooms. “oh my what— OH MY GOSH, JADE.” you yell, as he’s abnormally calm about the fact blood was all over the mushrooms.

so now he’s sitting at one of the barstools in mostro lounge as you try to patch up his finger. anytime the bandaid gets remotely close to the cut, he squirms and jerks his hand away. you can’t tell if he’s messing with you or if he’s just sensitive to touch because he still has his dumb polite smile.

“jade. stop. moving.” you grunt, trying to grab his wrist to hold his hand still. “fufu..” his stupid chuckle is usually very nice but it’s just growing irritating.

for some reason he still has the impulse to tease you. even when injured. all you want to do is care for him, so why is he making this so difficult?! is he waiting for something?

oh. that’s an idea.

“jade, may i see your hand?” you ask, putting the bandaid on the counter. he raises a brow, but complies nonetheless. “of course. do be gentle though, im wounded.” well no shit.

you held his hand gently, raising a finger up to your lips. you place a gentle kiss on his finger. not on the wound exactly, but near it. his eyes slightly widened and his cheeks tinted slightly red. he loses his composure for just a moment, giving you time to apply the bandaid onto his cut.

you smile in victory, standing up from your seat. “there, all better!” you winked at him before making your way back to the kitchen. he sat there, dumbfounded. how curious.. if that’s a way to get free kisses..

“oh dear, it appears i had just cut my lower lip. what a shame. it appears i am in need of some assistance.” this wasn’t even five minutes later.

🐍┆JAMIL VIPER

“you scream like a girl.”

you laugh as jamil looks away from you. he couldn’t bear to look you in the eyes. a little earlier, the both of you were sitting in the lounge of ramshackle as comfortable silence filled the air.

he was flipping through pages of a book while you leaned onto his shoulder, playing a game of some sort on your phone.

“..AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA”

that silence was interrupted as you heard a high pitched scream next to you, turning your head to see jamil absolutely mortified and panicked.

“JAMIL?! WHAT IS—“ then you spotted it. the wretched cockroach crawling on the table. he shut his book and threw it at the table, missing. now he’s grabbing all nearby objects to kill the insect.

“JAMIL PLEASE CALM DOWN, PLEASE! FUCK, JAMIL—” he ended up using his magic, but used a lil too much. as you held him back, his leg bumped against the table, causing him to scurry back to the couch.

confirming that the roach had cleared the premises, you sat next to him and checked the bump on his leg. his breaths were heavy and a sweat was across his brow. you would’ve thought he looked insanely attractive if it weren’t for the incident just before.

now he’s embarrassed, his hood is pulled over, and he’s pouting as he looks away from you. “i think you got a small cut, but it should be fine. i’ll go get some bandaids!” you hum, getting up from the cushions to find the box of bandages.

he completely humiliated himself in front of you. he was weak in front of you. and he hates that. “im back and here to repair your boo-boo.” you came back with the box, sitting back down and opening it. you remove a bandaid and slowly apply it til you hear him mutter something.

“sorry.”

“hm? sorry, couldn’t hear ya. mind speaking up for me?” you heard him perfectly fine. he irks before speaking up, his tone hinted with annoyance. “sorry.”

“all is forgiven, my love.” you smile, wrapping your arms around him and pulling him into a hug. he sighs, reciprocating the hug and leaning onto you. “please forget you saw that..” he mumbles, his face practically burning.

you chuckle, playing with loose strands of his hair as the both of you now lied on the couch. “no promises..” he clicked his tongue and rolled his eyes, but placed a quick kiss on your cheek. he shuts his eyes, needing to recharge.

“mhm. love you too, jamil.” you whisper, allowing him to rest on your chest. he fell asleep in no time flat. let him rest. or even better yet, join him!

🏹┆ROOK HUNT

“how’d you fall?”

you ask, seeing as rook lied on the ground. i don’t know how to explain his pose, he’s just a theatre kid.

“never mind the details, ma chère. all that matters is that you had rushed to my rescue!” he smiles as you stood there. the most deadpan expression on your face. “i’ll just go get you bandages and not question it.” “merci!”

you rush to the infirmary, grabbing the bandages and rushing out. if nobody knew better, they’d all have assumed that rook was dead. he hasn’t moved an inch.

“where’d you injure yourself?” you ask, crouching down and inspecting his arms. “non, non. you must guess!” he laughs, sitting up right away. you groan as he initiated such an idea. “rook. im not going to guess—“

“if that is the case, ill be stuck in everlasting pain! it’d be unbearable.” he sighs dramatically, causing you to furrow your brow. “fine. did you injure your leg?” you grumble, checking each limb.

he shook his head, smiling like an absolute idiot. “here, allow me to give you a hint.” he grabs your hand guiding it to the place of the wound. of course he can’t do it without teasing you a little.

he places your hand on his shoulder, his hand, his neck, til eventually he stopped on his cheek. “my injury can be found around here.”

you look at his cheek, but there is no cut, scratch, or bruise to be seen. you raise a brow at him, but he has no shift in reaction. “rook, are you lying to me?” rook shook his head, looking you in the eyes. “I wouldn’t lie to you, mon amour. perhaps you need a closer look.”

before he could even explain what that meant, he pulled you towards him. causing you to fall onto him. “can you see it now?” he asks, staring at you lovingly.

you sigh, pulling a bandage out and placing it onto his lips. his eyes widened, but he wasn’t mad. not in the slightest! he wrapped his arms around you. taking this opportunity for a cuddle session.

despite your “annoyance,” you smiled and laughed slightly. “you’re impossible, rook.”

he nuzzled his head into the crook of your neck, humming happily as you spoke. his fingers intertwined with yours as the sun hit both of your figures. creating a scene resembling one of a fairytale.

💀┆IDIA SHROUD

“you can’t lock yourself into your room because of this.”

you slightly chuckle as you patch up idia’s knee. moments before, his PE class had to do the sprints. looks like he went to class on the wrong day.

while he was running, he tripped on a conveniently placed rock and fell on his knee. ortho quickly went to find you and bring you to idia so that you can comfort him.

he had tears coming from his eyes, which caused ortho to panic. you both carried him to the infirmary since he had an inability to walk. you situated him onto the cot and grabbed some bandages from the cabinets. “don’t worry niisan! the prefect will take good care of you!”

ortho chimed, trying his best to comfort his brother. idia felt his stress lessen, but that doesn’t change the immense pain he was in. “thank you, ortho. but i don’t im ever gonna to go outside again.”

he mumbles, causing ortho to pout. you come back with the bandages, smiling as you sat to the side of the cot. “im gonna have to go explain to coach vargas why you’re not here! hang tight, niisan!”

you waved to ortho, leaving just you and idia in the infirmary. “idia, you’re not going to die because of this.” you smile, placing the bandage onto his knee. idia groans, picking at his fingers. “i looked so cringe just now. definitely not my moment.”

“you didn’t look cringe, idia. you got hurt.” you grabbed his hand and held it in yours. he smiles slightly as you tried to reassure him. it was endearing to him. “thanks.. but i want to lock myself in my room for like ever after this..” he quickly mutters, hoping you wouldn’t hear that. surprise! you heard him.

“no idia, you can’t lock yourself in your room forever after this.” you sigh, realizing this was the man you fell in love with. “what? you can come too. you’d be free from all the normies surrounding you.” he stated bluntly.

“..no.” you hesitantly said, squeezing his hand slightly. you both sat in the infirmary for a few more moments before you sat up and let go of his hand. “can you stand?”

“no.” he quickly replies, not even bothering to try. you stare at him before exhaling deeply. “i’ll bring your switch then. wait here.” he smiled as he watched you exit the room. he appreciated how understanding you were. how you knew what he wanted before he even had to ask. ..well, most of the time anyway.

when you came back, you sat next to him on the cot. you both played smash bros together, playing until the console runs out of batteries. lucky for him, his console lasts for almost an entire week before it runs out of power.

let me just say, he beat your ass in smash bros.

A/N: this sat in my drafts for a very long time. i had to brainstorm A LOT to see how idia could get injured.

date published: 1/27/24

#twisted wonderland #disney twst #twisted wonderland fluff #twisted wonderland x reader #twst x reader #leona kingscholar x reader #jade leech x reader #jamil viper x reader #rook hunt x reader #idia shroud x reader #twst fluff #twst #twst wonderland

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rodolfoparras · 7 months

Note

think about price who constantly refers to his lover as 'the wife' with lovesick eyes to 141

now imagine 141 loosing their SHIT on the inside when they first meet 'the wife' and she isn't some petite pretty little housewife like they imagined but instead a large ass man built like a fucking TANK and easily towers over Simon who is the tallest of the group. price still refers to him as 'the wife' with the dorkiest grin ever and 141 doesnt let him live it down, threatening him with telling 'the wife' whenever he doesnt let them do something stupid

(feral anon)

(i want to be 'the wife' so bad but sadly i am a short transmasc that doesn't look like a man at all)

(your posts cure my gender disphoria)

A/N: I loved this idea and I’ve been wanting to write a fluff piece for my old man so here u go, something very light hearted ! Excuse any mistakes I wrote it within an hour or so!

It’s no secret that Price likes to keep his private life and work life separated, not many people know he’s married and he likes to keep it that way.

However he has no qualms about 141 finding out about the person he loves so much, matter of fact Laswell was the first to know, all unplanned of course.

It all happened when the two of them snuck away from the rowdy group of men to smoke. Sitting inside would’ve been a better option. It was warm inside, they had decent lighting and were within hand’s distant to their drinks but that would also mean they were at risk of losing their hearing or getting elbowed in the stomach or face by the drunken men, so outside it is.

Price offers her his cigar, which she takes gracefully muttering something along the lines of “my wife doesn’t like it when I smoke” while taking a drag from the tobacco leaf.

“Neither does mine” he says with crows feet appearing around his eyes and lips curling up into a smile.

“You’re married?” Laswell says, only with a hint of surprise on her face as she hands the cigar back to him.

“Happily” he says smile still present as ever on his face before he takes a drag from the cigar as well “been that way for four years now”

She just nods in response before she takes the cigar back, and that’s pretty much how Laswell finds out about Price’s spouse.

The next person to find out about it is Gaz.

141 had been out on a mission that day, and Gaz had taken the impulsive decision to head straight into the fire in hopes of getting important intel. He’s managed to get it but not without getting scolded for his reckless behavior by Price. Hours later and the guilt is still eating at him so he decides to make his way over to Price’s office in an attempt to make amends with the older man.

Gaz takes a deep breath before he knocks on Price’s office door.

“Come on in” he hears the older man’s voice.

Gaz walks in only to be met with the sight of Price seated in his office chair, paper work scattered about on his desk and a cigar resting between his index and middle finger.

“Sir” Gaz says, awkwardly shuffling in place. “I’d like to apologize for earlier today”

“Already forgotten”

The surprise must’ve been clear on his face because the older man can’t help but chuckle.

“Sit down” Price says pointing at the chair opposite to him before taking another drag from the tobacco leaf.

Gaz swiftly takes a seat, hands resting on his knees, nervously chewing on his bottom lip.

There’s a moment of silence as Price rearranges the paper in a neat pile on his desk, pen carefully placed next to it before he speaks again.

“You got someone special waiting for you back home?”

Once again Gaz is surprised but this time the older man just looks at him and smiles.

“I do, sir”

“So do I” Price says smile getting bigger as he folds his arms across his chest and leans back in his chair. “Oh don’t look at me like that I’m not that old am I?”

“No - no sir” Gaz says, hands awkwardly flailing about and feeling his ears burn as he blurts out the words.

Price’s smile grows even bigger before he begins to explain “point is I’m sure that special someone wants you back home alive, if anything were to happen to me I’m sure the wife would find a way to haunt me in the after life”

Price’s gaze falls to his hands, fingers fidgeting with his wedding band.

Oh.

The wife.

The ring.

The captain is married.

“Sometimes we have to do things we rather not do to make sure we come back home to them, keep that in mind Garrick”

“Yes sir” Gaz says, mind still processing this new found information.

“Good, now if you excuse me I have someone to call,”

Gaz without thinking says “the wife?”

Price only chuckles but nods his head in confirmation “the wife”

Soap is the third person to find out and it happens while 141 are relaxing on base, playing cards and drinking beer.

Price walks in with black slacks and a white button, rolled all the way up to his elbows. On top of that there’s an invisible trail of cologne that seems to follow his form.

“Captain! Come join us” soap says not even looking up at the man but instead keeping laser focus on the cards in his hand.

“No can do boys I’m heading out with the wife”

Soap almost drops the cards in his hand, head turning so fast Price is surprised he doesn’t get whiplash. “You’re married?”

“I am” Price says trying to suppress his chuckle when he sees Gaz peaking at Soap’s cards. “You weren’t planning on proposing were you soldier?” Price jokes which sends the rest of the group into a fit of laughter.

Soap physically recoils at that, head turning back to his cards and muttering a “to you captain? No thanks”

“Alright then, I’m heading out” Price says, choosing to ignore soaps comments, as he pulls on his jacket“don’t wait up!”

As Price makes his way over to the front door, he hears the group continuing to tease soap, can even hear the Scotsman accuse Gaz of looking at his cards, but he quickly forgets about everything as he sees you parked outside and waiting for him.

Ghost was very well aware of Price’s spouse, had even been the first person to know that Price was planning to propose.

The two of them had been in an entirely different squad, and less familiar with each other when they got sent out on a mission. A lot of things went wrong that day so much so Ghost and Price weren’t sure if the both of them would get back home alive. So Price had taken the opportunity to tell him about this special someone, how he was planning to propose to this person when they were scheduled to go back home, had even forced a wedding band in the palm of Ghost’s hand and told him to give it to the person if Price doesn’t make it out alive.

Luckily the both of them had managed to get out alive and Ghost had gotten the opportunity to watch Price put the ring on this person’s hand.

With that being said Ghost should be able to recognize this person if they were to appear in front of him but it’s been years so when he hears someone asking where Price is he doesn’t think twice about telling them, chalking it up to some poor lost recruit looking for the captain, while keeping his eyes on the weapon he’s cleaning.

However he doesn’t get to do much more before he hears another voice.

“Who’s the guy?” says soap, confusion clear in his tone.

Ghost turns to the other man and the annoyance must’ve been clear in his eyes because Soap raises his hands in an apologetic manner. “Oh sorry did i interrupt something important “ he says with a smile on his face.

“Anyway a tall really tall dude maybe taller than the ghost?” He pauses as if contemplating before he continues to explain “was looking for Price, really buff too…” he trails off while glancing down at his arms “hey you think I should work out more?”

Ghost just sighs before he returns to cleaning his weapon but he’s once again interrupted when Gaz walks in.

“Captain wants to see us in his office”

And that’s when he fully gives up on the task as he follows the two other men over to Price’s office, grumbling over why the captain was calling them over while putting up with the chatter from the Scotsman telling Gaz all about the giant that just passed him.

It doesn’t take much before they find themselves in front of Price’s office.

Through the door they can hear Price’s voice along with a much deeper voice, holding a conversation.

Soap is the first to knock on the door, while sharing confused glances with the two other men.

“Come in”

The three men enter the room only to be met with the sight of Price standing behind his office chair where a man is sitting in it, both of them sporting equally bright smiles on their faces.

“Boys” Price says, face ever so proud as he looks down at the man “meet the wife”

The man stands up, tall just like Soap had described him and when he reaches a hand out they see a wedding band that matches the one on Price’s hand.

“I’m the wife” you say with a big smile on your face.

#anonie me and u can still be /the wife/ fawk what everyone says 🤝#alec answers #john price #john price x reader #john price x male reader #call of duty #captain john price #captain john price x male reader #captain john price x reader #scribbles #feral anon

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xtra7s · 3 months

Note

It's me again, how about Renee and r reading thirst tweets??? Or Renee flirting with r and she just loves making her flustered. Something like Renee always calling her "baby" I just can't get my mind out of these thoughts.

Also, love you and your works darling<3

𝐒𝐎𝐌𝐄𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐒𝐏𝐄𝐂𝐈𝐀𝐋: 𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐑𝐒𝐓 𝐓𝐖𝐄𝐄𝐓𝐒 ─── 𝘙𝘦𝘯𝘦𝘦 𝘙𝘢𝘱𝘱 𝘹 𝘙𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳

Synopsis: Renee and Y/N get to read thirst tweets!!!

Content: Renee Rapp x Fem!Reader, fluff, Renee bullying the hell out of Y/N(lovingly)

Word Count: 1.2k

a/n: please keep these comin baby. I am in writers block like crazy right now but this shit was fun to write. Hope you enjoy, (let me know if you want 'something special: Paris Trip' (;

masterlist | first part | second part

The studio lights glowed softly as Renee Rapp and Y/N settled into their seats, ready for another interview. This time, the format was a bit different. There was no host, and they were told that they would be reading and reacting to "thirst tweets" from their fans. Renee and Y/N exchanged amused glances, knowing this would be a fun and cheeky experience.

The camera starts rolling, and Renee perks up in her chair.

"Hey guys what's up, my name is Renee Rapp and this is my lovely costar Y/N YL/N, and we're here with BuzzFeed to read our thirst tweets."

Y/N smiles softly at Renee as she speaks, turning to the camera playfully when she's done. "I'm so excited about this you have no idea. Let's see what our fans have to say."

The first tweet appeared on the phone, and the playful banter began.

Y/N giggles at the tweet, reading it out in between breaths. "Is it just me, or does Y/N's smile have the power to cure any bad day? Asking for a friend.'"

