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roanniom · 9 months

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What Comes After

Steve Harrington x fem!reader

Summary: When Steve waits too long after you give birth to initiate sex, you take matters into your own hands.

Note: I know very very little about pregnancy and the aftermath. Most of this comes from what I read in other fics, what I’ve vaguely heard from my friends, and a 5 min google search about lactation. Sorry in advance if this is incorrect.

Warnings: NSFW, 18+ ONLY, angst that resolves, mentions of pregnancy / babies / parenthood, PIV/unprotected sex, lactation during sex

After you give birth to your baby, you completely assumed Steve would be itching to ravish you the minute your doctor gave the all clear. In fact, you’d been mentally preparing yourself for that since before you went into labor. Those first few weeks afterwards were as rough as people had warned you and then some, but you couldn’t imagine it without your Steve.

Steve who was there beside you for absolutely everything. Late night feedings, mid day crying sessions, general panic attacks about how to do anything right for the first time, really. You’d wake up to hear him in the next room, holding and rocking your daughter back to sleep, his hushed voice soothing her whimpers and in turn lulling you back to rest.

It’s not that you thought the man capable of being such a loving, gentle partner in this new stage of life would turn into some ravenous monster at the first suggestion of sex. It’s just that he’d always been such an attentive, eager, enthusiastic lover, and that had only magnified as your pregnancy had gone on. Your hormones had made you insatiable, especially toward the end. Steve had very much gotten used to you needing to use him like a toy often - sometimes multiple times a day. So it just stands to reason that he would be absolutely itching to get back to it.

But the day of your follow up doctor's appointment came and went and...nothing. You'd come home and let him know the good news, a way smile on your face as you braced for his celebration. Steve had just looked at you over the baby's head where he had her cradled to his chest and smiled.

"Glad to hear you're healing up right, sweetheart!"

And that was that.

You'd assumed maybe he was holding himself back for your daughter's sake. So that night you'd climbed into bed wearing something slightly nicer than the long flowy nightgowns you'd taken to sporting the last few months. You applied a bit of perfume at your pulse points and rubbed a little lotion on your legs. Steve walked in shortly after running a final sweep of the apartment, making sure everything is off and locked up (he's fallen perfectly into the protective father stereotype), and when he crossed the threshold you beamed at him.

"Look at you. All smiley and beautiful and cozy," Steve cooed, sliding into bed beside you. His arms encircled you and pulled you against his body and again, you felt yourself steeling your nerves, ready for the inevitable escalation. So much so that you leaned up to initiate yourself, pressing your lips against your husband's throat. Steve hummed against your ministrations before doing the last thing you thought he'd do - he kissed the top of your head and turned you in his arms, nestling you into a warm, firm grip.

"Good night, baby. Love you," he whispered in your ear.

And that was that.

You'd been pretty surprised by the lack of action. A little rattled actually. But as Steve's breathing evened out and his arms around you became heavier with sleep, you'd reminded yourself that you hadn't really felt ready anyway. Your feelings of rejection assuaged, you'd allowed sleep to take you with him.

However, as the weeks wore on, you were less and less able to ignore the nagging feeling.

With each passing day that your husband didn't initiate sex, you began worrying more and more that he didn't want you anymore. Your postpartum hormones had you feeling wildly unfounded emotions, and you had to keep reminding yourself that they were unfounded because the evidence of Steve's actions didn't line up with your suspicions.

Steve was nothing but physical with you in the aftermath of the birth of your daughter. Constantly coming up behind you and wrapping you in his arms. Constantly showering your face and neck with kisses when he entered any room. Pulling you down to sit in his lap when you finally put the baby down for a nap or for the night. His hands were on you at all times.

Not to mention the fact that you had woken up multiple times in the middle of the night (needing to pee) to the feeling of his hard cock nestled against your curves, his arms pulling you that much tighter against him when you tried to get up.

All of these mixed messaged led to you feeling extremely confused. So much so that you did the first thing you could think of besides confronting the issue head on (because of course you weren't going to ask Steve directly, that would be too mature).

"Why hasn't he...what?!" Eddie's eyes practically bulge out of his head in response to your question. You narrow your eyes at him in contrast.

Steve has run out to get some Chinese food since "Uncle Eddie" has come over for a movie night. The different members of the gang have been coming over each weekend to help you two out and also give you a much needed dose of friendship normalcy. Eddie is sitting on your couch, your daughter in his arms, as you sit beside him with your arms crossed.

"Why hasn't he fucked me since I gave birth?" you repeat expectantly. Eddie does his best to cover the baby's ears.

"There is literally a child - your child - present, you slut," Eddie accuses in a stage whisper. You laugh out loud at that.

"First of all, she can't understand a single word that's being said. And second of all, you can't call me a slut in front of my child." You move to smack him but Eddie ducks, giving you a cheeky smile.

Eddie might be really close with Steve, but you'd very much stolen him as a best friend in your own right. As it stands, Steve has Robin and you have Eddie, that's pretty much the loyalty line. So you attempt to lean on that loyalty to solve your problem.

"C'mon, Eds," you pout. "I'm really dying here."

Eddie's eyes go wide again and he puts his hand back over your sleeping daughter's exposed ear, pressing her other ear further against his chest.

"You're really missing dick that bad?" he whispers. You shrug.

"Not just dick. Steve's dick." It comes out in a whine that has Eddie chuckling. "I'm just worried he doesn't want -,"

"Well shut right the fuck up," Eddie cuts you off with an emphatic shake of his head. "It definitely isn't that he doesn't want you."

"Aha. So you do know more than you were letting on. Spill, Munson." You lean towards him and Eddie realizes he's gotten himself stuck in something he would rather have avoided. He scratches his head with his free hand.

"It's nothing. Really. It's..."