Y/N grins and looks up at Renee, and then back to the camera. "Well, I'm flattered. If my smile has that kind of power, maybe I should start offering smile therapy."

"I can attest to the smile therapy. It works wonders." Renee speaks with a smile that matches Y/N's, leaning forward in her chair like she's telling a secret.

Renee shakes her head with a shit-eating grin on her face at the next tweet, "I wish Renee Rapp and Y/N YL/N were my birth parents, actually no, I wish I was in a throuple with them."

Renee tilts her head, looking at the camera intently. "I think you need to decide if you wanna be in a throuple with your parents, and that's something you should talk to your therapist about. And I don't know who 'Y/N YL/N' is." Renee speaks with a laugh, looking over at Y/N.

Y/N has a tint of pink covering her cheeks as she shoves Renee's shoulder playfully. "that's, I need a minute to process that one" She giggles, scrolling to the next tweet.

As the tweets became bolder, the chemistry between Renee and Y/N intensified. The playful flirting was accompanied by shared laughter, and the studio audience couldn't get enough.

Y/N widens her eyes at this one, a silent laugh coming out of both Renee and her.

"Perfect threesome? Me, Y/N YL/N, and a tub of peanut butter. How you feelin' about that one baby?" Renee murmurs, looking over at Y/N softly.

Y/N raises an eyebrow, her face scrunching into a grimace. "that-" she shrugs awkwardly as her face gets darker in a shade of maroon, "makes me feel weird."

Renee smirks as she sees the effect she had on Y/N, grabbing the phone gently from Y/N's hand and reading the next tweet.

"Renee Rapp I am simply just a hole for you."

Renee sits there in silence for a second, pushing her tongue against her cheek while she laughs. "And I am simply just a fucking- I'm a person, I'm a human being. What do you want me to do to your holes? Be more specific."

As the interview shifted back to a more traditional format, An interviewer named Taylor came in and decided to focus on the professional aspects of Renee Rapp and Y/N's collaboration on "Unveiling Hearts." The studio lights dimmed slightly, creating an intimate ambiance as Taylor delved into questions about their characters, on-screen dynamics, and the impact of the show.

Taylor greets both Y/N and Renee, getting into her questions smoothly. "Alright, let's talk about 'Unveiling Hearts.' The chemistry between your characters is undeniable. How do you both manage to bring such authenticity to your roles?"

"Well, I think it helps that Y/N and I have a natural connection. It's not hard to portray a convincing love story when you're working with someone as talented as her." Renee speaks as she looks at Y/N, grinning at her.

Y/N blushed as she looked away shyly, "Aw, thanks, Renee. It's definitely a collaborative effort. We bounce off each other's energy, on and off the set."

Taylor nods and moves right into another question, "Fans are loving the romantic storyline this season. Any hints you can give us about what's in store for your characters?"

"Let's just say there might be a few more unexpected twists and turns in the romance department. You'll have to tune in to see." Renee leaned in, speaking with a playful glint in her eyes.

Y/N matched Renee's expression, placing her hands on her lap. "Renee loves to keep me on my toes, both in the script and in real life."

As the interview progressed, Renee couldn't resist injecting a flirtatious edge into her responses, causing Y/N to squirm in her seat. The studio audience picked up on the dynamic between the two, and Taylor couldn't help but smile at the palpable chemistry.

Taylor smirks at the banter between the costars, "What's it like working together? Any memorable moments behind the scenes?"

Renee looked at Y/N, a mischievous glint in her eyes as she narrowed them at her. "Oh, where do I begin? There are so many, I just can't choose. Probably that one time when we visited Paris, the Eiffel Tower was-

Y/N smacked Renee's arm quickly, but not hard enough to hurt her. "And that's enough out of her mouth." She spoke with a nervous grin, narrowing her eyes back at Renee.

The interviewer raised her eyebrows as the teasing continued, with Renee casually dropping endearments and playful comments throughout the interview.

"Working with Y/N is a dream. She's not just a talented co-star; she's my partner in crime, my confidante, my baby." Renee speaks with a flirty tone, gripping Y/N's knee and squeezing it softly before letting go.

At this point, Y/N's face was covered in a deep shade of maroon. "Okay, Renee, you're really going for it with the baby thing today."

Renee playfully flipped her hair and winked at Y/N, "Can't help it. It just feels right, baby."

The interview concluded with laughter and a lingering sense of warmth. The fans would undoubtedly dissect every word and gesture, adding a new layer to the mystery of the real-life connection between Renee Rapp and Y/N.

Renee wraps her arm around Y/N's shoulder as they finish reading the tweets, "Thanks for watching, hope you had fun, thank you for all these.. Very sweet.. Tweets, I will be thinking about them before I go to bed."

Y/N says to the camera, a false concern look on her face as she smiles at the camera, Renee and her waving as the screen fades to black.

#renee rapp x reader #renee rapp #wlw #lesbian #the sex lives of college girls #leighton murray x reader #leighton murray #regina george x reader #mean girls musical movie

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vampiretendencies · 1 year

Text

request; “tell me about your day” and “wiping their tears when they cry” with rafe?

pairing; rafe x fem!reader

warnings; fluff

authors note; curing my writers block one blurb at a time, request from the list below or send in your ideas for blurbs, one shots, imagines etc.

other ways to say i love you prompt list

Rafe wanted you to quit working.

He’d told you time and time again that he genuinely desired to provide for you.

Enough for you and him.

And the way that you enter his home, hardly standing up— proves his point. No woman of his should ever have to work so hard, but you always insisted.

Because one day, if things went south you’d be left with nothing but empty pockets and a sullen heart.

“‘The fuck happened to you.”

Rafe spat, not at you however, but because he already knew those bastards were overworking his girl. He had such a ‘pleasant’ way of saying hello.

“‘M not in the mood Rafe.”

You voice was deep and low— monotone, and he knew not to prod any further. Typically, as one would know, Rafe would always push bounds but not with you.

Not with the one he knew he needed to stick around more than anything.

Jumping from his seat on the couch, he lets your limp body cling onto him whilst you kick your shoes off by the front door.

“You smell like onion rings,” Rafe concluded. Your job at the Wreck typically had you smelling like all sorts of blubber.

So straightforward and blunt, yet affectionate and merely sorrowful for the ache in your eyes.

“Run me a bath please, m’ gonna collapse.”

With that, he swoops one arm under your legs— carrying you so effortlessly. You stare up at him, hair freshly cut and a musk of freshness.

Rafe watched as you undessed in front of him, so feeble and weak he could hardly take it. A sharp pain daggering at his insides. Offering you his hand— holding it long enough until you settled into the bathtub. Rafe sat at the edge of the tub, craving to keep you company, and to partially make sure you wouldn’t drown from falling asleep in the bathtub.

Something so intimate about seeing his lover so vulnerable, falling apart before him.

In more ways than one.

“Tell me about your day.”

He needed to know who he had to make time to personally fuck with— possibly rearrange their face with one tightened fist. He knows he shouldn’t ask, but from your state— you’re holding too much of it, making your figure even more unstable by carrying that weight. Eyes beginning to glaze over, he knows he’s hit that nerve just right.

“S’just too fucking much, and m’not getting paid enough for this shit-“

To your surprise, as salty tears stream repeatedly down your face— Rafe’s thumb smoothed over the skin of your cheeks catching every single drop; not missing a beat.

Not to say you were stunned, but it’s Rafe.

You’ve always had to get use to the fact that he doesn’t show much emotion— but since the two of you became conjoined at the hip, he’s tried beyond belief.

With your mouth parted, your tears stop; the willing comfort striking you all at once. The corners of Rafe’s mouth pulling into a minuscule smile.

“Just let me take care of you, Princess.”

#rafe cameron one shot #rafe cameron imagines #rafe outer banks #rafe cameron headcanons #rafe cameron smut #rafe cameron blurb #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron x oc #rafe cameron fluff #rafe cameron #rafe cameron angst #rafe cameron x pogue!reader #rafe cameron x you #rafe cameron x female reader #rafe cameron x y/n #rafe cameron x smut #rafe cameron x kook!reader #outer banks #obx3

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oosleepyfaeoo · 1 month

Text

A Kiss Is All I Need

Modern!Aemond Targaryen x Fem!Reader

Chapter Two

Summary: 2 months ago, Alys, the love of his life, broke up with him. Their relationship of five years gone by a simple farewell note that she left on their, well now his, penthouse. 2 months crying and feeling like shit but that all stopped when he meet you on that dreadful clothing store.

Warnings: Nothing much yet, just little fluff.

Words: 1,167

Masterlist / Series Masterlist

Taglist: @zenka69 @cryptid-l0ver @saelwen-shy-elf @aemondsdelight @shari-berri @kckt88 @watercolorskyy @dae7tina @saturnssrings @dixie-elocin @arabis-world @tulips2715 @reedmurdock @ladythornofrivia @tssf-imagines @eeeeeevesstuff @venmondiese @bellaisasleep @darylandbethfanforever9 @snh96 @liv-cole

Aemond took a deep breath as he stood in front of your bakery. ‘The Faun Cottage’ was the name of your store. The display window was decorated with beautiful green leaves and antique books which served to hold cakes and baskets of bread.

He was dressed in a light white shirt with a leather jacket, black jeans, and super comfortable Doctor Martens, which he wears almost every day. His long hair was tied in a low ponytail.

Looking down at the watch on his wrists, he saw it was 2 pm already. “Here goes nothing,” he murmurs as he walks into the bakery. “You better be right, Aegon.”

The scent of fresh bread and coffee along with a sweet herbal smell hit his nose like a train. Inside the shop, it was warm and cozy. Green vines are climbing the walls into the ceiling and some ancient runes are painted on the stone walls which looks like a mix of cottage core with Celtic/Viking vibe. A faint medieval music played in the background. It looks like something from an ancient era.

There are some people seated eating their food, others reading or working while drinking their tea or coffee.

“Mommy! Mommy! My Prince is here!” Emily’s voice echoed through the shop, grabbing his attention. This time she was dressed in a simple brown dress with some hand-painted runes on it. Her black hair was braided, and two small antlers rested on her head.

Aemond smiles down at her and kneels to shake her tiny hand. “Hello, Emily.” He greets her gently. “And what do you suppose to be today?”

She gives him a little twirl and grins. “I’m a druid! I talk to animals and cure people's booboos with my magic!” The girl grabs his hand and pulls him towards the door behind the counter, saying a quick hello to the guy who was attending to a client.

Aemond chuckles and lets the girl guide him. “Hmm, I see.”

Emily opens the door and leads him inside. It was an office by the looks and by the desk full of papers and a laptop, stood a very stressed woman.

“Mommy! Look who’s here!” Emily chirps happily.

You looked up from your papers and gave him a tired smile. “Aemond... I’m happy to see you. Please take a seat.” You try to make your office table more presentable, putting all the paperwork in cases. “Sorry for the mess. It’s been a busy day. Maria needed the day off so I took over her work and... it didn’t go well.”

Aemond sat on the wooden chair in front of you while Emily went to the corner to play with her plush animals. “It’s no problem... Here’s my papers, all the training I did.” He gives you the case. “By the way, you have a lovely bakery. Very creative.”

The grin you gave him made Aemond’s heart almost burst out of his chest. Your eyes brightened at his compliment and how the dimples on your cheeks made you look so cute and innocent.

“Thank you! It was a lot of work to make it the way I imagined but it was worth it.” You say taking a seat on your chair. “So, shall we start with the interview?”

Aemond nods.

“Okay! So, your brother said you had experience with children. Your nephews, right?” Aemond nods again.

“Yes, my sister's children. Twins, a girl, Jaehaera, and a boy, Jaehaerys, of 8 years old, and toddler of 2 years old, Maelor.” Aemond smiled gently at the thought of his nephews.

You took notice of his gentleness as he talked about his nephews, which made you feel more relaxed with the idea of him taking care of Emily.

“They all have beautiful names.” You speak. “I’m not going to lie but it seems you are perfect for Emily. You have basic first aid training and CPR certifications.” You look down and read his papers. “Also, it seems Emily is already attached to you.”

You nod towards your daughter, who has her gaze fixed on Aemond while she plays. Aemond grinned at her which made the girl giggle and run towards him, showing him her favorite plush animal.

You pull up the documents for him to sign and put them in front of him. “It seems you got the job! You can read the agreement and then sign down here.” You smile. “I drive her to her school every morning. So, 3 pm you can go pick her up and she is all yours until 7 pm when I get home.”

Aemond nods and signs the paper. Opening the drawer beside you, you take a small notebook along with a key.

“Here.” You give him the book and key. “In here you will find all her allergies, her school, and our apartment address. That’s the key to our home.”

Aemond takes the book and the key from you, his pale fingers brushing gently against yours. “Thank you, Y/n.”

The way your name rolled through his tongue made your loins curl in a familiar feeling. You cough and look down to your laptop, a faint blush adorns your cheeks. Get a grip, Y/n!

There’s a small pregnant silence between you too. Aemond admires the way your face flushes so easily. Even tired, you look beautiful.

“Huh... Well! Ready for your first day?” You stand up and smile, trying to end the awkward silence.

Aemond also stood up, looking down at a very excited Emily. “Ready as I can be.” He gently grabs the girl's hand while putting her backpack on his shoulder and walks out of the office with you following close behind.

You kneel and give a big kiss on your daughter's cheek, making her giggle excitedly. “Have fun and behave.”

“Yes, mommy.” She grins and kisses your nose.

As you stand up, Aemond quickly pulls his wallet out and takes his business card. “I completely forgot to you give my card.” He says with an apologetic gaze. “My phone number is there in case you need something.”

You nod and take his business card. Emily pulls Aemond’s hand and jumps up and down. “Can I have an ice cream on our way home? Pretty please?”

Aemond looks in panic at you to which you laugh. “Yes, but only this time. Alright?”

“Yippe!” Your daughter squeals happily and pulls Aemond’s hand again. “C’mon! C’mon! Let’s go!” Aemond chuckles and lets the girl guide him while waving a small goodbye at you.

You waved back and watched them turn around the block, disappearing out of sight. You feel tears stinging in the corner of your eyes, the feeling of your daughter's absence drives you to panic.

“Deep breath, Y/n.” You whisper to yourself. “She’s going to be okay.”

Taking a deep breath, you look down at the business card in your hand. Your eyes widen as you see a familiar red logo. A three-headed dragon.

“Wait! He’s THE Aemond Targaryen??!!”

I hope you guys like this chapter!! Feel free to like, comment or reblog!

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yongislong · 2 years

Text

skin ship + dreamies.

wc/genre: idk, pretty short though, fluff, suggestive.... lmao established relationships with nonidol!dreamies! reqs openn

cw/note: none! late night post, not requested but i had this idea while studying bc... shit has been going on in my life and i! need! comfort! lmk what you think, masterlist is on my page, take care of urselves, i am in no way saying love can cure mental illness in any of my posts btw! i thought i'd just clarify lol

mark... he's so touchy with you and he's such a nerd about it LOL, he loves you and freaks out. like yes he's confident don't get me wrong but once he sees you and realizes that he has you, he pounces. he hugs you so hard people might think you'd disappear. it's always so full of love and he has a geeky smile and you can hear his breathy giggles in your ear. also likes pulling your toes when you're on your bed scrolling in PEACE. he does it so hard and you never fail to fly off wherever you're sitting to chase him across the apartment. cheek pincher on the low. honestly loves any skin ship under the sun. especially on any exposed skin, smooches <3 shoulder kiss enthusiast and he's very good at it :') likes catching you off guard with any skin ship. pulls you tight whenever you sleep

renjun... hand tracing dear god. he loves your hands, no matter what they look like. YES i know its cliche but he loves messing with your rings, painting your nails, etc. he thinks he's being so slick and cool but he's so cute about it because he also doesn't care, like he has no reason to not show you how beautiful he believes every part of you is. sometimes he doesn't even notice, he just takes ahold of your wrists or forearm and drapes it on his lap. maybe he likes to put his fingers in ur mouth I DON'T KNOW??? esp when you wave ur finger in his face... not super touchy when cuddling but you always end up with his hand in yours. sometimes switches rings with you and doesn't notice until he's taking off his jewelry to go to bed and he's giggling into his hand like an 8 year old lol. likes pinching the skin on your upper back and thighs. finds comfort in tracing his fingertips on your collarbones before bed, helps you both fall asleep fast

jeno... god he's such a hip guy. loves a cheeky lil slap on the butt at any time of the day OFC but also just likes having his hands on your hips, likes to feel ur hipbones/curves y'know. you're so beautiful to him. he always pretends to get the wind knocked out of him when he sees u... hes so cheesy. sometimes when you're watching a movie he sits you between his legs and innocently snakes one finger under your clothes to feel the skin on the expanse on your upper hip and stomach. he loooves stomachs. especially if they're soft or not defined like those old greek paintings, he likes how different you feel from him if that makes sense.... bc he's lean. unless you're lean too he kinda gets fomo like damn did you hit the gym without him lol. also a cheek pincher, just likes messing with your face in general. cute sleeper, tucks you under his chin, ends up with his head under your shirt bc he gets cold at night and is always so surprised when he wakes up pfft. also an upper arm rubber. pls trace your finger on his nose brige.

haechan... mf. any skin ship have you seen this man. i will say the skin ship he has with you and the way he goes about it is different because he wants to make it a point that yes, he's touchy but only you get certain privileges or touches. especially when you two are alone. he likes to look at you while you sleep, not in a weird way he just likes that this is the one time you let him play with your hair and kiss your fingertips without you bursting into shy giggles. a lot of people think he would be a goofy bf and yeah that's true but he wants to so badly do well in this relationship. he cares about you so much. some nights when he looks at you he's thinks he just might cry. gives you lots of typical skin ship but also just is super domestic and sweet and considerate of your feelings. LOOVES, loves and i mean adores hiding his face in the crook of your neck, likes your natural scent sm, makes him smiley.

jaemin... like haechan he likes to watch you when you sleep but in the morning instead, when he wakes up before you. likes whispering things to you about how gorgeous he thinks you are and how can someone look so pretty when they've been tossing and turning all night. smiles to himself always. pokes your cheeks especially when you're puffy and sleepy. his favorite type of skin ship is pulling your cheek. he also likes brushing up your brows and running his thumb on your lower lip. gosh he's just so so sweet. he's obsessed with you in the best way. likes being around you. hand on the waist when he's trying to maneuver himself behind you to reach for his toothbrush in the bathroom > AGH. has no limits to how touchy he is in his mind. like if you are equally as touchy or just enjoy skin ship and don't mind him giving you puppy dog eyes through the mirror as he brushes your hair, its an easy open for him to do what he wants with you. I KNOW this is kinda all over the place but just imagine someone being in absolute adoration of you, your body, your skin, your face in a non creepy way LOL etc, etc. very wholesome

chenle... waist holder. oh MY god. he's not really touchy, in my opinion and from what i've seen, but he is a clinger. he likes skin ship mostly and only if he gets to initiate it. makes him feel manly muahaha. dont get me wrong, adores you doing slight skin ship with him but when he gets to tuck you under him at night or is able to trace the underside of your jaw. OH MY GOD he loves putting his finger under your chin to lift your face to look up at him please??? is so cocky about this and even if you're taller or his height, he loves to catch you when you're sitting down and it never fails to make you lose your mind. yeah yeah he likes it when you touch his neck, he's corny like that. laying your hand on his chest when you kiss GOD??? he combusts every time. it's moments like these where he doesn't mind you initiating touches bc it makes him feel special and wanted. please give him attention when you've seen he's had a hard day. he never knows how to ask for you, but now you've gotten into the swing of being around each other and learning what each other likes when it comes to skin to skin contact.

jisung... another fucking cheek poker dude. can never grasp the fact that yeah, you're sitting next to him, willingly watching his favorite movie with him, sharing a blanket, with the fresh cookies you made. wants to make sure you're real so he pokes you. he doesn't think he doesn't deserve you he just, is so proud of himself for bagging you and needs to make sure he isn't lucid dreaming LOL. ya'll need to wake up, yeah jisung has probably never had a relationship up until you but oh... oh once he learns how to fluster you, its like he hit the jackpot. knows how much you like him kissing the top of your spine before bed and you learned that tugging on the hairs and the nape of his neck has earned you several reactions in the past. its a very sweet and intimate relationship, watching the both of you test the waters with shy pecks or head pats until you finally date for long enough that he fully feels confident falling asleep on your chest with his arms caging around your waist. likes pretty basic skin ship, he't not a poet or anything yknow LMAO so expect a lot of neck pecks, head pats, hugs where he shifts his weight in between his feet and rocks you back and forth, he's just a sweetie

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jadeylovesmarvelxo · 2 months

Text

You and Eddie make plans to meet but you're struck down with a headache and flu like symptoms. Eddie surprises you when he comes to take care of you.

Part Three 💕

Fluff, part of the Older Eddie x Reader series. 18+ only

Part Four is in the works, some jealous Eddie 🤭

Part one

Part Two

🖤💫

Friday was one of your usual days to meet Eddie and you'd been looking forward to it since you last seen Eddie five days ago.

The urge to be with him grew stronger and stronger each day, no matter how hard you tried to bury down what you were feeling. Even at work you were distracted and moony or at least according to your friend Grant.

Today had been a long day. You had woke up feeling out of sorts, just tired and achy, an inetsnse building pressure in your temple- a majorly bad headache threatening to ruin your day.

Then you had a run in at work with your ex, he was as charming and cordial as ever which left you feeling worse. You couldn't wait to get home, shower and attempt to nip this headache in the bud before you met Eddie.

All of your plans fell apart as soon as you stepped foot inside your home. You did manage to shower, find some pain meds and change into your comfiest clothing, then you made a nest on your bed, could feel the headache pounding now and just wanted to sleep.

The pain was making your vision blur and your stomach turn with nausea. You decided to just try and sleep for a little bit, meet Eddie later. So you set an alarm and promptly feel asleep. Not even the alarm woke you up hours later.

🥰🖤

Eddie looked at the time, it was past eight thirty. Usually you and him met at seven but there was no sign of you. He knew you were home from work because when he was fixing up his bike outside you had arrived home from work.

Something didn't seem right then but Eddie pushed it aside. Attempted to clean up some of the shit laying around before your visit.

But then you didn't show and there was a feeling building up inside of Eddie, worry. It was gnawing at him that something wasn't right, like there was alarm bells in his head.

This wasn't good... he wasn't supposed to feel like this, wasn't used to anything beyond sex with someone so the worrying was new and unsettling.

Swearing under his breath he heads out and goes to check on you. The anxiety is heightened even more and he wonders if you had a run in with that shitty ex of yours.

Oh how Eddie would love to scare the shit out of that dickhead...

Your door is unlocked and he makes a mental note to tell you to lock your fucking door. Honestly you'd be the death of him at this rate.

He heads into your bedroom and stills. Finds you sprawled across your bed fast asleep, even still there's discomfort in your face. What the fuck had happened? Seeing you hadn't helped the worry one bit. Now he was more on edge than ever.

Cautiously he settles on the bed and gently feels your forehead. Winces at how warm to the touch you are, you moan and your eyes flutter open.

"Eddie" your voice is a little croaky, there's a small pout on your face as you feel your forehead and groan. "Shit, I need to get up, get some meds"

Woah. He guides you back into bed and you stumble a little bit "Easy sweetheart. You need to rest okay" he soothes you.

You mumble something under your breath and head back into bed. He smiles at the stubborn set in your eyes, normally he finds it cute and endearing but right now he just wants to make sure you're okay.

"What happened sweetheart?" he asks softly as you wince a little bit as you settle into bed.

"Headache, sick... You should go. I'll be okay" you stumble over your words, he shakes his head and find you another blanket and gets you a fresh glass of water and some meds.

"I'll make you some soup. It's my Uncle Wayne's recipe. Cure for all ailments sweetheart" There's a ghost of a smile on your face but you still look a bit out of it, still in pain.

He doesn't like seeing you in pain, it aches right down to his bones and he's surprised by the fierce urge to look after you, protect you from stupid flu bugs, the latter part is irrational he knows that but he can't help feeling it.

"Hey princess you gonna be a good girl for me and sit up? See if we can get you some food" you groan, pout (which is cute as fuck) and sit up all grumpy and tired.

"Just some soup princess okay? Then sleep" you nod and snuggle back under the covers while he proceeds to make the soup and listens incase you need anything else.

Once the soup is ready and you've ate your fill, Eddie makes sure you have more water.

"Just sleep sweetheart" he orders and you gently tug his arm, look at him all soft and hopeful.

"Can you stay with me?" he softens. He was planning on staying anyway but that look you're giving him tugs at his heart and he settles beside you.

It isn't long until you're fast asleep on Eddie's chest, Eddie keeping a close eye on you long into the night.

And that feeling of you being so close to him? Your head snuggled into his chest? He can't ignore the way this makes him feel.

A warmness spreads across his chest and he can't help the smile that stays with him all night.

❤️

🫶🏻

#eddie munson x reader #older eddie munson #eddie munson x you #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson x y/n

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silentcryracha · 11 months

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❍ ‗ Taking care of you during your period x hyung line (skz) ‗ ❍

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

Pairings : Chan x reader, Minho x reader, Changbin x reader, Hyunjin x reader

Genre/warnings : reader has periods, breasts are mentioned, mention of painkillers/mood swings/blood (yk), nothing else just fluff and really sweet boys

Summary : Like the title says, the oldest boys take care of you when you have your period. You are their s/o in this. Half headcanon and half scenarios.

Word count : 1.5 k

A/n : I'm currently on the FLOOR trying to get through this so I just, indulged myself I guess lmao! I hope it'll be an enjoyable read and also if any of y'all is also suffering now, good luck babes we got this <3

ps: There could be grammar errors, my first language isn't english!

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

Chan ‗ ❍

First of all, he wouldn't be weirded out or immature about it at all, he grew up with women in his family so he wouldn't be completely oblivious. Second thing, he seems to be natually very nurturing and attentive, so you know for sure that you'd be well taken care of, more than usual.

Depending on how this time of the month would be for you, he'd act accordingly. For example, if you are usually on time or late, if you tend to suffer more or less. In general he'd probably remember the days/week and always make sure to have a little bit of every essential thing at home beforehand. Sanitary products, painkillers, snacks, comfort food; you name it, he got it. Wether you lived together or not, doesn't matter.

In the best case scenario you'd just be having a shitty day and he would make sure to spend time with you (full day if he's not working, and even then he'd check on you multiple times), taking care of you, cuddling and probably babying you more than you need. And you'd let him of course, even just to show him you appreciated him caring for you. He would be really attentive but... chill at the same time. He just wants you to be comfortable, not further stress you out.

On the other hand, if you were someone who usually hurt a lot or maybe had some issues related to your condition, then he would be more clingy. If hugs and cuddles were an actual solution you'd be CURED.

He hated seeing you in pain regardless, but if the pain in question was out of the norm/more severe he would absolutely be in the worst mood. Again, every supply possible would to be 100% ready at the right times, and you truly wouldn't be allowed to lift a finger.

"Channie, baby, I've been handling this stuff since forever, I'll be fine, okay?" and then he'd frown and pout like "But I want to take care of my baby, that's the least I can do". Of course you wouldn't be able to refuse him even if you wanted to, so you'd just end up accepting the help making sure to thank him all the time to let him know how grateful you were for him. <3

Minho ‗ ❍

Minho just kind of learned along the way how to take care of you at the best of his abilities. Something that seems to be very important to him is health, and you having your period to him it's almost like a seasonal cold. Something that just kind of happens? He would learn which foods or beverages help the pain/body, or the things that would make you feel better, but he'd be kinda random about it? lol.

"You know what? I really feel like eating some good meat for dinner" and he'd pull some shit like "Actually, I was thinking of salmon for tonight. You know, it would be very good for you now", Not gonna lie you would be lowkey impressed that he bothered to search up stuff like that in the first place. He wouldn't be pushy though, he couldn't deny you even if he tried. Want a specific dinner/dessert? It's yours. You want to watch a movie and cuddle? Done. Or do you just want to sleep and hug? Good enough for him. He just really wants you to have a calm and comfortable day.

This being handled as a health matter would also mean that he'd probably be quite precise with keeping track of the days/week. If being irregular wasn't a usual thing for you, one day late and he'd be asking questions lol.

"How are you feeling?" "Do you need anything from the store?" "Need any help?" and so on. Especially if we were talking about a person with more severe pain/issues.

At this point he would be a little more insistent with the whole "take care of yourself right" but only out of worry and you knew it. "I made some ginger tea for you" "But-" and you wouldn't be able to finish the sentence without him raising one eyebrow like 'I dare you'. Two minutes after the cup was EMPTY. You'd also get belly rubs with warm hands afterwards so it's okay :')

Minho would never miss to make you feel loved and taken care of, it's like he needs you to know that you can count on him whenever you need.

Changbin ‗ ❍

Changbin also grew up with a sister but I feel like he was the baby of the family so I think he'd try to replicate that more than anything. His s/o would be treated like royalty regardless, don't get me wrong, but during this time I feel like he'd feel bad for you and the fact that he can't really help, and would try to 'fix it' by indulging you a lot.

He probably wouln't keep track of the days/week, just in general. But, I think that he'd realize it quickly when you start acting a little off or being fatigued, and at that point he'd piece it together quickly and offer his help if he can. And if he can't, then he'll just settle with random gifts that could cheer you up. It could be something cute like a plushie, a treat like your favorite sweets, or something more unique like an expensive gift. You don't want him to spend such money on you, but you lowkey know that's his love language and appreciate it ten times more for it. He would also remind you of it "Shh, you know I love to spoil my princess", that would make you melt and he knows it well.

In a more severe case I think that he would make sure to not let you lift a finger. Dinner? Dishes? Medicines? Cuddles? Tissues for a particularly off moment? The remote being an inch too far? HE'S GOT IT. Changbin would also probably try to be there for you physically during this time and would get annoyed when he can't manage. At that point expect multiple calls and texts throught the day and maybe even a few cute selfies too that would never fail to make you smile and lift your mood.

If you happened to be crying, he would try to handle himself but just wouldn't be able to do it so you'd probably have a nice liberating ugly cry session together and then fall asleep hugged comfortably :(

He would also make sure that you're comfortable wherever you are, and that usually means completely laying on him, the best pillow in the house.

Hyunjin ‗ ❍

Hyunjin is shy and an empath, we know. I feel like at the beginning of your relationship he could be a little uncomfortable handling this situation, mainly because he'd like to help in some way but would be unsure of how to ask. You would also probably try to hide it or not mention it, you know like in early stages of any relationship, but out of shyness more than anything. You know he's a very sweet guy and he would probably feel bad that you feel bad. And he does.

One day during movie night you'd probably unintentionally flinch or hiss at the pain and then he'd decide that he had ENOUGH and would blurt out a "Can I do anything for you?". You'd be kind of taken aback but appreciate it a lot. You would give in "Yes actually" you wouldn't have to say it twice before he's back with what you asked for.

From that moment on I feel like it would be a process for him to learn how to know you and your needs and after a while he would just...do it. Which were your habits or comfort foods, your preferred type of sanitary products to use, what could make you uncomfortable and so on.

I feel like he wouldn't necessarily intentionally keep track of it but would randomly look at the date and go "Mhh, isn't this that time of the month?" and you'd probably show up with a belly ache and an extreme need of hugs so yeah he'd be like "I figured" and kind of laugh at you being cute.

You'd probably have something silly like a "Cursed week" playlist to cry to or a specific list of things to watch that would absolutely wreck you emotionally because why not. And you'd plan it together and go back to them like a routine. You probably have a very sad or angsty tv show/drama that you go back to once a month just to either cry your eyes out or comment together like two bitter old ladies. And you have a blast.

Hyunjin would try to be lowkey about it though. Once he learned how to properly take care of you he would just do things and not be obnoxious about it. Like he would be they type to leave a sticky note for you before leaving for work that said "Good morning my love. Remember to take it easy and take some medicine if you need, I love you <3"

In general I think that he would be the type to try and distract you as much as possible, wether it was with some nice cuddles to warm you up or even tease you to make you laugh. He could be out of pocket sometimes but that's exactly what makes it hilarious.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

This is it for the hyung line! Maknae line link. Hope you enjoyed my silly writing, feel free to leave feebacks if you feel like it :')

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rookthorne · 10 months

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⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂ 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐁𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐓𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭

Bucky being a nurse meant that he knew of many ailments, as well as how to treat or cure them. It was just your luck that he knew exactly how to take care of you, in every way you needed him to.

჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻ 𝒑𝒂𝒊𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒈 ღ Nurse!Bucky Barnes x F!Reader

჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻ 𝒘𝒐𝒓𝒅 𝒄𝒐𝒖𝒏𝒕 ღ 1.8k

჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻ 𝒘𝒂𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒔 ღ Fluff ჻჻჻ SMUT: Thigh riding, Soft Dom!Bucky ჻჻჻ KINKS: Praise, daddy, uniform

჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻ 𝒂𝒖𝒕𝒉𝒐𝒓 𝒏𝒐𝒕𝒆 ღ Y'all can thank @smutconnoisseur for this, and this ask. It's all her fault — I am innocent in this.

჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻ 𝒂𝒏𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒎 ღ Say It Right by Nelly Furtado

჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻ 𝒆𝒗𝒆𝒏𝒕𝒔 ღ @buckybarnesevents Hot Bucky Summer ჻჻჻ Week 3 — In My Lap — Masterlist ღ @mcukinkbingo 𝗕𝟭 — Character dresses in uniform — Masterlist

𝐀 𝐇𝐞𝐫𝐨 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

There had been an itch under your skin all day – hours on end of feeling restless, misplaced, and yearning for something. It had worsened tenfold the moment Bucky had walked out to leave for work, his bag slung over his shoulder, dressed in scrubs and his long hair tied back in a ponytail that rested against the back of his neck. It was training day, a small relief where you knew he would be working at a normal pace, and not go to super soldier lengths.

“Catch you when I get back, sweetheart,” Bucky had said, parting with a chaste kiss to your lips and a small smile. “Behave.”

You sent him away with a simple, “Stay safe, babe,” and that was that.

That was forever ago, and Bucky was due home any moment. You were waiting, quite desperately, to hear the sound of his shoes on the landing of the front door. The sound of Bucky’s bag shifting on his shoulder sounded far too real, and close. Perking up from your perch on the couch, you realised something – that wasn’t in your head, those sounds were at the door.

He was home.

“Hey, baby- Whoa!” Bucky rushed, catching you in his arms as you slammed into his chest. “Holy shit, sweetheart–are you alright?”

In lieu of an answer, you crashed your lips against his. The urge to pour your need into it overpowered your sense of rationality, but Bucky only kissed back after dropping his bag to pull you closer.