You stare daggers into him and his shoulders sag.

"He's really scared of hurting you."

You blink at that.

"Hurting me?"

Eddie looks extremely uncomfortable, shifting in his seat and looking down at the baby before looking back up at you.

"He read one of those baby books and it said that husbands can...you know...get amorous too soon and..."

You laugh incredulously, but Eddie looks like he wants to jump out of the second story window of your apartment.

"You're laughing, but he mentioned it to Robin and Robin said that it was 100% true and that he could...I don't know...rip you open or some shit-"

"Eddie!" you cut your friend off before he can make himself any more uncomfortable. "I mean, yes. It's true. But I've been cleared by the doctor. It's been like...months since that would have been something to worry about."

Eddie raises an eyebrow at that. The baby fusses quietly in his arms and he automatically bounces his knee to rock her just slightly, soothing her. Despite the nature of your conversation, the whole image melts your heart.

"Look, princess," Eddie says quietly, pulling out his long-used nickname for you. "Steve loves you pretty much more than any one human can possibly love someone. And you know I hate complimenting that asshole."

You snort in response but he continues.

"I'm sure it's killing him, too, to not be...intimate. Have you talked to him about it?"

"I told him that the doctor said it was okay..." you reply, kind of avoiding the question. Eddie groans, dropping his head against the back of the couch.

"This isn't one of those things where you come to me for help and I find out you haven't even tried doing anything to fix it first, is it?"

"Edward Munson, how could you ask me that?" you ask with faux insult. Eddie rolls his head to the side to look at you.

"I can ask you that because of the time you thought Steve wanted to just be friends with you and instead of talking to him you cried to me."

"That's - "

"And that time you thought he'd been sneaking around behind your back, even though all he was doing was planning his proposal."

"Okaaay, Eddie."

"And the time - ,"

"Alright shut up," you snap, not holding back your laughter. You bite your lip and look back at your friend holding your baby, the product of your love with Steve. You chew on the inside of your cheek. "Fine. Maybe I need to do something myself."

"Ya think?" Eddie asks with a grin that says he's way too pleased with himself.

"But you're going to help me."

Eddie's smile turns into an overdramatic frown.

"Why do I have to do anything? It's your sex life, slut."

"Because you love me," you say simply, batting your eyelashes. Eddie goes to respond but in that exact moment your daughter decides to wake up, stretching and giving the cutest tiny yawn in the entire world, melting the metal head in front of you. He glances up at you begrudgingly and then kisses the baby on her nose. Gazing down at her, he coos.

"Guess I'm gonna help your mommy get laid. Again."

~*~

It's about a week later by the time your plan can finally be put into action.

Steve comes home at the end of a long Friday at Family Video, ready to spend the night with his two girls. He runs in the door of your shared apartment and heads straight to the nursery so quickly he doesn't have enough time to register his surroundings. The dimmed lights, the lit candles, the soft music playing. When he reaches the nursery and finds the crib empty, however, Steve's blinders come off.

"Honey? Honey where are you?" Steve asks, calling out and walking back into the living room, unsettled.

That’s when you step out of your bedroom, leaning against the doorway in a silky robe.

“Right here, Stevie.”

Steve’s jaw drops open at the sight of you, all the air knocked from his lungs. He blinks rapidly. Seemingly unable to process what’s going on.

“Baby…?”

“She’s with Joyce and Hopper for the night,” you reply, though you know the pet name was for you and not a question about your daughter. Steve looks around the room as if taking the state of it in for the first time, but also as if he is slightly aimless without a baby to care for.

“That’s…wow. Is it too soon? It’ll be weird not putting her to bed,” Steve says, rubbing the back of his head sheepishly.

You know what he means. When Eddie had come to get her earlier this afternoon, you’d felt like your heart was being ripped from your body. But looking at your husband right now - feeling the chasm between you close as his eyes rake down your body - you know it was the right thing to do.

"We needed a night to be grown ups. Don't you think, Steve?" you ask, pushing off from the doorway. Your silk robe slips open, revealing a gauzy babydoll night dress that hits right at your upper thigh. You swear Steve turns a shade of red you've never seen in a matter of seconds. You can hear an audible swallow as you move into Steve's space, tugging at his Family Video vest till it falls off his shoulders and onto the floor. "You want that, too, don't you?"

You don't give him a second to respond. Instead you crawl your fingers up under his shirt, grasping at his sides to pull him to you as you big to kiss the side of his neck. The shuddering inhale is a good indication of the effect you're having on him, followed immediately by the way his arms encircle your body.

This is what you've wanted. What you've needed. What you've craved every night as you laid beside your doting, sweet, silly husband, desperate for a touch he hadn't necessarily deprived you of, but a touch which you needed more more more.

"Honey." He says it like a prayer. Like a question to be answered. You pull back from his skin long enough to look up and find his face a storm of emotion. Love and lust and worry swirl together, but before you can move to comfort or question him, his lips are on yours. Kissing you for all he's worth. For all you're worth. For all the two of you are worth combined.

The kissing never stopped. That wasn't something he'd been holding back from you these past few months. But clearly he'd been holding back in intensity, because there's something all-consuming about the way Steve is kissing you now. It has you gasping for air in the mere seconds of reprieve he gives you before he's back to devouring your mouth, his hands roaming all over the body he'd spent so long treating with kid gloves.

You're the one who begins walking backwards, leading him into the bedroom without pulling away from the kiss. It's easy to forget about the other plans you'd made for the evening. The bottle of wine on the counter, the meal on the table. You'd assumed you might have to wine and dine Steve. Get him a little loose and convince him to ravish you. You hadn't expected him to crumble like this or to become as nonverbal as he has since he walked in the door. Your usually talkative man has dissolved into nothing but pants and grunts as he tries his best to get his lips and hands on every part of you he can.