“Ba- Wait, hang on,” he gasped, his breath fanning over your lips. “What is this? Are you alright?”

You nodded and groped for Bucky’s hand, pulling it along as you stepped into the living room. “Need you,” you mumbled.

Realisation dawned in Bucky’s darkening eyes. “You need me, huh?” he mused, stopping short. “Let me get outta these scrubs- What?”

At his words, you shook your head and glanced up and down his body. The shoes he was wearing were long discarded by the door, and the light blue scrub pants – they hugged his thighs, just shy of too tight, and the matching light blue scrub shirt pulled taut across his chest when he inhaled, or moved his arms. His clip on ID tag rustled against the fabric with every shift of the fabric, and the sleeves showed off his biceps. The very same arms that held you as you broke and pulled you back together, the exact same arms that he used to selflessly care for others, day in, and day out.

You couldn’t take it anymore.

“Keep them on,” you whispered, and Bucky’s eyes widened slightly. “Y-You look–” The sudden stutter frustrated you beyond belief, but you barrelled on, fuelled by the patient, soft gaze Bucky gave you. “You look good in them, please don’t take them off.”

Bucky chuckled and shook his head, stepping into your space to brush your cheek with his thumb. “Is that so? That’s what you want?”

You couldn’t decipher his intentions with his guarded expression, but the blue of his eyes was rapidly disappearing behind the black of his pupils. Taking a step closer, you took Bucky’s thumb into your mouth, nodding slowly.

“Oh, baby girl,” Bucky breathed, biting his lips. “Y’know I’d do anything for you–I’ll keep ‘em on, especially since you asked so nicely, huh?”

“Thank you,” you whispered – grateful for his understanding. “Please, need–”

“Panties off. C’mon,” Bucky interrupted, moving to the couch and sitting down heavily, a low groan in his throat that shot straight between your thighs. The fabric of the scrubs hugged his thighs so tightly as he spread his legs, you were shocked they didn’t split the seam. He cleared his throat and you glanced up, not realising you had been openly staring, when he slapped his thigh. “Sit down–right here, sweetheart.”

“Okay,” you replied, pulling off your panties before you climbed into his lap, just as he asked. “This is… strange.”

Bucky chuckled and moved his hands to rest on your hips, a brow raised in question. “Strange?”

“Haven’t really… been in this position, before,” you mumbled, a stab of insecurity tampering the flames. “That’s all. And your thighs are fucking huge.” They were – your own legs had to stretch a decent amount to sit comfortably down on the corded muscle that kept twitching and tensing as he started to laugh.

“My thighs are huge, huh?” Bucky mused, his gaze flickering between your eyes and lips. “You know I have to make sure they’re the best seat in the house for my girl, right? You have to be comfortable.”

The two of you started to laugh again, the tension and awkwardness vanishing in an instant. A comfortable silence settled as you stared at him, biting your lip from nerves. “Kiss me,” Bucky said suddenly, pulling your face to his by the back of your neck.

Your lips met his softly, a gentle kiss that deepened when he swiped his tongue over your lip, asking to explore, and you granted it. An urge to move – get closer – overcame you and you shifted, eliciting a quiet gasp of shock when the pressure against your bare cunt became much firmer. Bucky pulled back and grinned. “That feel good, baby?”

“Y-Yeah,” you rushed, looking at him while furrowing your brows. “I didn’t think it would, I mean–”

“Shh,” Bucky soothed, and his hands tightened on your hips. “I’m going to take control, and you just let yourself feel, alright, sweetheart? Let daddy take care of you–make you feel good.”

The air left your lungs sharply as his words cascaded over you, sweeping you away from the anxiety and nerves of being in unfamiliar territory. “Okay,” you murmured, and Bucky smiled softly.

“Thank you, my pretty girl,” Bucky praised, and his hands pulled you forward, the drag of his clothes against your bare clit made you shiver, your hands instinctively flying to Bucky’s broad shoulders to ground yourself. “Gonna go back now…”

A quiet moan fell from your lips at the sensation. “Oh, wow,” you giggled.

“Want me to go faster, baby?” He sounded amused – smug bastard, you thought.

You nodded quickly, gripping the fabric of his shirt tight in your fists. “Please.”

“Alright, hold tight–you can pull my hair if you want, too,” Bucky offered, and it was your turn to raise a brow at him, though your hand moved to his messy ponytail anyway, freeing it so it fell to his shoulders. He kissed you quickly and you sighed against his lips. “Thank you, baby,” he murmured.

Slowly, Bucky moved you back and forth, each pass over his thigh a little faster than the last, and every small whimper was met with praise and a kiss to your neck. “So pretty like this, baby girl,” Bucky said, his words ghosting over your skin as he pulled you down harder around his thigh. “Think you can come like this, all over my scrubs? Make a fuckin’ mess?”

“Feels s’good,” you moaned, pulling at his hair and fisting his shirt. “Don’t stop, please, please- Daddy, fuck–”

“I won’t, jus’ feel for me, sweetheart,” Bucky groaned, his hands moving you faster so your moans became high pitched and wanton. “Such a good girl for me, so fuckin’ dirty too–look at you.”

Pleasure burned through every nerve and your breath hitched, the feeling of being pulled under approaching faster than you had ever experienced – was it that this position was entirely new and vulnerable? Was it the fact that you were ruining his uniform with slick and he was encouraging it?

Your jaw fell slack when Bucky sped up his hands, your hips now rocking back and forth steadily with slicked ease. The sudden urge to look down into his lap overwhelmed you, and you did, moaning loudly at the sight – a large wet patch had formed over the top of his thigh, spreading down the sides the more you moved. “Oh, god, daddy–”

“Yeah, baby girl, that’s all you,” Bucky breathed, his voice hitching on a moan when you fisted his hair through a harsh rock of your hips. “Look at the fuckin’ mess you’ve made on me, sweetheart–fuckin’ look at it.”

“I am, oh fuck, I am-” A choked off moan fell from your lips when a sharp stab of sensation shot through your clit. “Please, please!”

Bucky grinned at you and somehow moved his hands even faster – he was revelling in the high whine that built in your throat from the pace. “You wanna come?”

“Mhm, mhm,” you hiccuped, flexing your hands again in Bucky’s hair to hear a quiet hiss at the sharp sting. “I’m close!”

“Give it to me, then, baby,” Bucky growled, his tone dark and his eyes even darker. “Let go, soak my fuckin’ thigh, sweetheart, now.”

Bucky’s words washed over you and forced you under, your back bowing and pushing your chest into his face, his pace never faltering as you crested through your climax – toes curling next to his knees and hands gripping tighter than iron in his hair and shirt. “Coming! ‘M coming!”

“Good girl! That’s it, let it out, c’mon,” Bucky cooed, slowing down as you began to twitch and shake. “Did so well for me, sweetheart, so good for me.”

“Bucky,” you sighed, slumping in his hold as the frenetic and desperately energy that had you in its grip all day ebbed away.

“C’mere,” Bucky murmured, and he pulled you into his chest, wrapping his arms around your back to embrace you tightly. “You with me, baby?”

“Yeah,” you murmured. Your limbs felt loose and your mind floaty, but much calmer and quieter. “Sorry I jumped you, couldn’t help it.”

A laugh shook Bucky’s shoulders, and he squeezed you, before placing a soft kiss on your temple. “Not gonna lie, baby, but if that’s the greetin’ I get every time I walk through that door, you’ll not find me complainin’–not one bit.”

“And I ruined your scrubs…” You mumbled sheepishly, shuddering at the feel of wet fabric between your thighs.

“I’ll let you in on a secret, sweetheart,” Bucky replied, and he moved you off his chest to look you in the eye. His gaze was heated, and if you weren’t still recovering from your climax, you would have begun to grind in earnest. “That was the hottest thing I’ve ever seen, and you better fuckin’ do it again–you got no idea how you make me feel when you’re like that. And, baby,” he murmured as you bowed your head in a sudden, overwhelming shyness. His fingers tipped your chin back up so you could see his soft smile. “Daddy loves the way you make him feel–don’t you dare stop.”

Bucky surged forward and kissed you hungrily, and with that, you fell pliant in his arms once again.

⠈⠂⠄ 𝐢𝐧𝐛𝐨𝐱 | 𝐥𝐢𝐛𝐫𝐚𝐫𝐲 | 𝐚𝐨𝟑 ⠄⠂⠁

⠈⠂⠄ 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 | 𝐜𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 ⠄⠂⠁

#bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes x f!reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky x female reader #bucky x f!reader #bucky x reader #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes oneshot #hotbuckysummer2023 #rookthorne's works #Treatment

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rebelfell · 6 months

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Needed a hit of modern!wealthy!Steve that’s kind of an amalgam of all my favorites (wcil, dcmb, pbv, I’m looking at you 👀). Only alludes to smut, reference to rimming, and a whisper of dom!Steve. Otherwise just bunch of fluff.

I’m just in a mood where I want to be spoiled within an inch of my life is that so wrong?? 18+ MDNI 2k

Throbbing. Aching. Pounding.

Your head was on fire when you awoke—basted in sweat, somehow also shivering as you dragged yourself out from under the blankets you had twisted yourself up in during the night.

Steve’s bedroom was dark and cool as a cave, thermostat turned way down and the ceiling fan set to its highest setting, though it barely made a sound. Sitting on the bedside table was a chilled Voss water bottle and a small ceramic dish with some Advil in it that was beckoning.

It had been years since you were this hungover. Close to a decade, almost. You remembered the feeling well, though you were far less equipped to shake it off in your “advancing” age.

Eagerly, you took the much needed pills and gulped down the water. A shudder ran through you as you recalled how, in your twenties, you would cure a morning like this with bottomless mimosas. Just the thought made your stomach churn. It was a miracle you hadn’t thrown up.

You didn’t do this anymore. You went out, sure. You got a little tipsy and sometimes maybe that turned into a lot tipsy. You were supposed to be smarter now, though. Older. Wiser.

But when your old college friends called and said they were going to be in town for just one night—and you just so happened to be getting off work early, and you had the next day off…

What exactly were you supposed to do?

Evidently, the answer was mainline tequila and dance to 90s music until your muscles went limp—not that you even felt it with the liquor coursing through your body. All to end the night stumbling across the threshold of your boyfriend’s swanky penthouse at nearly two in the morning.

You only half-remembered getting to Steve’s, incapable of resisting the allure of him and his Savoir bed in your drunken state. You had sunk into the plump mattress and practically floated, weightless as you drifted off to sleep. Steve still refused to tell you how much it cost, fearful you would never agree to sleep in it again after you found out. But you’d googled it and holy fucking shit was he right to be worried. It was so nice, though—stuffed (apparently) with sheep’s wool, pure cashmere and Mongolian yak hair. Of all his rich guy stuff that both perplexed and allured you simultaneously, that one was your favorite.

The sound of Steve moving around in the kitchen as well as the clinking of his stainless steel cook-ware drew you out of hiding. You shuffled out of his room sluggishly, hugging your glass water bottle to your chest like a teddy bear.

“Hey, killer.”

Steve’s smile was so dazzlingly bright it actually made you wince. How did you not noticeyou were dating a damn Crest commercial? Grumbling your good morning, you squinted at the massive floor-to-ceiling windows of his apartment and had to resist the urge to hiss.

“Whoops—sorry, baby, hang on.”

He quickly tugged his phone out of his pocket and swiped his thumb across the screen, tapping it on some controls. There’s a soft electrical whir you know well, and the apartment goes from painfully bright to comfortably dim as his remote controlled curtains begin to descend. Rather than the blackout shades drawn in the bedroom, he’s opted for the regular ones so a bit of natural light can still filter through as he makes his breakfast.

Or, at least what you thought was his breakfast.

“I didn’t think you’d be up this soon,” he said with a chuckle, sliding a freshly poured cup of coffee across the counter to you.

“I’m not,” you muttered. “I’m pretty sure I’m dead and astral projecting what’s left of my soul.”

A steaming plate of eggs piled with cubed ham, green pepper and cheese promptly appeared in front of you as you took a seat at his vast kitchen island. It sits in a scrambled heap, not the pretty omelet you were guessing Steve had planned to present you with. But it looks divine regardless.

“Another failed attempt?” you chuckled, taking the fork he was holding out.

“I’m gonna get it one of these days,” he replies with an easy smile.

With an elaborate flourish you know is for your benefit, he slapped the dish towel in his hand over his shoulder and leaned on the counter as he waited to watch you take your first bite.

“Ugh,” you moaned as you brought the fork to your lips. “So fucking good.”

Your stomach quivered with relief at finally having something in it that wasn’t liquor, but you willed it to behave and hoped it would settle the more you had. Steve smirked.

“So, how much do you remember?”

The cocky smile on the boy’s lips tells you you should be glad your memory is hazy. The night was coming back to you in flashes, but they were blurred and jumbled.

You weren’t blacked out or anything, your friends would have never let you leave alone if you were, but you were definitely past the point of thinking even remotely rationally. Hence, why you’d shown up here when you found out Steve was still awake after having to get on a conference call with one of his company’s international contingents.

You remembered tumbling into a cab and the driver rolling his eyes when you slurred at him to take you to Steve’s house before prompting you for, you know, an actual address.

And Steve had helped you dress for bed, gently batting away your hands when you tried to paw at the waistband of his sweatpants. It only made you more determined, snaking fingers into his tousled brown hair or raking your nails down his muscled chest—stopping when you noticed one of them had broken and the polish was starting to chip.

You didn’t care, though. You were too hungry for him. Too fucking ravenous.

“You better behave,” he’d warned, eyes flashing with that look you loved. The one that made your insides squirm and your thighs press.

“Or what?” you’d teased, still toying with the drawstring of his thin sweats.

“Or you’ll be sorry.”

He tried to keep up his firm demeanor, but the little twitch in the corner of his mouth betrayed him. The words and his smooth, authoritative voice still made your heart race, though.

You loved it when he made you sorry.

Steve wouldn’t do anything, though. Aside from a few kisses he refused to deepen and a graze (or two) of your hand he let you get away with, Steve kept things very PG-13. He helped you out of your dress and brushed a soft cloth across your face to remove your make-up.

He got you into comfy clothes and swaddled the two of you in bed after you’d finished the Voss he added a Liquid IV to. They were supposed to be for the trail runs he liked to do on the weekends, but they were good to have on hand for nights like this. In seconds you went limp and pliant in his arms and fell asleep with him stroking your hair, his warm breath tickling the shell of your ear.

“I remember you taking care of me,” you said, giving him a sweet smile before you squished your eyes closed in shame. “And I know I was kinda worked up.”

Steve chuckled at that, taking a sip of his own coffee. “I noticed.”

A loud groan came out of you, though this one wasn’t from the pain in your head.

You’d conveniently left your phone in the bedroom, too embarrassed to even look at your text thread with him from last night. Because you did vaguely recall a slew of blue bubbles filled with increasingly lewd comments and promises of what you were going to do to him that you had no business promising in your current state.

You imagined they read like a horny haiku.

I’m coming for you, baby

Hahah that’s what she said.

Or…what I said?

Whatever

I need you so bad

Wanna kiss every mole on your body

I think your little hole misses me, wants my tongue again

Want you to fuck me until we break that 30,000 dollar bed

You wondered if there was a way to remotely delete texts? From your phone…from your brain.

Drunken you’s tendency to write sexts your pussy couldn’t cash was one of your least appealing qualities, in your opinion. You got yourself all riled up just to pass out within ten minutes. But it entertained Steve to no end seeing that side of you, so unlike the coy and demure front you usually tried to put up.

“I was kind of a mess, wasn’t I? I can’t believe I did that.”

“Hey, don’t start,” Steve cooed, coming around the island and coiling you up in his arms. “You work hard, you deserve to have some fun. And it’s your day off, who cares if you’re hungover?”

The smell of his aftershave filled your nose as he hugged you and his hands came up to cradle your face as he planted a kiss on your forehead, barely phased by how clammy it was.

“You know, we can cancel date night if you don’t feel up to it. Just order in? Watch a movie?”

“No, no need,” you said. “I’ll be okay. I’m already feeling better.”

A lie. But you at least felt like you might feel better soon, so that was something. And Steve had been looking forward to trying this restaurant since he got the reservation.

“Okay, great.” Steve smiled. “So we’ll have dinner at 6, then the show…I’m thinking maybe we’ll skip cocktails and do dessert at that little place you like instead?” he asked.

You hummed at the thought of a warm, gooey blondie topped with vanilla ice cream and maple syrup from your favorite dessert bar. Steve smiled and nodded knowingly as he started to gather his laptop and a few other things into his work bag.

“You want me to send the car here or to your place to pick you up?”

“Mine,” you sighed. “I gotta pick something else to wear now.”

A sour frown covered your face as you thought of the dress you had intended to wear tonight, but had wound up being drafted for your clubbing extravaganza. It was just too tempting, ready and waiting for you hanging on the back of your door when you rushed home to get ready for your impromptu plans.

It had ended up in a heap somewhere last night as Steve helped you out of it, his nose wrinkling when he noticed how it reeked of the Guiness some jerk spilled on you at the last bar you went to before calling it a night. And it wasn’t lost on you that it was missing now, probably having been sent out for drycleaning with some of Steve’s suits and dress shirts.

Steve just smiled, his voice playful as his eyes twinkled.

“How about you buy something new instead?” he asked. “Go see my girl. Maybe she’s got a spare dress or something laying around.”

You rolled your eyes. His personal seamstress never had spare bespoke dresses just laying around. The twinkle in his eye made you guess, correctly, that he had already commissioned something for you weeks ago or had her tailor a piece for you he’d found himself.

“You did look good in the other one, though.” he mused. “I’m glad I got to see it.”

You sighed and shoveled down another bite of your breakfast. “I’m sorry I just showed up like that. I, ahh…wasn’t thinking super clearly.”

“Don’t be silly,” Steve said. “I’m always happy to see you. Plus it’s…it’s kinda nice when you get that way. All needy for me.”

His warm lips pressed against your throat, vibrating with a soft moan as he left a trail of delicate kisses up the column of your neck to the sensitive spot behind your ear.

“Just stay here,” he pleaded softly. “You know you like my bed better.”

A sigh released from deep in your chest and you melted into his touch as one of his broad palms coasted across your thigh, making your skin buzz under his hand. Hanging out here was sounding better by the second. You already had some clothes in the drawer he’d cleared out for you in his closet and you could get in and out of his place fine with the keycard he’d given you.

The amenities were awfully tempting. You thought of his sleek, modern bathroom that looked more like it belonged in a spa rather than someone’s home, complete with a seemingly endless array of aromatherapy products. You could continue your ongoing affair with his steam shower and the massage cycle in his bathtub. And his building had a rooftop gym that was basically private when all the other executives who lived here were off at work.

“Okay,” you sighed, playing up the dramatics with a flutter of your lashes. “If I have to.”

Steve chuckled at your sarcasm and gave your thigh a tight squeeze.

“Think you’ll get your nails done today?” he asked, remembering your adorably forlorn look when you noticed the break last night.

“Actually, I could,” you said, thinking. Your nail lady’s shop was only a few blocks from here.

Before you’d even answered, his leather wallet had come out of his jacket pocket and he was tugging crisp notes from the billfold.

“Steve, you don’t have to—”

“Baby, please?” he pouted, jutting out his plush bottom lip at you. “It’s for me.”

“How are my nails for you?” you snorted and tried to bite back a smile. It didn’t work.

“You need fresh claws if you’re gonna scratch my back up right,” he teased lowly, slipping bills into your hand. Way too much, way more than you needed to leave Mariana a great tip.

“So you can have a pedicure too.”

He answered the thought you hadn’t spoken and his mouth covered yours, cutting off any further protests with one last long kiss.

“See you tonight, baby,” he said. His lips skimmed your jaw and his voice lowered to a heated whisper in your ear. “And don’t think I forgot about making you sorry later.”

With that, he snatched up his bag and breezed out the door, leaving you breathless staring after him. And suddenly it wasn’t your hangover that had your stomach doing somersaults.

#steve harrington #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x fem reader #steve harrington fanfiction #steve harrington one shot #steve harrington blurb #steve harrington fluff #steve stranger things

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waynes-multiverse · 1 month

Text

Rehab – Epilogue

Series Summary: Thanks to Soldier Boy, the CIA was able to develop Project Bloom under the fierce leadership of Grace Mallory: a final cure to Compound V and a hopeful end to the supe epidemic three years after the explosive incident at Vought. A secret rehab facility in Upstate New York is supposed to help former heroes find their way back to humanity. The catch, though? Soldier Boy has never fucking agreed to any of this shit and is surely not happy about being powerless for the first time in his goddamn long life.

Pairing: Soldier Boy/Ben x Female!Reader

Warnings: +18, language, some crack, a bit of fluff and angst, hard decisions, a lot of goodbyes & all the feels

Word Count: 4.5k

A/N: We're here, babes! End of the road! Thank you guys so much for everything. This was a wild ride, and I'm glad I had you in my passenger's seat 💚

Feedback is my fuel 🖤

<< Chapter 8 || Main Masterlist || Series Masterlist

Epilogue: twin flame

You’re gonna be nowhere The loneliest kind of lonely It may be rough goin’ Just to do your thing’s the hardest thing to do…

“Morning.” Y/N smiles brightly as he stirs and slowly wakes. “Wakey, wakey, sunshine.”

Blue eyes flutter open and fearfully widen, his brow scrunches in confusion as he looks around and scans his environment. He tries to wiggle free of the handcuffs around his wrists, keeping him tied to the metal bed frame.

Not that it matters – he can’t leave either way.

She turns off the radio with a blissful sigh. “You know, that was one of his favorite songs. Your father’s,” she clarifies. “He sang it all the time. It was fucking annoying.”

“Why the hell can’t I move? Get me the fuck out of here,” the man in a sky-blue hospital gown demands and lifts his head off the mattress, only a few inches, attempting to get up.

Needless to say, that attempt is futile and fails miserably.

“Don’t strain yourself, John, or you might shit the bed. And I ain’t cleaning that mess… You’ve been in a coma for three weeks,” Y/N tells him with an amused smile. “Oh, and you can’t move because you’re paralyzed from the waist down. I even doubt that meager dick’s still working.”

His nostrils flare and let out a huff. “It’s Homelander, you bitch. No one calls me by that name.”

“Yeah, not anymore.” Y/N twitches her shoulders in mock apology. Her mouth curves into a Machiavellian grin. “Scared yet?”

“Where the fuck am I?” he growls through gritted teeth, upset by her blatant disrespect.

“You’re at a rehab facility for former supes. I mean, it’s discontinued. Abandoned, really. It’s just you and me,” she replies flatly and then forces a customer-service smile to her lips. “So, guess I’ll be your nurse for the day. How are we doing, you–”

Her brow furrows as she tries to remember the exact words, pensively pursing her lips.

“Wait…” She holds up a finger to stop him from interrupting her as she fishes out a crumpled piece of paper from her jeans pocket. She squints her eyes in concentration as she skims over its content.

“Ah yes!” With a smile, she clears her throat and reads from her paper. “So, how are you doing, you bootlicking… carpet-munching… cockboy?”

Homelander frowns at the insults. Y/N does too, but for a different reason as she shakes her head.

“Jesus fucking Christ, your dad’s handwriting is an atrocity,” she mutters as she tilts her head with narrowed eyes at the paper in her hands.

The blond man’s eyes narrow in both shock and confusion. “How do you know my father?”

“Oh, uhm, I’m his wife,” Y/N says and smiles complacently. “Which technically makes me your step-mommy, but let’s not go there, you–… Wait.” She peeks once more at the paper in her hands. “You cumguzzling… cowfucking… cuck fluffer.” Her brow draws up, impressed. “Huh, nice. Little alliteration going on there. Guess all those books paid off…”

“Can we skip to the part where you tell me what the fuck you’re doing here?” Homelander snaps impatiently, annoyed with the shenanigans.

“Alright, your dad sent me here to, you know… gloat,” Y/N says simply and shrugs, flashing him an easy smile. “He wanted you to know that he’s the one that put you into this damn bed. Funnily enough, he once woke up in this very room, tied to a bed. Not in a kinky way, though. Although, he probably would’ve loved that…” She chuckles fondly. “This place really changed him, but I doubt it’ll do the same for you.”

“And why the fuck isn’t he here telling me this, huh?” John asks with a challenging look. “I didn’t reckon him for a fucking coward.”

Y/N’s facade cracks a little at his words, a vicious smile tugging at her lips. “Oh, he was not a coward. He was the bravest man I’ve ever known. He was and is a fucking hero and surely getting celebrated as one.”

Y/N leans back in her chair and grabs the remote from the bedside table, switching on the TV. A news report flickers across the screen. It’s a recording from a few weeks ago, but Homelander doesn’t know that. It shows a row of celebratory parades held all over the country. A statue of Soldier Boy is being erected next to the Statue of Liberty.

Homelander finally defeated. Soldier Boy dies a hero in fierce combat. America breathes a sigh of relief.

Homelander watches the news and reads the taglines as they scroll in front of his eyes. His mouth is agape in bewilderment before Y/N switches the television off again.

“Everyone loves him… and fucking hates you. Like spit-on-your-grave hate,” she summarizes and watches his face darken. She rises from her seat and smiles down at him. “Have a nice life chained to that bed till you rot to death, you dickfaced, inbred, garbage-eating fascist.”

With a wide smirk, she then leans down and whispers into his ear, “Those were my insults, by the way.”

“Well, he’s dead, and I’m fucking alive, which means I won,” Homelander snarls from the bed with a contrivedly triumphant sneer, rattling with his handcuffs. He’s close to an explosion, she can tell.

“Yeah, you’d be telling yourself that if it makes you feel better…”

With a roll of her eyes, Y/N turns her back. As she marches out of the room, Homelander’s furious screams of agony haunt the clinic’s empty hallways, but there is no one here to hear them anymore.

Project Bloom has been disbanded. There’s only a handful of CIA nurses left, tasked to take care of Homelander until his hopefully slow and painful death. If someone decides to hold a pillow over his head at any point, she supposes she wouldn’t be that mad about it either.

Homelander is history. Soldier Boy is dead. And Ben is at rest.

Finally, Y/N can leave this godforsaken place behind her.

Y/N slides into the driver’s seat of her Prius, her head falling back as she exhales a long, exhaustive breath and rubs her temples. That damn brat gave her a fucking migraine with his whiny bitching.

“Finally,” it huffs from the backseat. “Took you long enough. How the fuck did it go?”

Y/N blinks into the rearview mirror and catches a set of expectant green eyes. Her hand drops from her temples as she chuckles.

“Your handwriting is horrible,” she says as a response and pulls out the paper, pointing at a word. “What the hell is that one?”

Ben leans forward between the seats and squints his eyes. “Mmh, pube flosser,” he supplies and frowns. “You didn’t use that one?”

Y/N sighs. “I think he’s got the gist without it.”

“Yeah, but that was a good one,” Ben mumbles and sighs disappointedly. “Did you play him the song?”

“Yes, I did. I played him the song and did everything else you wanted me to do,” she confirms patiently. “You know, you’ve got a weird knack for torture.”

“Thank you. It’s a gift.” Ben blushes and adjusts his baseball cap. “Did you sell it properly? You know, acting is a skill. The most important thing is to–”

“Ben! For the love of God, shut up or I’ll run you over with my car,” Y/N snaps. If he gives her one more acting lesson, she swears she’ll turn herself a widow.

“Fine.” Ben scoffs and rolls his eyes back. “Did he fucking buy it?”

“Yup, he surely thinks you’re dead. Like the rest of the world,” Y/N says and shoots him a smile over her shoulder.

He matches it and scratches his shaved chin, letting himself fall back into the seat. “Good. So, we’re done, right?”

“Yeah, he was the last stop on our list,” she replies quietly, her smile mixing with sadness. “How’s the arm?”

“Good, good…” He nods, his head bobbing thoughtfully as he clutches the scar on his right bicep. “Healing nicely. Finally got a real war wound. Always wanted one.”

“Okay, then… Let’s go, I guess.” With a heavy swallow, Y/N turns the ignition and starts the car.

“You know, I’d really love to kiss you now,” Ben notes, heartache swinging in his voice, and finds her eyes in the rearview mirror.

Y/N bites down on her lip and nods. “Yeah, wouldn’t that be nice…”

Three weeks ago…

A guard gestures down the hallway to the restrooms, but as soon as Y/N rounds the corner and is out of sight, she takes a turn in the opposite direction.

The good thing about a super secret government facility that’s not supposed to exist is that it only comes with the necessary manpower. There’s no abundance of guards at every corner. It’s quiet and desolate.

Moreover, no one expects a silly and weak human to cause any trouble. It surely has its advantages to be constantly underestimated.

Y/N finds the lab she’s passed on their way in, where she spied a glass fridge with vials of different colors. It’s guarded, but only by one person. It’s sloppy, honestly.

A flirty ambush, a stab to the neck with a dull pocket knife, a stolen keycard, and she’s inside. She drags the body in, too, leaving no trace of her crime behind.

Her fingers rummage through differently labeled flasks. There’s plenty of blue and yellow, but not the poisonous green she’s looking for.

“C’mon, c’mon, c’mon…” she mutters to herself as she desperately searches every drawer, every goddamn cabinet of the laboratory.

Out of breath, she stops and grips her temples, shoulders slumping as her mind spins. She wants to curse and scream, but that would draw too much attention. She knows she’s running out of time. No one takes that long to fucking pee. Decisions have to be made quickly.

She grabs a blue vial.

Rolling down her sleeves, she walks nervously back into the control room. Neither Mallory nor Edgar pays her any mind. Everyone’s eyes are glued to Soldier Boy and Homelander. Father and son. It’s biblical.

It’s as if she isn’t even there.

Her veins twitch, her blood boils. It’s tingling in her fingertips.

“Little help would be fucking appreciated!” Ben yells as he wrangles with a defunct Homelander.

Stan Edgar’s smile. So vicious. So cold. So calculating.

She knows the air in the room is about to shift. Her hands ball into fists by her side, gather their energy.

He gives his command. She screams.

“No! That wasn’t the fucking deal!”

Edgar doesn’t even look at her fully. A sideways glance is all she’s worth. “Take her out, too.”

Mallory sees it first, her eyes widening when she realizes what’s going on. It’s too late to warn anyone, however, her cries for help unheard as the acid rots her throat.

Edgar and two guards are next, metal weapons melt and mix with a puddle of human soup on the ground. Then, she goes after the one that got away.

The third guard hurries inside the prison cell, but Y/N slips through the crack of the door before it slams shut. The first gunshot goes clean through Homelander’s spine, but the second is deterred and only strikes Ben’s arm as the guard bubbles to a pond, a hot spring in the concrete.

Ben clutches his bleeding wound with a hiss before his green eyes lock with hers. They widen, and it takes him a moment to make sense of it all.

“Y/N, what–”

He takes a step forward. She takes a step back.

“Don’t come near me,” she orders him with panic blinking in her eyes like a flashing alarm. Her chest rises and falls with every anxious breath.

He holds his palms up high, surrendering. “It’s okay.”

Ben carefully walks around her and steps over the bubbling human puddle on the floor. He peeks outside the door, purses his lips, and nods in impressed satisfaction.

“Those little blobs outside–”

Y/N bobs her head at his unfinished question. “Mallory and Edgar plus two guards,” she replies.

“Nice job.” He whistles lowly and shoots her a devilish grin, taking a step closer. “Gotta say, I’ve never been more turned on by you. I’m getting fucking hard.”

“Ben!” Y/N scolds and backs away from him until she’s pressed against the wall. “I told you, don’t touch me,” she warns him again.

Ben’s smile fades as he recognizes her fear. His features soften, the jokes disappear. “Hey, it’s alright. Twenty-four hours and you’ll be fine again. Just gotta get through it.”

Y/N shakes her head, tears welling in her eyes. Ben’s brow knits in confusion, his face stern.

“What-… Why are you shaking your head?”

A tear escapes and streaks her cheek. “It won’t go away in twenty-four hours,” she chokes out. “They were out of Temp V.”

Ben’s face drops at the realization. “No, no, no… Tell me you didn’t fucking do this!” he yells.

“They were going to kill you! What was I supposed to do?” Y/N explains tearfully.

“Die, Y/N! You were supposed to let me fucking die!” Ben’s jaw tightens as anger surges through his body.

“I didn’t let you die the first time! What made you think I would let you fucking die right now, huh?” Y/N cries through gritted teeth, her hands balling into fists. “Stop trying to kill yourself. You fucking promised me!”

Licking his lips, Ben swallows. He’s quiet, running a palm over his face while his mind races a mile a minute. “Okay… alright,” he says finally, his voice significantly calmer now. “Where did you get the Compound V from?”

“There’s a lab here,” she replies in the same calm manner.

“They got more?”

“Yes.”

“Good.” Ben nods and finds her eyes. “Show me.”

Y/N presses her lips into a thin line, shaking her head once more. “No.”

His anger returns, nostrils flaring as his brow creases. “What d’you mean no?”

She swallows thickly. “Look, if you really wanna do this, then I won’t stop you,” she says, a pleading glimmer haunting her eyes. “But you finally got a chance. You can live the normal, boring life. You can go on road trips, see Mount Rushmore… I know you want to.”

Ben swipes his tongue over his teeth and averts his gaze. He pinches the bridge of his freckled nose, and Y/N can see that she’s right.

“I’m not even sure if I want powers,” she continues after a pause. “But at least this time it was my choice. And I don’t regret it if it means I got to save you, okay?”

When Ben finally looks at her, it breaks her heart. “I don’t wanna be alone.”

Y/N gives him a sad smile. “I know… And you won’t be. I promise.”

Their attention is then temporarily drawn to a groan on the ground. Y/N’s brow furrows as she looks at Homelander’s body and notices his fingers twitching.

“Is he still alive?”

“Looks like it,” Ben replies. But as Y/N gets ready to take care of the problem, he stops her, holding out his flat palm. “Wait, wait, wait… Judging by the wound, he’s gonna be a fucking vegetable. It’s a waste of a kill.” He then grins mischievously at her. “I’ve got a better fucking idea. The other question is: how the fuck do we get outta this place… alive?”

Y/N’s mouth opens, but she doesn’t have an answer aside from a helpless shrug for him. This is as far as she has planned. Actually, she hasn’t planned any of this at all.

“I might be able to help with that,” a woman’s voice sounds behind her.

Y/N’s eyes widen as she recognizes the newcomer, her mouth parting anew in both surprise and shock. Ben, on the other hand, furrows his brow and glares at the stranger as if she had just spoken Russian.

“Who the fuck are you?” Ben prompts and then leans closer to Y/N, whispering in her ear, “Kill her.”