When the backs of your knees hit the bed and you pull him down on top of you, however, he does finally seem to come to his senses.

"We...oh fuck. We don't have to do anything, honey," Steve mutters, albeit into your lips.

"Wanna do everything, Stevie," you say in response, grabbing his hands and placing them back on your swollen breasts. Steve groans into your jaw this time but is more successful in his attempt to pull away.

"Sweetheart, we should slow down."

"No, we shouldn't," you say, a bit more indignant this time. Realizing that Steve is no longer putting any of his body weight on you, you panic and do the first thing that comes to mind - you yank him down and then twist so that his back is against the mattress so you can clamber on top of him.

"Honey, what are you - ?"

"Steve. I need you to fuck me. And if you’re worried you’re gonna hurt me, just forget about it because I’ve been healed for months at this point and you know it.”

You know your eyes must be shining with unshed tears at this point so you do your best to blink them away, hoping they aren’t visible to Steve in the low light. But of course he notices. It’s Steve.

He immediately sits up so he can be face to face as you straddle him, his large hands coming to cup your face like you’re so delicate you’ll break.

“I just…the books said…you were in so much pain after the birth…”

Steve looks way more lost than you’ve ever seen him, his hair tousled from your hands and his eyes darting everywhere in discomfort before resting back on yours. You wait for him to continue but he doesn’t so you squeeze his biceps.

“Steve. You have to tell me these things that you’re worried about.”

“I know…” he tries to dismiss you, looking away. It makes you grab his chin.

“I thought you didn’t want me anymore,” you finally say plainly. Steve’s eyes stop looking for anywhere else to rest, instead flying to your face and blowing wide. He opens his mouth but you keep going. “I thought you weren’t attracted to me anymore. That you didn’t see me in that way…”

“Honey, stop,” Steve says, speaking forcefully for the first time all night. For the first time in months. “That’s crazy. You know that? You know you’re talking crazy, right? Like certifiably insane.”

“Steve…”

“How could you say that? Are you out of your mind?” His voice raises a bit as he gets more riled up. It makes you bite your lip.

“Don’t…don’t belittle…” you can feel the flood of emotion starting to surge to the surface, the dam much quicker to break these days since you gave birth. Steve grips you tighter, hand on the back of your neck to force you to look at him.

“I’m not belittling your fears. You are belittling my love for you if you think for one second that I’m not attracted to you anymore. That I don’t fall in love with you again every single time I lay eyes on you. That I don’t want you with every dumb molecule in my being. And I know I was shitty in science class but I know thats a lot of fucking molecules. You’re belittling my feelings if you don’t think I want to keep my hands on you every waking minute and that it kills me that that’s not possible. That I don’t get out of bed really early each morning and jerk off in the shower just because I had you in my arms all night.”

A wet chuckle comes out of you unbidden. The corner of Steve’s mouth quirks up but his brow remains furrowed.

“You have to tell me when you’re worried about things, honey,” he says quietly as he rests his forehead against yours.

“Isn’t that literally what I just said to you?” you scoff incredulously. Steve leans back and finally gives you a lopsided smile.

“Well not exactly. I’m sure I changed the words a little bit.”

“Steve Harrington, that is word for word—,”

You’re cut off when Steve closes the gap between you with a kiss. There’s not once ounce of protest left in you. You are starved for his affection. Greedy to consume and be consumed. You kiss him back with everything you have. It is heated and wet and hard and everything that you have been needing. You push and he gives. Allowing you to pressure him down so his back is once again against the bed.

You’re grinding against him now and it’s so good. A triumphant zing runs down your spine at the feeling of how thick and hard he is for you, reciprocating all of your feelings and reinforcing all of his words.

Steve Harrington wants you.

The father of your child and the love of your life.

Your Steve.

When Steve’s lips migrate down over the slope of your jaw to suck at your pulse, you moan loudly. The feeling of suction travels all the way through your body to the space between your legs and before you can do anything to counter it, you’re rocking back and forth against Steve in search of any friction possible.

“Steve. Please,” you practically sob out. He puts his hands on either side of your face but before he can say anything, you continue whimpering. “Please, Steve. Just give me something, anything—,”

“Shh, honey,” Steve says, kissing your heated face. “You don’t have to beg. I’m so sorry to have made you think you ever have to beg. For anything.”

The next series of events plays out in slow motion. Both because it’s the culmination of all of your hopes and wishes for the last few months and because Steve moves incrementally. Gently.

“We’re gonna take this slow, honey,” Steve says quietly as he rolls so that you’re the one on your back, your head propped up on pillows. He grabs one additional pillow and lifts your hips up so that they are elevated by the cushion.

“We don’t—,” you try to interrupt but Steve hushes you again, not unkindly.

“Baby, I’ll bend you over and fuck you so hard the neighbors call 911 again soon,” he chuckles and you cringe at the memory of one of the best nights of sex of your life. Steve takes a shuddering breath, looking down at you spread out for him. “But tonight…we’re gonna do this slow. For both of us.”

Big hands slide the hem of your babydoll nightgown up, revealing your naked pussy which immediately receives attention. Steve presses two fingers to your clit and begins to go in tried and true circular motions.

“I’m just saying. We could go faster…oh.” You’re cut off when one of Steve’s fingers slides all the way into you, causing your eyes to roll back. Steve chuckles and leans forward to kiss your exposed throat.

“Baby, I need to go slow. Don’t you get it?” he mutters into your skin. He moves his finger in and out of you slowly. “You’re acting like you’re the only one who hasn’t been fucked in months.”

The perspective has you preening, but before you can dig into that further, Steve presses the weight of his body on you and you’re a goner.