Y/N frowns, but her eyes are glued to the young woman in front of her, the familiarity sinking in. “I can’t,” she grits through her teeth.

“Why the fuck not?” Ben asks now loud enough for everyone to hear, including their guest.

“Because I’m the president,” the woman replies, smiling complacently. “And an old friend.”

Ben’s brow creases even more. “President of what? Cunt-town?”

“The United States, Ben,” Y/N tells him flatly. If she could kick his leg right now, she would. Leave it to her husband to get them both killed.

“Wait, a skirt is president?” Ben arches an eyebrow and mutters, “No wonder this country’s going to shit…”

“Charming,” Victoria Neuman says with a small sigh, but seemingly unbothered by the old-school views. Much like Y/N, she ignores the comment and doesn’t take offense to it. “I can see why you married him,” she adds wryly, looking at Y/N.

“Technically, she wasn’t elected. She was Vice President till President Singer died… accidentally,” Y/N explains, knowing Ben only reads the paper for the sports section and the comic strip. She swallows the thick lump in her throat, her heart thrashing wildly in her chest.

“Ah, I know what that’s code for.” Ben smirks coolly. “Bold move. I can fucking respect that.”

“Yeah, God knows some old fuck’s approval is what I’m looking for,” Neuman taunts, the sarcasm dripping from her red-painted lips.

Ben’s face drops as a bit of anger bubbles up inside of him. That bitch is lucky he’s V-free. He forces a tight-lipped smile. “I’m just saying I would’ve done the same thing, okay?”

“No offense, but you’re too much of a moron for that,” Neuman replies dryly.

Ben’s nostrils flare as he grits, “Offense fucking taken.”

“Okay!” Y/N tries to cut the tension with a nervous chuckle, pushing herself between Neuman and Ben. “How about you just tell us what we have to do to get out of this one?”

“See? She’s smart,” Neuman says and smirks at Ben. “I’ve always liked you, Y/N. You know, when Stan and Grace told me their plan of getting you two involved, I warned them. But they just wouldn’t listen. Everyone always underestimates the orphan. I should know, and so do you. Isn’t that right, Y/N?”

“Yeah, guess we’re MVP, after all, Nadia,” Y/N says and makes it a point to emphasize her real name.

Victoria just smiles in response. “So, since you took care of two problems for me, one in here and one out there, I have a proposal for you.”

“What is it?” Y/N knows she’s really out of choices. Either she agrees, or Ben and her will spend the afterlife together.

“I need a new Chief of Staff. I want you to do it. You’re smart, driven, and I know you wanna change shit around here. You wanna make a difference? This is your chance,” Neuman proposes. “You can’t take the cure again. It’s going to kill you. Trust me, we’ve done studies, and the results are not pretty.”

Y/N thinks for a few breaths. “What about Ben?”

“I guess he can live. It’s not like he’s a threat to anyone,” Neuman says and almost sounds bored. “Hell, for all I care, we can even make Soldier Boy a reformed hero for dealing with Homelander. He dies heroically in battle and quietly lives out his retirement in fucking Florida or some shit. We get him a big fucking statue. It’s good publicity.”

Y/N shares a look with Ben. “What d’you think?”

Thoughtfully, Ben clicks his tongue. He supposes it’s the best deal they can get, and declining it would probably get them nowhere, although he hates everything about it.

Swallowing, the former supe nods. “Alright, let’s fucking do this,” he agrees and states his conditions, “But for the record, I’m not moving to shit-ass Florida. I want a nice lake house in Minnesota.”

Victoria rolls her eyes. “Fine, whatever. Minnesota it is.”

“You okay? You ready?” Y/N checks as Ben has made it up the stone steps and halts in front of the big, red door.

“I don’t know. You really think this is a good idea? I’m not sure I can do this,” Ben says and insecurely eyes the entrance.

“You’ll do great, alright?” Y/N smiles encouragingly. “I believe in you.”

“I don’t wanna do this alone. What if I fuck up?” Ben asks.

Amused, Y/N chuckles. “Oh, you’re for sure gonna fuck up.”

The green-eyed man scowls. “That’s fucking reassuring. Thanks.”

“Look, this way you won’t be alone. I’ll wire you money every month and check in as much as I can, alright? You can always call me. This isn’t the end,” Y/N soothes his worries. “Maybe one day there’s a cure that’ll work, and we can be together again for real.”

She forces a weak smile to her lips, although she doesn’t believe her own words. But as long as Ben believes them, it’s enough.

“Okay.” Ben nods and takes a deep breath – in through his nose and out through his mouth. “I think I’m ready now.”

“Good.” Y/N sends him a smile. “You thought of a new name yet?”

“I’m still marinating on it,” Ben grumbles.

“Well, marinate faster. I have to introduce you.”

As they enter the orphanage, Y/N checks them in at the reception and fills out all necessary forms. Ben taps his foot nervously and scratches the back of his neck as they wait before one of Y/N’s former colleagues walks in with a little boy in hand, who’s no older than five.

Ben tries to smile but isn’t sure if it looks creepy, so he stops and opts for a more neutral expression. Y/N, however, immediately kneels down to the young boy and smiles brightly at him. It causes Ben’s heart to ache. She deserved to have all of this, but instead, she gave it all up for him.

“Hey, Benny,” she greets the boy. “You ready to meet your new adoptive parent?”

The boy scrunches his brow in careful suspicion as he eyes his future father-to-be. “I guess so,” he says. “Is that him? He looks like he drives a fucking minivan and offers candy to kids. Are you sure he’s not a pedo, Ms. Y/N?”

Ben purses his lips, biting the insides of his cheeks. The initial smile was definitely a mistake. They’re not off to a good start.

Y/N presses her lips together to muffle her snort. “Yes, Benny, I’m sure,” she replies patiently. “He’s cool, trust me.”

“Fine, whatever.” The kid rolls his eyes. “As long as he’s not fucking vegan like Ms. Teresa. They’re the worst.”

“Ugh, agreed! Do I look like a fucking plant-shitter to you?” Ben asks the boy rhetorically.

“No, you look like a fucking pedo to me,” the boy retorts.

Ben grins broadly at Y/N. “I like the kid. I think I get what you mean now. I see the resemblance.”

“Well, great. Glad you two are hitting it off… I think,” Y/N says with a crinkled brow, although a part of her is doubting her idea. Honestly, it’s wild she’s trusting him with a child. A year ago she would’ve thought that it was insane. “Alright, uh, Benny, this is, uhm–”

“Sam,” Ben proudly introduces himself with his fake name and shakes the kid’s hand. He then notices Y/N’s strange look. “What?”

“Nothing, just… you don’t really strike me as a Sam. That’s all,” she tells him in a whisper-tone, shrugging.

“Oh, really? Well, I don’t give a fuck. I love it,” Ben quips, grinning rather smugly.

“Fine.” Y/N sighs. She turns back to little Ben with a smile. “You guys ready to hit the road?”

“Where are we going?” Benny asks curiously and promptly takes Ben’s hand, dragging the older man through the doors. He’s been waiting to get out of the orphanage for a while, the excitement of finally being able to leave visible in every step he takes.

It’s a fresh start for both of them.

“Uh, Mount Rushmore,” Ben answers.

“Cool! Can we get burgers on the way there? I’m starving.”

“Sure can, kid.”

Y/N can see Ben’s initial hesitance until he eventually accepts it and eases into the situation, holding the boy’s hand tightly. He helps the kid into the car, even puts the seatbelt on, and shuts the door behind him.

Her heart twinges as she watches the two, wishing she could go with them if things were different. However, she knows the risk is too big. She would never forgive herself if she hurt either of them. She doesn’t trust herself enough yet. Maybe someday she can.

“You okay?” Ben asks as he sees the unshed tears brimming in her eyes. He’d dreaded this day for the past few weeks, hoping she’d still change her mind. He hates that this is goodbye, but he supposes he has to set her free now.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” Y/N says with a forced smile, but a tear escapes and rolls down her cheek.

“C’mere.”

Y/N protests as Ben slings his arms around her and pulls her flush against him, holding her tightly. He hasn’t touched her since that night, but he doesn’t care anymore. He presses his lips against hers and tastes her one last time.

Breathlessly, Y/N withdraws and sniffles. “Are you fucking insane? I could kill you.”

Ben simply smiles at her. “Hey, if I die kissing you, then that’s a fucking great way to go out. ‘Sides, insanity is contagious,” he quips and sends her a wink. “Thank you… for everything, you know?”

“You’re welcome,” she says quietly and swallows harshly as the tears fall freely now. Not every film has a happy ending. “I guess I’ve done my job as your sponsor. You’ve been successfully rehabilitated.”

Ben snorts. “If by that you mean I’m fucking boring and responsible now then yeah, you’ve done your job.”

“You won’t be bored for long. The kid’s already trying to hotwire the car,” Y/N tells him, laughing.

“Wha–” Ben spins around and points a warning finger at the boy. “Ay! Hands in your fucking lap!”

The kid raises his palms in surrender and yells, “Hurry the fuck up!”

With a shaking head, Ben turns back to her. “Gotta watch that kid like an eagle,” he mutters. He exhales a dreaded breath and licks his lips. “So, I guess this is goodbye, huh?”

Y/N smiles softly, the corners of her mouth reaching her dimples. “Maybe.”

Little Ben gets me every time 😂 Alright, now you may yell and complain, but I love this bittersweet ending 🥲 (But of course, you're welcome to send in requests. Whether it's deleted scenes, bonus shots of a potential future, or some fun Big Ben/Little Ben drabbles)

Thank you so much for reading, for your gifs and comments! It's so appreciated! Without them, this would only be half the fun 🤍

I'll announce future plans soon. The final five of Plastic Hearts will probably be next up. Get ready 'cause it's another wild one! 🌟

Everything Jensen: @alwaystiredandconfused @xlynnbbyx @lyarr24 @deans-spinster-witch @blackcherrywhiskey @deansbbyx @foxyjwls007 @ladysparkles78 @roseblue373 @zepskies @agalliasi @yvonneeeee @hobby27 @imsapphine @globetrotter28

Series Tags: @nancymcl @fics-pics-andotherthings-i-like @sparkydonugh

#rehab #soldier boy #the boys #soldier boy x reader #soldier boy x female reader #soldier boy x you #soldier boy x y/n #soldier boy reader insert #the boys reader insert #the boys x reader #the boys amazon #the boys season 3 #the boys fanfic #soldier boy fanfic

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waywardcrow · 5 months

Text

Koala hugs.

Pairing: Biker!Bucky x Librarian!Reader.

Part of the Sweeter than fiction series.

(This is the first post about it so don’t think you miss something, I got inspiration and here we are)

Summary: After a long day, the only thing she needed is to be in the arms of Bucky.

TW: Stress and a little bit of anger but nothing too explicit, an homophobic asshole (just mentioned), books being mistreated (idk, it gave me anxiety), fluff, Bucky as a human pillow, mention of past insecurities, a petty girl, established relationship, as always: English is not my first language so please let me know if I make a mistake.

Picture from pinterest and graphic by the amazing @ firefly-graphics so all credits to the creators.

The bag hit the floor as soon as she walked in her house, too tired to cared about it this time or about the shoes she left in the middle of the hall the girl made her way to her destiny.

She had one goal in mind, there was one thing that helped her to don’t yell at the little shits who decided to throw books for fun at the back of the library, the thing that made her don’t smack the Karen who went to her desk to complain about the queer books they had in the shelves, the librarian’s head ached from faking a smile while telling that asshole she could file a complain in the city hall if she wanted to. That was her job, not to start a fight before the fairytales reading she had scheduled for that afternoon could begin.

And to make her day more shitty, she found Dolores in the store before going home, the redhead didn’t miss the chance to try to make her react remembering out loud her “time” with Bucky in the cashier’s line before Bobby told her to behave or his wife will kick her out of their business. Dolores will had haunt her forever with her past with Bucky but that was before, Bucky and her didn’t went through hell fighting their ghosts to let that bitch win.

That knowledge didn’t cured her bad mood, her remedy was sleeping in the couch hugging one of her pillows agains his muscular chest. Bucky wasn’t one to take naps in the late afternoon but the last days babysitting Sam and Rose’s kid left him exhausted.

Peach smiled at the sight of him, it was impossible not to, a 6’4 tattooed biker beefy Bucky Barnes cuddling a pink puffy pillow with such a peaceful expression in his handsome face was just so beautiful.

The girl took out her coat and left her in the floor with the grocery bag, not caring about anything else but her boyfriend, Peach pulled Bucky’s pillow from his arms to leave them ready for her.

The once calm expression on her boyfriend changed to a sleepy and cute one when he saw her.

“Hey Peach” his voice raspy and deeper than usual made her pout “what’s the matter?” Bucky started to get up but with one hand she stopped him.

“I want koala hugs”

His eyebrows relaxed before taking her by the hand and pulling her against him, barely awake but loving how far his girlfriend came through, she was still doubtful sometimes but it was getting easier for her to voice her needs.

“Love you so much sweets” he whispered in her skin when she wrapped her thighs around his waist and her arms found their way around his neck, that was their favorite place.

“Love you too Bucky” she sighed, feeling all her stress melt away in his scent, breathing him in as she closed her eyes, letting sleep take them both away.

#bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes x f!reader #biker!bucky x reader

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somnambulic-thing · 5 months

Text

This fic is part III of my come as you are universe but can be read as a standalone.

Series Masterlist

always hungry

Eddie Munson x gn!reader with vagina&boobs, we're early/mid 20s, 18+

Words: 2.6k

Summary: After a rough week, Eddie takes care of you. The Munson way.

|established relationship, mental health themes/burnout adjacent, fluff & comfort, song fic, only mentions of food (don't take the title literally), Eddie takes care of Reader|

Essential Soundtrack for this one: Lullaby by The Cure

A/N: I wrote most of this highly self-indulgent story back in October when I was in a similar state as depicted here. Then I kinda forgot about it, then some writers block hit and... you know how it goes. It's silly and tender and I hope somebody can find a little joy or comfort between the lines.

As always, comments and reblogs are very, very welcome.

It’s late October Friday and you’re in bed before even the sleepy sun can put on its dawn blue pyjamas. With your cheek smushed against the mattress for the past hour, the wrinkles in the sheet are bound to leave intricate imprints on your skin. Outside your window, grimy with summer dust and pollen, the stripping trees sway in the wind with a calm like they don’t know that today has been shit - totally, utterly shit at that - and you don’t hold it against them. They try to soothe you with their dance and that’s really the peak of what they can do for you - rooted in your bed - while being rooted in the earth themselves.

The whole week had slowly slowly slowly drained the joy out of you.

It had started Monday, subtle still, but by evening you had felt a little blue. Tuesday had been grey - all work and no play - and Wednesday too… and you refuse to think about Thursday at all, had declared it a taboo.

Friday, the dullest of them all, had finally sucked you dry and you had just enough left to drag yourself to bed and wait for someone to come along and lick your wounds for you.

And it takes only a decade’s worth of longing for the one who knows how to put you back together until the front door opens with a soft squeak that you had been meaning to remedy since the day you moved in but by now were too fond of to do so. It fades nicely into the melody he’s humming and so does the rustling of fabric as he sheds the outer layers off his shoulders and so is the thudding of his boots against the floor as he kicks them off, one stray thudd letting you know that one boot hit the wall on.

The sounds of his arrival - so unmistakably Eddie - stir something inside the hollow pit of your stomach and you take a breath to give him directions to find you but he beats your tired vocal cords to it. A fluffy head pokes through the door, a goofy smile turns into an observant frown and then a soft gentle voice pokes you with questions as he moves to kneel beside the bed—

What do you need?

You wanna go out? Meet some friends?

Wanna curl up and watch a movie?

We could find something for you to break?

—until he takes pity on you in the face of your fatigued state and declares the burden of decision-making be taken off your shoulders for as long as you need to.

“Thanks, Ed,” you mumble with your eyes closed, sucking up the feeling his nails leave on your scalp.

“Mhh, how abouuut,” he puts a quick, warm kiss to your forehead, “I order us some pizza that we’ll eat in bed while I provide you with more first class headscratches—“

“At the same time?“

“Oh, the never-ending perks of a highly ambidextrous boyfiend— and we see how you feel when you’re fed and purring and take it from there? That sound doable?”

You nod. “I can do that.”

“Alright,” he says softly and combs his fingers through your hair. You hear a smile in his inflection that carries some mirth and you open your eyes to find him grin. It’s a beautiful thing to behold, a little sharp around the edges like a promise of mischief and laugther. You need to know what’s going on behind it.

“What’s that face?”

The grin widens. He’s glad you asked. “I would feed you like a baby bird if I had to.”

“Edward,” you huff and feel the corner of your mouth twitch against the mattress.

Eddie’s grin falls, replaced by a seriousness that doesn’t spare on the theatrics. If you didn’t know him, you would probably believe it. “I just want you to know,” he puts a hand to your cheek, your blood rushing there to meet his touch, “that I am ready to go to great lengths to pull you out of that hole, sweetheart. Ain’t no mountain high enough…”

A soft snort escapes you and he ducks his head, dialing it down for a moment but not giving up yet. “That’s all?” he asks drily. “Me digging into regurgitation humour and Motown classics and all I get is a snort?”

“It’s dire,” you say, a few stray tears blurring your view for three, four blinks of your eyes.