It’s all weight and skin and sweat and the skim of flesh on flesh and moans and warm breath.

You begin to forget where Steve ends and you begin. You both are one raw nerve ending, spurred on by gasps and rubs and moans. As someone whose patience had seemingly run out, you’re surprised to realize how easy it is to lose track of time with your lover so lost in you, and you in him. You don’t know how long it is that you revel in touch and pressure and heat before you feel him prodding at your entrance. Swollen and hot and and hard and needy and yours.

“Ready, baby?” Steve asks. He sounds far away, but you make sure to muster up eye contact so you can assure him as much as possible.

“Ready, Steve.”

He pushes in slow, and you’re pleased to confirm that you were right. You are ready for him. For this. There’s no discomfort. Just the inevitable sting of his size invading you in every way.

“Oh fuck,” you say quietly. Steve pulls out and then drives back in, more firm this time. You squeeze your eyes shut. “Oh fuck, fuck.”

“Get it all out, baby,” Steve says with a roguish grin. “Say whatever you need to tonight. Don’t want to be all foul mouthed with our daughter around.”

You know he’s joking but you roll your eyes.

“Well Eddie Munson called me a slut in front of our daughter the other day, so—,”

“He WHAT?!” Steve stops immediately, eyes wide. You laugh and grab at his ass, trying to force him to start moving again.

“It’s nothing. Just a joke. Come on, keep going!”

“You saying he called you a slut was a joke or him calling you a slut was the the joke?” Steve asks warily, but he does slowly begin thrusting back into you.

“The second one. I mean the first. I mean both - ah!” you gasp at the feeling of Steve nudging against a delicious spot inside you. Your nails dig deep into his arm. “Oh god.”

“Am I going to have to limit Eddie’s family privileges?” Steve jokes, knowing fully well that Eddie is yours just as much as Robin is his. You’re squinting up at him, brow furrowed. It’s adorable.

“Can you stop talking about Eddie Munson while you’re making me feel like this?” you ask.

“Hey, you’re the one who brought him up.”

You don’t dignify that with a response. Instead you surrender yourself to the pleasure melting through your bloodstream. Steve can see it on your face. It makes his ego swell in that way it always used to. A boyish grin splits his face and his hips pick up the pace.

“Making you feel like this, huh?” He quotes you. “Feels good?”

“Yeah. So good.”

“This what you wanted? Just wanted me to fuck you like old times?”

“If it was - oh god - like old times we’d both be drunk and fooling around in the bathroom at the - fuck - Hideout,” you try to say, though you’re interrupted by your own moans.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Steve says, leaning down and sucking on your throat again. There will definitely be marks, but you don’t have it in you to care or reprimand him. “I’m drunk on you right now.”

“Steve…,” you whisper. The name cracks in your throat when he snakes his hand down to play with your clit.

“Sounds like you’re drunk, too, baby - oh.”

The tone of his “oh” is different from his earlier teasing and you look down. Two wet spots have formed in the silk nightgown over your breasts.

“Shit. Shit,” you whine.

“Is that…”

“I’m lactating. I’m lactating during sex, Steve.” You have your hands slapped over your eyes to hide you away from the mortification of the moment.

“It’s ok. Hey. Hey! It’s okay.” Steve is chuckling, but his hands do their best to peel yours away from your eyes. Your crumpled face makes his heart hurt so he kisses your cheeks. “Baby, it’s okay. You were feeling good, right?”

“Yeah…but…”

“There’s no but. That’s all that matters,” Steve says definitively before dropping a more insistent kiss on your lips. His tongue delves into your mouth, his fingers winding in your hair. He’s trying to distract you. And it’s working, because soon your hips are rolling, trying to get him to start thrusting back into you again.

Steve finally pulls back, his hand gentle on your jaw.

“Do they hurt?” he asks quietly, glancing down at your breasts and back up.

“They’re a bit achey, yeah,” you admit. He leans down and presses a kiss to the valley between them. Your breath catches at the feeling. Steve hand comes up to cup one gingerly and you bite your lip. “Maybe don’t touch my nipples too much. Sensitive.”

“Of course, baby,” Steve agrees. He sits up higher, propping himself up with a hand by your head so that he’s leaning over you but has the leverage to pick up his thrusts again. Before long the feeling of him bottoming out inside you has you releasing a steady stream of moans. “Seems like you’re sensitive all over, huh?”

“Mmmmyeah,” you confirm, eyes shut tight against the pleasure.

Steve can feel your pussy start to clamp down on him. It’s his favorite feeling in the world - one his own fist could never hope to replicate. The apparent nearness of your orgasm spurs him on more than any aphrodisiac and he begins panting openly, his hips picking up speed.

“You’re close, I know you are, honey.”

You just nod furiously, practically beyond words as you grip his biceps for all you’re worth. Steve lets out a breathless chuckle.

“I know, me too, honey. You gotta cum for me, okay?”

“Steve…” you gasp out, peering up at him through lust hazed eyes.

“Yeah?”

“Don’t…don’t make me go this long again,” you say weakly. “Please.”

Steve’s heart absolutely splinters at the way you say it. He drops himself even lower against you, his thrusts taking on a even harder, more intentional quality.

“I won’t. I promise,” Steve says hoarsely right into your ear, his lips mouthing at the lobe as he does so. “I’ll fuck you right, baby. You’ll see. You’ll never have to ask again.”

You spasm in his arms shortly after Steve makes that promise to you. He’s not far behind, especially not with the way you cry out his name like is both a prayer and and answer to one. He spills into your still quaking walls with a guttural groan that you do your best to swallow, somehow not satiated by the sex alone. You need to consume Steve’s being.

~*~

What comes after shouldn’t be your favorite part, but somehow it is. It’s the part where Steve holds you in his arms, sweaty and still shaking a little. Kisses pepper your temples and his breath fans over your face. After a while, a comedically timed stomach growl reminds you both that neither of you have eaten, so you finally stumble out to the kitchen, naked and draped over one another, to eat a meal.

It’s the part later in the evening where you try to suck Steve’s cock while watching tv, but he won’t let you because he won’t let the mother of his child bruise her knees (he’ll change his tune in a few weeks but it’s cute for now). Instead he drags you back to bed for the night and makes you cum on his tongue before fucking you once more and ensuring you have the heaviest sleep you’ve had in months.

It’s the part the next morning where you wake up with still a few hours to go before Eddie brings your daughter back from Joyce and Hopper’s. Where you wake up to your husband wrapped around you, his morning wood tucked between your thighs. This time you don’t hesitate in initiating yourself. Taking what you both want. Steve’s moans score your morning beautifully, while his cum paints the canvas of your belly and your face wears a self satisfied grin.

Your favorite part is having quiet cups of coffee in the kitchen. Holding hands as you wait for the toast to pop up. Reading the morning paper and handing Steve the comics section without having to be asked. Reaching a hand out to fluff his hair fondly when he reads out the most ridiculous panels.

Your favorite part is when Eddie brings your daughter back and you get to watch the light in Steve’s eyes magnify as he picks her up in his arms. He coos at her and she smiles and you sweat you ascend to heaven.

Eddie lingers in the doorway after Steve hoists the diaper bag and brings his precious cargo into the living room.

“So are you all…satisfied?” Eddie asks uncomfortably. You punch him in the shoulder but you’re unable to hide the massive smile on your face.

“Yes. Yes I am, thank you,” you reply, completely genuine. Eddie grins back at you, squeezing your hand.

“I’m happy for you, slut.”

You’re about to reply when you both freeze, surprised by a loud voice coming from the living room.

“EDWARD MUNSON, IF YOU CALL MY WIFE A SLUT ONE MORE TIME!”

~*~

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I hope you enjoyed! Please comment and reblog to let me know, thanks for reading!

#steve harrington smut #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x fem!reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington / reader #stranger things smut #dad!steve harrington

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koinotame · 4 days

Text

quick apology fic to xiao for missing his bday </3 which doubles as a character study of xiao and an exploration of how you as the player interact with the self aware characters in self aware au

it’s been a couple of weeks since you last used him.

or has it only been several days? whether it’s days or years, it all feels like the blink of an eye to him. the flow of time is somewhat of a nebulous concept for someone like him, especially since you first appeared.

it doesn’t matter. however long you take to come back, xiao will wait dutifully for you.

he spends most of his time when you’re not making use of him subjugating threats around liyue and fighting off any unwanted foes. perhaps you’ll come back faster if the area is freer of enemies. you’re kind, after all. you seem much happier when it’s peaceful.

lately, when there’s no demons for him to quell, he’s found himself returning to the same spot on wangshu inn’s upper balcony. it’s the spot you always drop him off at before disappearing. it’s not the place at the top of the inn’s roof he’d pick on his own, though you do sometimes take him up there as well.

you’re not actually there, but if he closes his eyes it almost feels like you are.

his birthday was a couple days ago. as usual, the traveller had suggested he write you a letter. as usual, he wasn’t sure what he could possibly convey to you that you would be happy to receive.

the traveller insisted anything from him would make you happy, but xiao doubts that.

it’s easier when you’re here. it’s easier when you’re here and he can submit himself entirely to you and doesn’t have to think for himself.

he’s been dreaming more lately, particularly of you. he doesn’t know what you look like, and after he wakes up he can never quite remember what you looked like in his dreams.

waking up after dreaming of you is always hard for xiao. it’s shameful how badly he wants to go back to dreaming of doing such mundane things with you, and it’s disgraceful how long it takes him to pick himself back up afterwards.

he wonders if you’d like doing dull things like that with someone like him.

he wonders if he deserves that.

probably not.

he left the letter at the railing of that same—your—spot, along with a serving of his almond tofu (he might not like dreaming, but he hopes your dreams are as sweet as his have been lately), some dream solvent (the traveller had mentioned you seemed to want more) and a small bundle of qixing (you frequently go out of your way to collect it).

you never touch it.

…after a couple days, he decided to move the offering to his room. it stays there, on his windowsill where the sun touches it in a way that reminds him of your warmth, untouched.

it doesn’t matter, he tells himself. he’ll wait for you for as long as you want. even if another thousand years pass before you appear again, he’ll continue his duty and wait.

and then he blinks and suddenly finds himself in front of the adventurer’s guild in the court of fontaine.

another blink and he’s back at wangshu inn, this time heading towards the kitchen. the familiar aura of your possession fills him with a warmth he doesn’t think exists outside of you. he zones out for what feels no longer than a couple seconds, and suddenly there’s thirty servings of almond tofu in front of him.

your mood drops.

dissatisfaction seeps through you and into him. something deep in his gut squirms.

you set a large amount of sweet flowers to boil, then seem to fuss with something he can’t quite see or grasp. smiley yanxiao gives him a curious look, but doesn’t (cannot) comment any further.

in another couple of seconds—your teleportation hardly fazed him when you first started using him, let alone now when he’s so used to your presence—he’s in front of the liyuean general goods store. you buy up the entire stock of milk, and only milk.

your mood hasn’t improved. if anything, you seem even more downcast.

the milk dissipates as soon as it’s been bought, safely held in your near infinite storage.

he’s behind mondstadt’s hotel next, jumping down the railing and towards the local general goods store. again, you buy up all the milk. next you head for the good hunter (is that what it’s called? he thinks that’s what the traveller called it some time ago) and purchase as much of their sugar as you can.

tendrils of something truly unpleasant move upwards and wrap around his neck.