“Hey, hey, hey.” The mattress dips, then gentle hands pluck your face off the sheet and after the world spins and rocks a little on its axes, your cheek is smushed against his chest. Long arms embrace you, wrapping you in more warmth than any blanket ever could and he smells like home - tea tree and smoke and Eddie - and you almost break your nose on his sternum with the urge to replace all the air in your lungs with his scent.

“How the fuck is it that I only hear about you feeling off when it’s already dire?”

You mumble incoherent things into the safety of his chest and feel blessed that he doesn’t mind a little snot on his shirt.

“Can’t hear with my tits, precious.”

“I don’t know, I just dragged on and on and then…” you shrug. “But it’s not really that bad—“

“You trying to tell me there’s no snot on my shirt right now?”

A laugh. How he does it, coaxing those out of you, past the sobs taking up all the space in your restricted throat, you don’t know. You just know that right now inside those arms, things really don’t feel that bad anymore.

You’ve been silent for a while and Eddie is still unaware of this realisation. “Need me to shut up today?”

“No, oh god nod. I need you to be you,” you say in a nasal tone Eddie has the grace to ignore and push yourself up to meet his eyes. Two pitch-black searchlights on a mission to scout your face for traces of you holding back for stupid reasons.

“Elaborate?” he says, seemingly satisfied with his investigation, for a smile makes its way back to his features. A little smug thing. ”You know I contain multitudes.”

“Oh yeah,” you marvel, no teasing in your voice. “And many of those.”

“Exactly.” He taps the tip of your nose, before running the same finger down your cheek. “So, what do you need?

“Joy.”

“Joy?”

“Joy… fun… delight, pleasure, excitement!” With each word, your throat squeezes shut again. The longing - the need - too big for this small opening to not knock over something brittle.

The tears are back. Eddie doesn’t wipe or kiss them away, knowing they are a sign of the vicious pressure leaving your body. He nods and smiles with the tip of his tongue stuck between his front teeth and it hits you then, the relief, hard as a load of bricks—

“I got you,” he speaks your thoughts into existence.

“Eddie? What are you doing?” The phone call to order unreasonable amounts of pizza had ended ages ago and the spot next to you was still occupied by his absence. It got more and more heavy with each passing minute. You swear you slowly felt the mattress dip from its weight, threatening to topple over the bed, so it was better to get out and—

“Stay where you are!” Eddie calls from the other room and you’re once again startled by his sharp ears. Your feet hadn’t even touched the ground outside the bed.

“Bat,” you mumble and frown, shuffling back into bed again. The sheets were itchy now, coated with curiosity. You flop down to your back and stare at the ceiling. It’s dawning now and the white of the ceiling has turned into a dark, murky blue. You are just another inhale away from calling out for him again when you hear a rhythmic tap that is unmistakably fingertips on acoustic guitar.

A faint. ‘One, two, three, four.’

And then familiar notes float through the doorframe, breaching the darkness and sink right into your chest. You sit up. Your heart starts to flutter, outrunning the slow ethereal melody plucked by calloused fingers and it costs all of your will to not follow the enchanting sound into the dark where Eddie coaxes something magical out of the instrument.

You brace yourself for his voice to weave into the song when his shape emerges out of the darkness of the hallway. There suddenly is no space in this world big enough for the size of your heart.

‘On candy-striped legs, the spiderman comes…’

The fabric clings to his legs like a second skin. It doesn’t matter that the red-white-red-white pattern is opaque, the soft light of the bedside lamp works out the lean muscle like a chisel. His chest is bare, his eyes black holes surrounded by the traces of laughter chiseled by time.

‘Softly through the shadow of the evening sun…’

He keeps his eyes on you as he sneaks on tiptoes around the bed, only averting his gaze to step over your work clothes you’d left in a heap on the floor.

‘Stealing past the windows of the blissfully dead Looking for the victim shivering in bed’

There’s no room to steal past your window and so he stops in front of it. Like an apparition, something from a dream; his pale skin almost glowing, mocking the vanishing sun behind him.

‘Searching out fear in the gathering gloom and Suddenly a movement in the corner of the room And there is nothing I can do When I realize with delight’

His eyes widen; wild, seductive. You shiver a few lines too late but so forcefully, your back arches against the headboard. He sings the next line like a threat lined with a promise.

‘That the spiderman is having you for dinner tonight’

A noise escapes your lips; half laughter half moan and across the room, spiderman follows suit with the words leaving his smirking lips.

‘Quietly he laughs and shaking his head Creeps closer now Closer to the foot of the bed And softer than shadow and quicker than flies…’

It’s not quite a jump, but a fluent, swift motion as he climbs into bed with you. A few steps, carefully, slowly like on a tightrope except he’s planting his striped feet on each side of you, widening his stance the further he goes. You lean back as far as you can, slouched almost painfully against the headboard but it’s just a faint sensation, drowned out by the man towering above you in his battle stance; the one he takes on stage when he becomes a wild thing that won’t be tamed. It makes no difference that there’s no electricity raging under his fingers, doesn’t matter that there is no distortion, or that he’s clad in nothing but a pair of skin-tight red and white tights; Eddie is raw and real and here and he’s giving himself to you.

‘His arms are all around me and his tongue in my eyes Be still be calm be quiet now my precious ghoul…’

He starts to descend, lowering himself to his knees, leaving you time to fully lie down—

‘Don't struggle like that or I will only love you more…’

— matching your grin as he straddles your thighs and loads his voice with something tenderly vicious that makes your skin crawl with an anthill’s worth of emotions.

For it's much too late to get away or turn on the light The spiderman is having you for dinner tonight…‘

The melody stops, the guitar is placed on the sheets and Eddie slows the words down, a dragging rhythm like someone who’s trying to remember a poem from their childhood.

‘And I feel like I'm being eaten…’

His fingers crawl over your belly up to your chest as he leans down and sings into the skin of your neck while your hands roam every inch of him they can reach.

‘By a thousand million shivering furry hooooles’

A pause. Mingled giggles and Eddie’s warm breath on your neck turning into a moan as you rake your nails over the length of his candy-striped thighs. He places a kiss on the soft spot beyond your ear and sits back up, cheeks flushed and smile mirthful.

“Excuse me,” he clears his throat and grabs the guitar by the neck, “I have a show to finish.” He simply picks back up where he’d stopped.

‘And I know that in the morning I will wake up In the shivering cold

And the spiderman is always… hungry’

And then he just sits there above you, features soft and warm in the dim light. His fingers move over the strings like melancholic creatures and he prolongs the outro, keeping the song alive until the silent tears spilling down your face have dried up again.

This time, he kisses the remnants away.

“Hmm… happy tears,” he hums and runs the tip of his nose along the bridge of yours. “Delicious.”

You laugh softly, no longer feeling hollow and numb, even if completely exhausted.

“Thank you… that’s exactly what I needed…”

“Always my pleasure to cater to your very specific tastes,” he chuckles and kisses you, slow and soft with a hint of tongue. “How are you feeling?”

“Way less awful…”

“I take that for now.” You run your hands over his cheeks and up, brushing his hair off his forehead just for it to fall in place again right away, only more tousled. “M’ going to pamper and spoil you this weekend like nobody has ever been spoiled and pampered before.”

Your throat fills with something hot and itchy and new tears well up in the corners of your eyes. Eddie provides you with more tender kisses and quiet declarations of love and devotion.

‘You’re not too much, never.’

‘It’s no burden to care for you, sweetheart.’

‘Hate to see you so exhausted. Just let me help.’

His weight and warmth calm your mind, his chest the perfect space to hide and rest. Your hands wander down his back, fingers crossing the valley of his spine and all the way down to an elastic waistband and you remember.

“Where the hell did you conjure up those?”

Lifting himself up, he leans back, hooks a thumb under the hem and lets it snap back. “You like it?”

“Love it,” you breathe out, sliding your thumb between the soft fabric and the soft hair on his lower belly. You would be devouring him by now if you weren’t so tired.

“I acquired those with the intent to, uh, seduce you and engage in some magnificent fuckery, but, you know, I figured…” he shrugs, takes your hand and presses a kiss to your knuckles. “It’s not like they are single-use item.”

A laugh bubbles up in your chest and pride spreads on Eddie’s face.

“So are you stashing more fancy garments at my place without my knowledge?”

He sharply draws in air through his teeth, conspiratorial grin inclusive. “I’m afraid I can’t disclose that information.”

“Alright,” you say, hand placed over your heart. “I promise I won’t go looking on purpose.”

He tilts his head and leans back down. “That’s my good little ghoul.” This kiss feels more urgent and you weave your hand into the hair on the back of his neck and—

The doorbell rings.

“Shit,” he spits. “Forgot we ordered food.”

Eddie places a kiss on your forehead and hurries out the bed. Right before he leaves the room he stops and looks down on himself. He turns around, grabs a shirt from his drawer and puts it on, then looks down on himself once more. He shrugs and leaves the room.

You already miss him.

#eddie munson fluff #Eddie Munson x reader #Eddie Munson x you #Eddie Munson x afab!reader #my fic

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baldurs-simp · 6 months

Text

Un-Holy (Astarion x Aasimar!Reader)

Summary: Your heritage comes out in the midst of a battle, leaving you to confess your past to Astarion, whom you have developed a strong relationship with.

Warnings: strong language, mild spoilers, aasimar!reader, fluff, written at the spur of the moment while slightly tired, a bunch of rambling in the beginning but shit goes down later on

MY MASTERLIST

You have gone years without a fight until you woke up on the Mind Flayer ship with a tadpole behind your eye. Now, you cannot go a day without fighting for your survival after the ship crashed somewhere near Baldur’s Gate. You are not alone in the fight, however, having met some companions along the way who all share the same affliction you do; the threat of becoming a Mind Flayer.

The first you met was a Gith, Lae’zel, on the ship before it fell, then a Cleric of Shar, Shadowheart. The two don’t see eye to eye, but they keep the peace well enough to not cause a fight within the camp at night. Then you meet the rogue, Astarion, whom you later find out is a vampire after he tried to drink your blood in your sleep. How he’s able to walk in the sun without burning to a crisp is a mystery to everyone, but you think you could be because of the tadpole lurking around in his head. Or perhaps it is the work of the Guardian that visits you in your dreams.

Then you met the wizard from Waterdeep stuck in his portal, Gale. He has his issues. An orb sits in his chest, waiting to explode if it is not sated with magical-infused objects. You normally allow him to consume items that would otherwise be of no use to you. Items that grant you spells that you can already cast. Items useless to you, but not to Gale.

Wyll you had met after defeating a group of goblins that tried to enter the Emerald grove. Meeting him spurred your quest to help the Tieflings being kicked out by the druids. You plan on clearing the way for them, getting rid of goblins that might attack them west of the Blighted Village. Wyll had his quest to hunt down a devil, whom you found, Karlach.

Karlach is nothing like what Wyll had described and they finally came to a consensus to not kill each other. The tiefling that fought in the Blood Wars was only enlisted against her will. And she now joins your party in search of a cure for the Mind Flayer tadpoles.

You feel as if you know everyone in your party, and know somewhat about their past from what they shared with you after bunking down for nights while on the road. Yet, they don’t know a thing about your past. They don’t know who you truly are, or what you really are. But sometimes you think it’s for the better.

Battling the Hobgoblin leader, Dror Ragzlin proves to be a difficult fight. With the majority of your companions looking rough and the fight still raging on, you can’t help the necrotic energy bubbling up inside of you. You have to let it out.

Planting your feet firmly into the ground beneath you, you let out a fierce cry as ghostly skeletal wings sprout out from your back. A necrotic shroud falls over you, turning foes close to you around in fear. Your eyes turn into black pools as your gaze falls on Ragzlin, letting him know that he is your target.

The fight is quickly won after that and you drop your celestial facade, helping up Gale and healing him of his wounds. “Well, I didn’t know we had an Aasimar in our party,” Shadowheart mentions, causing you to turn your head towards her and see that everyone else stands behind her, staring at you in awe and curiosity.

“Let’s just find Halsin and get out of here,” you quickly say, walking past them without so much as making eye contact with them.

“Woah, woah, we’re not gonna talk about how fucking cool that was?” Karlach mentions as the party follows you, stepping over goblin corpses as you briskly walk toward the exit.

“There’s nothing to talk about so let’s not mention it. This is just something I can do just as you can go into a rage,” you say over your shoulder, pushing the heavy oak door open, shoving the piercing gazes you feel on your back from your companions. You sigh, knowing that they will pester you if you don’t tell them what they want to hear. “Look, it's a long story, okay. I come from a celestial background. It’s no different than Lae’zel coming from a Githyanki background. We all come from somewhere and none of us has pestered anyone about it, so why should it be different with me?” you question, turning around to face them. So, can we please leave it at that, find the druid, and get out of this place?”

From the tone of your voice, they can tell that your heritage is a sensitive topic. And they know you’re right. Everyone has their past and they are free to disclose as much as they want. It prevents tension from rising in camp. So, they suck it up, leaving your story to their imagination. Until you’re comfortable telling them.

Astarion, on the other hand, is not one to let things go. He thinks that he deserves to hear your story after he told you what happened to him and how he became a vampire spawn. Not to mention that you and him have become somewhat close. After all, you do allow him to feed off of you at night when he needs to. That creates quite a bond if he must say so himself.

As night draws near, everyone tends to themself to rest after a long day of slaying foes in the desecrated temple of Selune. You keep to yourself, not wanting to be involved in conversation as you fear that someone will bring up what happened to you in the fight. It’s a conversation you don’t wish to have.

You sit by the edge of the lake, looking up at the stars, lost in thought and memory. You don’t even hear the footsteps approaching you from behind as you stare at the twinkling lights illuminating the sky.

“There you are,” Astarion’s voice calls, pulling you out of your thoughts and back down to earth as he sits beside you on the ground. “I had thought that perhaps you had flown off.”

It was meant to be a joke and you know that. But it does not make you laugh or smile. Instead, you sigh heavily and glance down at your feet. “If only. Unfortunately, my wings are incapable of flight,” you state, looking back up at the water lapping at the shore. “They never used to be, you know. Gods, I used to be so fast, flying between clouds like a blur. Now, I can remember what it’s like,” you say, smiling to yourself as you recall a memory of being in the sky.

Astarion has his eyes fixed on your face, taking in your smile, something that rarely comes across your face since he’s met you. “What happened?” he asks, tentatively and in a whisper.

“I fell in love with someone I wasn’t supposed to,” you say, shaking your head in shame. “I fell in love with a devil. He was charming and cunning and I was cast out from my people because of it only to find out that he was toying with me because he wanted to see me stripped of my radiant power. He wanted to see me fall,” you explain, turning to meet Astarion’s gaze finally. “There is no pride in being a Fallen. Only shame.”

He understands now. If anyone, he knows all about shame and it explains more than you know to him why you never told anyone what you are. He wants to reach out and touch you, lay a hand on your wrist as a way to tell you that you are not alone in this. But he doesn’t know if you will allow him to touch you. He knows that if the roles were switched and he told you in extensive detail what Cazador had done to him, he might not know what to do with a friendly touch.

“I wandered around on my own, living off the land, too ashamed to show my face to others, fearing that they would know what I had done and how far I had fallen from grace,” you say, looking back out to the lake. “I was on my own for so long, until I was taken by those Mind Flayers. It seems fitting now, being a Fallen Aasimar with a tadpole behind my eye.”

“You are not alone in this, you know,” he simply says, leaning slightly forward so that he can hold your gaze. “No matter how far you have fallen from grace, you are not alone, little angel.”

You chuckle at his words, your shoulders relaxing as you shift in your seated position. “I’m glad to have met you, Astarion. I only wish that we had met sooner,” you say, smiling sweetly at him as you cross your legs under you. “Perhaps things would have been better.”

Astarion laughs, throwing his head back slightly as he follows your gaze out to the water. “I do not think you would have liked me all that much. I would most likely have led you like a lamb to the slaughter for Cazador to feast on. And he would have reveled in the taste of your blood,” he says, a low growl in his voice at the mention of your blood.

You two had talked about what the others might taste like to him, talking - theoretically - how different people’s blood would taste like. You’re sure that yours must taste different than those he had bitten in battle for a bit of extra strength.

“And I would have tried to kill you if you did,” you tease him, looking at him, your eyes meeting his and you two stare into each other’s eyes.

“May I see them?” he asks, his eyes shifting to your back.

You know he means to see your wings, even in their dismal state. You feel comfortable showing them to him just as he had felt comfortable telling you that he is a vampire. Giving a small nod, you close your eyes to focus on conjuring your spectral wings, revealing their skeletal form with minimal feathers covering parts of them, some looking as though they are ready to fall off.

His mouth falls slightly open as he stares at them, shifting himself on the sand of the shore so that he can kneel behind you. You can almost feel his breath on your next as he shifts closer, his fingers reaching out to touch the exposed bone.

A breath catches in your throat, your head perking up as a shiver runs through your spine, making your wings slightly perk up. Your heart skips a beat, something you’re sure Astarion can hear, and you turn your head slightly over your shoulder to look at him.

You don’t have the heart to tell him that his actions are considered something intimate between your people. Taking another’s wings is something only lovers do. You’ve never had anyone touch them, even when they are in their original, glorious form.

You close your eyes at the sensation, taking in it because you are not sure when you will experience it again. When you feel Astarion moving away, you look at him again and smile. “Thank you. For letting me myself around you,” you whisper, standing up off the ground and dusting off the sand from your hands and legs.

“No. I think I should be the one thanking you for trusting me,” he speaks, standing up with you as he gazes at your features illuminated in the moonlight. Gods, he wishes he could see you in your full glory. He knows you’re still holding back what you could be. Still, he thinks it could be absolutely glorious to see you as the angel you truly are.