he finds himself in wangshu inn’s kitchen again. barely any of the sweet flowers have been processed, but you take the two packs of sugar anyway. you put him to work immediately.

usually, he finds the process of cooking much to tedious and drawn out. with you, he doesn’t mind.

you seem a bit more satisfied this time, and xiao finds himself ashamed of having made a few more of his specialty dish instead of only regular almond tofu like you’d wanted him to.

while you seem a bit happier now, he still finds himself in front of inazuma’s goods store. again, you buy all the milk. you talk to the restaurant owner up the stairs afterwards. some confusion creeps into him through you, but it doesn’t last long.

he’s in sumeru next. more milk makes its way into your inventory, and you visit the local tavern for good measure, though this time you don’t buy anything at all.

exiting the building, you seem to notice there’s a stove just outside of it and walk over in excitement… and straight into the clay oven.

a sharp pang of panic shoots through him and he jerks backwards. it takes him a second to realise it’s your panic.

immediately, you pull the astrologer from mondstadt out and have her set down her little hydro puppet. you then walk him through it, which does absolutely nothing except soak his clothes.

your panic doesn’t subside.

i’m sorry.

he blinks and finds himself in front of dihua marsh’s statue of the seven, the fire and the tinge it brought with it disappearing in seconds.

it’s rare to be able to make out what you’re actually saying as opposed to just feeling your vague emotions and intentions. are you that worried about him not performing up to standard with this little damage?

he’s yours to use. a little singe like that would never hold him back.

you don’t bother with fontaine.

something like shame curls up his body and makes a home near his ears.

soon after, he’s back at the inn’s kitchen again. yanxiao doesn’t even look in his direction this time as he gets back to work under your guidance, making even more almond tofu. he makes sure to take greater care to avoid displeasing you again.

your mood doesn’t pick up this time, but you seem to have calmed down a little. he’s not sure why (or what use you could possibly have for so much almond tofu), but it’s a small comfort.

part of him wishes he could be there with you properly to comfort you, but he knows better.

he might be your formidable weapon, but that’s all he is. he has no false illusions about his role or purpose to you, no matter how much he wishes he could be the one you turn to for comfort. he isn’t suited to something so delicate. he’s accepted that a long time ago.

your dejection doesn’t retract, even as you move him around a bit more.

then you sit him down at a table at the inn’s terrace and pull out a plate of his specialty.

your presence lingers for a bit, envelops him like a gentle dream, then falls through the cracks of his existence and disappears.

happy birthday, xiao.

he wonders if he deserves this much effort from you for something as inconsequential as his birthday.

probably not.

he hopes he’ll dream of this next.

#yandere #yandere x reader #x reader #genshin impact #yandere genshin impact #self aware au #self aware genshin #sagau #xiao #'character study' i say and then worry this is perhaps too ooc #i mean. ultimately. self aware and/or yan characters are going to be a bit ooc. but like within the realm of that #this isn't super yandere but you know. tags there just in case #writing the base of this took like an hour max. editing it took me like three lol #i do think i'm actually fairly happy with the end result though for once so yay #<- jinxing myself here

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amaiaqt · 9 months

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ㅤㅤㅤㅤミㅤthe cold has never been so niceㅤ⋆ ｡˚ㅤ♡ ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤspending cold evenings with them ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤventi, xiao, kazuha, heizou, wanderer !

"anonymous order; ...could i have lovey dovey + 5wirl + warm milk vs. hot chocolate ? — message cut."

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤthese guys are in high demand esp for lovey dovey LMAO ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤthank you and please enjoy, xoxo ♡

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ｡ﾟ ⊹ㅤventi !ㅤ

sometimes the wind can be cold, and those are the times that venti uses to his advantage as an excuse to coddle - or to be coddled by - you.

and in his defense, it's not much. since it's not everyday and night that he has your undivided attention after all. so he wants to make the most of this evening with you, even if it means refusing to let you get out of bed.

"windblume don't leave the bed ~" he pleaded, hand tugging on your clothes to hold you back, though it wasn't really effective. you stood up from the bed despite your boyfriend's protests, slightly dragging him with you by the arm that still refused to let go.

"i'll be right back, promise ! i'm just gonna go make us hot chocolate." you took the hand that tugged on your shirt in yours, chuckling at the childish huffs your boyfriend let out. he begrudgingly got up, rubbing his eyes and choosing to follow you instead. "i'll just . . go with you." "i said i'll be right back ?" "it'll be cold without you either way !"

"alright, alright, if you say so."

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ｡ﾟ ⊹ㅤalatus xiao !

he believes he's adapted to the cold, both figuratively and literally. but even a yaksha can't deny the comforting warmth that shields against the harsh breeze.

here he is, sitting by his now favored spot on the balcony of the inn, across from you. the makeshift coffee table you had borrowed from downstairs sat between the two of you, with the tea set you had oh so excitedly showed him the other day set out.

as you poured the newly boiled water into the cups, xiao sighed as the steam warmed him up. "i think it's strange how instead of making tea with this set, you're brewing up milk instead." he commented, bringing the cup closer to his face to further warm himself up with the steam. "well we don't have tea now do we ?" "couldn't you have asked smiley yanxiao ?" "i did, he didn't have any." "i see,"

the wind on the balcony brought a sudden breeze, and xiao reached over to tuck some stray strands away from your face for you.

"do you like the cold, xiao ?" "i like it better with you."

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ｡ﾟ ⊹ㅤkaedehara kazuha !ㅤ

the winds were feeling generous today, he hummed to himself as he chose to redo his low ponytail, brushing back most of his bangs as he tied it back up, slowly growing inconvenience by how the wind blew his hair into his line of sight.

kazuha took a deep breathe as he admired the moon, illuminating the water in a way you'd see in a painting.

"kazu, come down would you ?" he whipped his head around to see you below, taking note of the two cups in your hands. he smiled softly as he used the ropes to glide down to the deck. "sorry darling, did you get cold without me ?" he asked, taking the cup you offered him and breathing in the scent of the cocoa. "i did actually, but i figured to make some hot chocolate before coming out for you." he chuckled, pulling you in as you two now sat on a nearby bench, his hand resting on your waist as he blew softly on his cup.

"the moon is beautiful, isn't it ?" he leaned his head on your shoulder, while yours leaned on his. "it is, but that's no excuse for you to be staying up so late." you flicked his forehead lightly, laughing along with him.

"i know, i know. besides," he looked up at you, "i have my own moon already."

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ｡ﾟ ⊹ㅤshikanoin heizou !ㅤ

soft lips trailed kisses all over your collarbone as heizou laid on your chest, the pitter patter of the rain on the windows fading into somewhat of a melody.

he sighed whenever your fingertips would massage his scalp lightly before brushing through his burgundy locks. "mhmm, if only we could be like this more often." he huffed, nuzzling his face further into your chest as his arms comfortably wrapped around you.

you chuckled, "yeah, but a great detective is always needed, otherwise, cases aren't going to solve themselves are they ?" this earned a scoff from the detective. "but you need a great boyfriend too, am i right ?" he smiled up at you, now leaning up on his elbows.

you shook your head with an ear to ear smile on your face, reaching over for the cup of hot chocolate left on the table, with heizou mimicking you and reaching for his own.

"but seriously, i do wish we could do this more often too." you whispered, leaning back on his shoulder as heizou nodded. "and i promise you, we'll do this as much as we want soon enough." he smiled, both for you and himself.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ｡ﾟ ⊹ㅤwanderer !ㅤ

he's never felt the cold before, nor has he ever felt the warmth. he can't, really.

but he can at least imagine what it feels like. and this, the way your face nuzzled into the crook of his neck with your arms around his shoulders, breathes tickling his skin. this is what he imagines warmth to feel like.

he felt everytime you blew the cup of warm milk in your hands before taking a sip, while he instead would drink straight up while it was steaming. as a matter of fact, this is what he hopes warmth feels like.

"kuni, you seem lost in thought again." you shifted back, looking at him with a concerned hint in your eyes. he shook his head, mustering the most genuine smile he can. "i am, but don't worry, they're not bad thoughts." you nodded, "if you say so."

his gaze shifts around the room, then back to you. "can i . . can i ask you something ?" he hesitated, but relaxed when you hummed so patiently. "this, like this," he set his cup down on the table next to the two of you and pulled you closer by the waist, "is this what warmth should feel like ?" he looks up at you, looking for every hint he may find, the way your face heated up, is that warmth too ?

"well, warmth can be felt in many ways," you tried to explain, with kuni nodding on, listening. "but this is one of my favorite ways to feel it." he blinked, "so, yes ?" "yeah, yes." . . .

"then, this is my favorite warmth too."

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ© amaiaqt, 2023 ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ ㅤㅤㅤㅤdo not plagiarize !

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greywritesthings · 1 month

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Honeycomb hot chocolate

Spencer Reid x Autistic!Reader

fluff

warnings: description of overwhelm / sensory overload, mention of shutdown? police being sexist dicks

a/n - Thank you sm to @spinningspencer for the ideas for some more dynamic / general autism quirks <3 more autistic!reader will be coming so if anyone else has any ideas send em to my ask box! (Also honeycomb hot chocolate is top teir i absolutely adore it) reblogs, likes and comments appreciated!

Part 1 Part 3

masterlist

“Wheels up in thirty, Penelope, you're coming with us.” Hotch says as he leaves the meeting room, the others following behind him. The idea of getting on a plane to Anchorage, Alaska for nearly eight hours practically made your teeth hurt. Spencer looks over at you with concern and when you nod at him he gets the message that you just need a second to prepare for the trip.

After a few minutes you gather the mental strength to leave the room and head over to the coffee machine where Spencer now stood with both your go bags and a new packet of gum. Once you get to him he hands you your usual honeycomb hot chocolate, the honeycomb syrup being a gift from rossi for christmas three years ago that you had fallen in love with, once you had run out he had wordlessly replaced it and had done the same since, you tried leaving him the money for it on his desk at first but it just ended up back on you own with a sticky note saying “stop it :) '' So you gave up, saving the sticky note in the box within your desk, knowing ordinarily he wouldn't put a smiley face on it but he didnt want you to misconstrue his tone. “C'mon you two love birds, we gotta get to the jet” Derek announces as he walks across the room encouraging Spencer and you two follow.

Once you had settled on the jet you settled into your usual spot in the four seater next to the window with Spencer on your right. You pull his hand onto your lap and just start to mindlessly fidget with his fingers while you wait for the others to join you. He carried fidget toys in his bag for you but generally you used his hands or if you were alone he would hand you his tie, it brought you more comfort and less attention in public they had quickly become your most common and favoured stims.

The flight had been incredibly overstimulating, as they normally were but this was an eight hour flight of pure hell. Spencer tried his best to help once you had discussed the case, you had gone off to the jet's sofa bed where Spencer had promptly laid on top of you to act as a makeshift weighted blanket, a normal sight to the team at this point.

You were sent to the station with Spencer and Emily to start from there while the others went to the crime scenes. You had no real idea whether the local police were going to welcome you or if you were going to walk into a blue wall of resistance. “Do you two want to stop by a coffee shop before we go in?” Emily suggests to which you both eagerly agree given the jet coffees are intolerable to you and barely drinkable to the rest. You did go in but there were so many people including some crying children, a massive trigger for your misophonia, that you nearly cried standing in line, spencer had gently put his arm around you and guided you out giving emily a small nod when she asked if you would have hot chocolate knowing spencer carried a mini bottle of the honeycomb syrup in his bag, while you covered your ears and closed your eyes fully trusting spencer to get you out before you shut down.