You bid him good night and walk to return to your tent. As you leave him, he casts his eyes to the ground to spot a black feather that has fallen from your wings. He bends down to pick it up, twirling it in his finger as she smiles to himself.

He’s going to keep this feather so he remembers this moment forever.

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sappy-seresin · 1 year

Text

Little Insomniac (J. Seresin) Vol. Two

Pairing: Jake Seresin x roommate!reader

Summary: The days following the night in which Jake intervened to help mend your struggles to sleep. Volume One

Warnings: nothing really, just fluff.

Word Count: 3.6k

MY WORK IS ORIGINAL AND IS NOT TO BE COPIED OR REPOSTED ELSEWHERE. Be kind and don't steal other people's writing, thank you.

Gif Creds: @jakeseresins

You wake up the following morning, smushed against Jake's chest. Your skin feels feverish against his, the sweltering body heat trapped inside the blankets is enough to make you feel slightly choked in the space on your bed. An exasperated yawn sounds from your chest as you attempt to twist in Jake's arms, which are securely locked around your frame. The sudden movement makes Jake stir awake with a husky groan, his arms tightening around you in the slightest before releasing.

"Good morning," he greets, running a hand over his face, tousling his sleep-ridden hair. Having been roommates with Jake for an extended period of time, you've witnessed him in many forms and seeing him first thing in the morning isn't new to you, but seeing Jake freshly awake in your bed with his arms still around you, voice thick with sleep? Man, he's a sight for sore eyes.

"Good morning," you return the pleasantry, pausing your attempts at unraveling your limbs from his. You forget why you even started moving in the first place, the second you catch the lighthearted expression he's wearing as he soaks you in. Several seconds of uninterrupted silence pass, both of you sharing an undefinable moment filled with awestruck glances and feathery touches.

Jake clears his throat, pulling himself back down so that he can't be labeled a creep for admiring how soft you look first thing in the morning with pillow lines on your cheek and doe-like eyes that twinkle in the sunlight. "Sleep okay?" There's a hopefulness in his voice, though you feel as though he should know the answer himself. You passed out long before him, and didn't consciously stir awake until about five minutes ago.

"Are you kidding," you yawn, propping your chin on his chest to keep from breaking eye contact. "I think that's the best sleep I've gotten all year." Bashful chuckles bubble from each of you at the exclamation you humorously uttered, though your words are sincere. Something about Jake's presence in your bed gave you the most fantastic, mind-fuzzing, sleep you've had in ages.

"Good," he hums, drawing your hair away from your face to secure it behind your ear, knowing you hate when it gets in your eyes. A rather accomplished, arrogant smirk crosses his face as your words fully register in his brain, his thoughts trailing back to how set you were on his clear inability to cure your insomnia the night before. "And you were so convinced I wouldn't be able to help." His tone is playful as his smirk shifts into a full shit-eating grin. "How's it feel to eat your words, sweetheart? Wanna give me that five star yelp review now?"

Your eyes involuntarily roll at his antics, your arms pushing your body from his chest so that you're looking down at him. "Don't get too ahead of yourself, Seresin. I'd barely slept in days, how do you know my body hadn't hit its breaking point on sleep deprivation? That could very well have been the cause for all the sleep I just got, so don't go assuming all of the credit for yourself." He can tell you're joking by the way your nose twitches in the slightest as you speak. Both of you know fully well that, while your body was teetering closer to its breaking point due to a lack of sleep, you would've been up for the better part of the night without Jake's, somewhat, forceful intervention.

"That's an odd way to say 'thank you' but I guess I'll take it," he drones, looking oddly comfortable still being wrapped in the blankets on your bed. Part of you assumed he would've been rushing to unravel himself from you the moment sleep welcomed you, but the fact that he didn't warms your heart as you continue soaking his presence in. He watches you, not minding the silence on your end as you hover over him. His fingers itch to rest on the curve of your jaw, but remain in their position fisting the soft covers. Though the atmosphere is soft, Jake doesn't want to push his luck by being overly affectionate with you. Sure, he's relentlessly flirted with you at times, but it's all been seemingly pointless banter to get under your skin. Unbeknownst to you, he'd love to freely express the peace that swirls in his chest when moments like these are shared, but the possibility of whatever would blossom by doing so crumbling and ruining your friendship keeps him from acting on those wants.

You smile at him, taking the silence as a cue to get your morning started, but Jake's hands find a home on your hips at the first sign of movement, planting you firmly in place. Your eyebrows raise in question, unsure of whether the vibe is to move or to stay in bed with him. This is an uncharted moment in your relationship with Jake and it's got you second guessing even the smallest decisions, that you wouldn't think twice about if it were anyone else tangled in your sheets.

"Let's stay here a little longer. I don't have anywhere to be," though it's a statement, his words portray themselves as more of a shy question. You swear there's a light pink hue to his cheeks as he locks his eyes on yours, seemingly searching for your reaction.

"Okay." You settle back into the covers the moment your agreement rolls from your lips. Your head finds the pillow as you get comfortable, laying on your side so you can face him. He mirrors your position, a content curve on his lips as he shuffles closer in the slightest. "What do you have on your agenda today, Lieutenant?"

He hums, scanning the ceiling as if he's running through his daily tasks in his head. "My day's clear, outside of meeting the squad at the Hard Deck tonight. You?"

"No plans," you hum, feeling grateful to finally have time off with it being the weekend. "Thought I'd see where an empty schedule takes me. There's a farmer's market across town that peaked my interest, but I'm not sure I'm going to go." The normalcy of talking about each others schedules makes you feel a bit shy. You can't help but imagine a different reality in which you and Jake are more than just platonic roommates, but a couple in love. A couple starting their morning off together, unaware of the outside world, with the dainty glow of the early sun casting a soft hue over both of their features. The images leave your brain scrambled with the thought of the man in front of you's attention being on you in a different way.

"You should go. Hell, I wouldn't mind going with if you're not sick of my company." You're surprised by the fact that he's even remotely interested in attending a farmers market with you on his day off, especially after having already spent the night huddled with you in bed so that you'd sleep. Your cheeks subtly heat up at his partial offer.

"You'd go to a farmers market with me? I mean, you wouldn't want to do anything more interesting with your day off?"

"Contrary to popular belief, jet fuel and adrenaline aren't constantly necessary to keep me functioning," he jokes, rolling back into his pillow, twinkling eyes locked on you. "I enjoy normal people things like farmers markets and people watching just as much as the next guy."

"I feel like that statement just taught me a lot more about you than I've learned in our time as roommates Seresin. Though, I gotta admit, I call bullshit on you not needing jet fuel and adrenaline to keep you sane. You without those things is a scary thought," you inform him, running a hand through your hair.

Jake rolls his eyes at your words, his humored laugh echoing off the walls in the room. "Like I said, they're not constantly needed, but that doesn't mean I don't need them at all." There are a few beats of silence as you settle back into your positions, both of you holding content expressions on your face due to the laid back aura in the room. Jake props himself on his elbows, twisting so that he's looking at you again. "So, what do you say, trip to the farmers market? If you feel so bad about dragging me along, you can come to the Hard Deck with me later to make up for it." He catches the way your eyebrows raise curiously at his words, but remains hopeful that you won't shoot him down.

"You want me to go to the Hard Deck with you? Normally Tash is the one to give me an invite," you'd meant to agree to his offer of plans, but your mouth had other ideas, solely focused on him being happy with spending the day with you. Granted, you've spent multiple days together one on one, but they've typically been more task driven days like grocery store trips or running errands. A day full of moments with Jake Seresin with no purpose outside of keeping each other company? That's a nice change of pace.

"Yes, I want you to come, if you want to, that is," he tells you. "Now, are we doing this, or are you going to keep second guessing everything I say?"

Your eyes involuntarily rolls at the lighthearted impatience in his voice. "I guess we're doing this." You're smiling at him as he moves, offering you a hand to help you up so that you can both get ready and start the day. You pause in your room as he retreats to his room, silently admiring how domestic the entire thing feels.

You spend the day with Jake as planned, admittedly enjoying his company outside of a group setting, and outside of your shared living quarters. Witnessing Jake get excited over various booths, marveling over handmade knick knacks and food truck items has your heart swimming with newfound attraction for him. You've always thought he was attractive, though the initial cockiness and arrogance demeanor dulled it in the begging, but seeing him let his guard down in an atmosphere that doesn't require flight suits or competition shines a new glow onto him. Butterflies swirl in your chest every time he laughs, the slight crinkle in his nose and twinkle in his eyes making you feel some type of way under the glowing sun.

Hours pass slowly at the market without the weight of responsibilities as you're both able to let loose and simply enjoy passing moments. You walk around till your feet ache, and by that point, it's time to head back to the house to get ready for a night out with your shared friends. Natasha texted you halfway through the day, requesting your presence at the bar. She was pleasantly surprised when you informed her that Jake had already asked you to come. Being the one that introduced you to Jake, she quickly caught on to the way the two of you seemingly lit up whenever the other is around. She caught the subtle undertone of attraction in your fruitless banter, and has secretly been making bets with Bob on how long it'd take for you and Jake to stop tip-toeing around your obvious feelings and dive into them head first. The fact that she hadn't been the one to invite you out first, feels like a step in that direction, to her anyway.

Everyone in the squad caught onto something different in the air the moment you and Jake walked in. The two of you were practically buzzing as you approached them with wide smiles, Jake's hand subconsciously resting on the small of your back. You sent Natasha a confused glance when she suggestively wiggled her eyebrows from her spot next to Bob, her eyes immediately trailing to an unaware Jake, who already moved to fill in for Javy at the pool table.

"What's the look for, Tash?" You ask when you're sure she's close enough to hear you. She wordlessly shrugs, unable to wipe the grin off her face at the appeared lovesick statues both you and Jake have been wearing since you walked in the door.

"Oh, nothing, nothing," she waves off, taking a sip of her drink with a humored glance at Bob, who's standing a few feet from you. "You're just, glowing a little different tonight is all."

The rest of the night at the bar consisted of the perfect amount of alcohol and effortless laughter. The drama-free time at the bar left you feeling light as Jake drove the two of you home at the end of the night, both of you recounting moments shared with the squad.

"I still can't believe that girl turned Javy down like that," you snort, clutching your abdomen to dull the ache from laughing so much. "I mean, she was the one that approached him!"

"Guy can't catch a break," Jake shakes his head, easily pulling his truck into a its designated spot by your place. Several more humored giggles erupt from you at the memory of the look on Javy's face when the girl physically ghosted him while everyone watched. Jake let himself out of the truck, strolling to the passenger side to help you out. He rolls his eyes at the way you continue spouting off more ridiculous recounts of the night, his own chuckles flowing into your ears as he waits for you to unlock the door.

"Home," you sigh, dropping your purse on the floor next to your already discarded shoes. You bask in the familiar scent o sandalwood, still surprisingly fresh after the candle had been blown out hours ago when the two of you left. Jake pauses to watch you, something about the way you visible relax makes his heart swell. He discards his keys onto their designated ring by the door, slipping off his own shoes when you spin towards him suddenly. "Hey, thanks for today. I, um, I really needed it."

He blinks at you in surprise, not anticipating any sort of thank you for simply spending time together. "Of course, darlin'. Thanks for letting me invade your space for the day, I enjoyed it too. I hope I proved that I don't need jet fuel to have a good time." You nod with an appreciative sigh, unable to stop yourself from yawning. A somewhat victoriously smirk curves onto the edge of Jake's lip as he straightens up, taking a few steps closer to where you're standing. He leans a little closer to help guide your jacket off. "Looks like I successfully tired you out enough to encourage your body to let you sleep tonight. Seems like I'm pretty good at this."

Your eyes roll at him, a lighthearted scoff sounding from you as you graciously watch him hang your jacket on the coatrack. "Don't let it get to your head, Seresin. You can't afford for that ego to get any bigger than it is now."

"Getting better at thanking me, I see," he winks, following you through the house toward where your bedrooms are, ready to change into comfortable clothes. You shake your head at him, each of you letting those words be the last that are spoken before disappearing in your rooms to get comfortable for the night.

You quickly swap your skinny jeans and top out for biker shorts and your favorite oversized t-shirt, swiping a makeup wipe across your skin. Once you're fully ready, you collapse onto the covers with a content noise, smiling at your ceiling as the day flashes through your mind again. Though you spent the entirety of the day with him, Jake's presence is missed now that you're back in your bed. The memory of his embrace from the night before ghosts itself across your skin, making you feel restless as you toss and turn in your sheets.

Your mind reels with every touch, every smile, and word Jake uttered to you over the last forty-eight hours. Each of them kicking you into overdrive, wishing things were different. Minutes pass slowly, seemingly looming over your head the longer you toss and turn in your bed.

With a frustrated groan, the covers are kicked away from your legs, falling from the floor as your feet subconsciously carry you across the hall to Jake's cracked door. There's a minuscule amount of light peeking through the small space, signaling that his lamp is on, which means that he's likely still awake himself. Pausing, you take a deep breath before tapping your knuckles on the wooden door, cringing at the gentle sound it emits.

"Hey," Jake calls, inviting you into his room. He wordlessly closes the journal in his hands when you come into view, wearing a curious expression when his eyes land on you. "Everything alright?"

Your cheeks heat up in embarrassment, suddenly feeling silly that you'd interrupted his routine again. You're not fully sure why you felt the need to come see him, but can't escape the fact that you're already here now. "Oh, uh, yeah, everything's fine. I was just wondering, uh-you know what, it's stupid. Goodnight." The words rush out of your mouth so fast that they string together, your feet twisting you towards the door as Jake calls after you.

"Y/n, wait," he calls, sitting up. You mentally curse yourself, turning back to face him with a sheepish look. His gaze is soft as he addresses you, making your shoulders relax in the slightest. "What is it darlin'?"

You blink, debating whether or not to admit that the real reason behind your presence in his room is because you don't want to sleep alone. Sucking in a sharp breath, you timidly admit, "I was just wondering if, maybe, I could crash in here with you? I know I'm probably a bed hog, and you're probably sick of me after being with me all day, but you know, I just thought I'd ask. Wouldn't hurt to test your insomnia healing theory again, would it?" The last statement makes him laugh, the sound only furthering the heat gathering in your cheeks. "But, that's stupid. I'm just gonna go-"

"There's plenty room in my bed for both of us," he cuts you off gently, patting the space next to him, which he'd already pulled back for you to climb in. You stare at him, still feeling mortified by the subtle admission that you don't want to sleep alone. "Plus, I'm still waiting on that yelp review. Wouldn't hurt to get a few more brownie points under my belt." You appreciate the way he takes it upon himself to make light of the situation rather than fully rubbing it in your face that you're the one requesting to sleep with him tonight. "Well, don't just stand there. My bed's getting cold."

"Always so bossy," you huff, sliding in his bed. The faint scent of his lingering cologne wafts into your nose, forming an involuntary smile on your lips. It's embarrassing how your body reacts to being so close to him, prior to his helping you sleep, it had been easy to ignore how he makes you feel. Now, it seems like there's an invisible magnetic field dragging you to him without question.

"Get comfortable sweetheart," he commands, switching the lamp off so that he can settle next to you. His arms slide around you, pulling you against him without warning, not that you're complaining. This is exactly what you'd come into his room for. He releases a content sigh once you're fully tucked against him, his eyelids immediately feeling heavy. After a few moments of quiet, Jake murmurs, "For the record, I wanted to ask if you wanted company tonight too."

Those two nights, wrapped up in each other underneath soft sheets, sparked an unspoken tradition of curling into each other when the sun went down. You always talk as you get comfortable, your hearts beating heavy in your chest as your eyes grow heavy. Letting the sound of each others even breathing, and being knotted around each others bodies, be what lulls you both to sleep. You rotate between sleeping in his bed, and him sleeping in yours, neither of you really asking as you're always seemingly on the same page as to who's making the others' room their resting place for the night.

Several weeks of sleeping in each others bed, led you to a night of hesitantly expressing your, more than platonic, feelings for one another. Jake's hands were cupping your face when he promised that he's hoped to be more than your roommate since the day the two of you signed your lease. Your cheeks hurt from smiling when you admitted to those feelings being mutual, at least after you'd realized that he wasn't as arrogant and egotistical as he'd first let off.

"Y/n, I'd be happy to spend every night with you in my arms," he breathes, his face growing closer to yours in the slightest, making your breath catch in your throat. "I'd be even happier if you were more than just my roommate. Am I crazy to think that we're meant to be more than that?"

Your eyes trail to his lips shamelessly before landing on his eyes again. Your voice in a hushed whisper, "I'd be a hypocrite if I told you that you're crazy for thinking that, because I think we're meant to be more too."

"That's all I need to know," he smiles, suddenly capturing your lips with his, letting them speak for the two of you as your roommate relationship blossoms into much more.

*****************

Never anticipated a second part when writing 'Little Insomniac' but then I realized that your and roommate Jake's storyline simply couldn't end so abruptly. I couldn't do that to myself. Though, I anticipated a snippet, and then wrote over 3,000 words soo there's that. Also, this little miniseries is comical to me because, I'm also an insomniac and just finished this at 5 am.

Now that this is under my belt, FAWN volume two will be finished and uploaded next. I hit a bit of an inspiration stunt, but I'm feeling like this helped sooo....FAWN TWO will actually be posted within the next few days to those of you looking forward to it!!

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