Once you arrived at the station it was the worst of the options, none of the officers wanted to cooperate with the FBI, let alone any women. You were given flack all day, no one wanted to do anything that was asked of them unless it was by the men. You were able to stand up for yourself and argue with them as much as was needed but it was exhausting and coupled with everything else it meant by the late evening when the officers had mostly gone home you were non verbal and entirely reliant on Spencer to help.

You stood intentionally opposite sides of the room so Spencer could see where your eyes went and how you tapped, you had pretty much come up with your own morse code over the years. He told the team what you had come up with, what you agreed with and what you didn't but also he knew what you needed, he handed you hot chocolates and coffees when he knew you wanted one just from a glance at your mug or the machine, he handed you over the papers you needed as you looked across the table. Anything you needed or wanted he gave you pretty much immediately, normally it would be the same on your end, you two worked in sync on any given day but on days like today he was your rock that stopped you from hitting an absolute crash and burn.

#greyswritings #criminal minds x reader #spencer reid fluff #criminal minds #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you

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esmedelacroix · 6 months

Text

Coffee Shop Love Pt.4

pairing: miguel o'hara x f!reader

summary: He's as stern and cold as the snow falling from the sky blanketing the bustling streets of Nueva York, Miguel O'Hara stumbles upon a hidden gem of a coffee shop just around the corner from Alchemax. Only problem is the annoying-as-shit smiley-ass barista.

contents: slow burn, no use of y/n, fluffmania, implied age gap, suggestive, forced proximity

author's note: Hi lovies, :( this part is coming to you very late >.< ! The semester is ending soon and I'm an academic weapon so I've been writing papers and studying, here's the fourth chapter for y'all :) ! I suggest you read this chapter while listening to "Strangers In The Night" by Frank Sinatra on repeat it sets the perfect tone for this chapter, enjoy...

word count: 1.6k

Pt.1, Pt.2, Pt.3, Pt.4, Pt. 5, Pt.6, Pt.7, Sequel: Sweet Tooth

You both looked down at your phones in disbelief. Your thoughts raced like a thousand wild stallions, galloping through your mind at breakneck speed What do we do? Will he have to stay over? How will he react when I tell him I have one bed? He couldn't fit on the couch to save his life. You thought to yourself trying to figure out what could be done.

"So a whole day here?" Miguel asked as the shock slowly dissipated from his face.

"Yeah, well I better lock up and turn the heaters on," you said as you got up the locked the doors.

"So uh, I live upstairs," you said awkwardly.

"Okay, I live several blocks down," He joked eliciting a chuckle from you as laughter danced lightly upon Miguel's chest.

"You know what I mean, I'm inviting you into my apartment," you said pointing at the stairs as a flush crept onto your cheeks.

"I'm just pulling your leg chula," he chuckled. You both walked up the stairs to your apartment. A melange of peppermint, gingerbread, and vanilla, like Santa's North Pole workshop in an aromatic form.

The fireplace crackled merrily, festive blankets were strewn across the couch, and a tray of gingerbread cookies patiently awaited their turn in the oven. Your apartment was the epitome of Holiday cheer and warmth. The exact opposite of Miguel's place. Which was currently dark cold and empty. Not a trace of color other than the black and dark blue that his interior designer had insisted on. But was the point of a home that didn't feel like anyone was living in it? Your house was all color. Your house had memories scattered over the wall just like in the shop. Your house had lights all around, messy blankets and pillows, dishes in the sink, and baked goods sprinkled all over the dining table.

"So sorry it's a little messy," you murmured timidly.

"That's fine, it's nice," he mumbled.

You both looked at each other awkwardly before turning away. "So, I only have one bed, and there's no way you're fitting on the couch so, I could take the couch," you thought aloud.

"Well I'm not going to make you sleep on your couch," he said.

"I'm fine with sharing the bed, as long as you don't make it weird," you said.

"Well you just made it weird by thinking that I was gonna make it weird," he quipped.

"Well, well, ditto," you rebutted.

"Ditto? Double ditto," he chuckled.

"Double double ditto times a million trillion gazillion," you giggled.

You both burst into a fit of laughter. You both agreed to take turns in the shower. You lent him your brother's old clothes that he had left the last time he visited. That was how Miguel ended up sitting on your couch with a generic pair of black and red plaid pj pants. With the ugliest ugly sweater on. You plopped down next to him, straight out of the shower.

Your hair smelled like fresh candy canes. He could smell it every time it would whip around when you cracked your neck. Your skin smelled faintly like sweet gingerbread and vallina. You had an interesting selection of Christmas-themed self-care. What's the use of 'sugar cookie' lip balm? I kind of want to taste it..., ew Miguel, he thought to himself.

"So since you have to spend all night and a whole day with me, you have to understand why I love Christmas so much. We're going to watch only the best holiday movie series ever, 'A Christmas Prince,'" you said excitedly as you got up and got some holiday treats and put them on the coffee table.

"This better not be some sappy romance," he groaned.

"Oh hunny, it's all the sap, all drama, and all stupidity and miscommunication. But that's what makes them so good," you explained.

Although Miguel was sure he would hate the movie, he was more invested in it than you were. Every time you would try to talk he would shush you, "I need to see what happens next," he would whisper as he strangled you squish mellow from anticipation.

You started messing with him by talking during the movie which got him so frustrated he threw a pillow at your face playfully. But you had taken this as a declaration of battle and started a pillow fight. It was full-on warfare and giggles all around. You could tell Miguel was holding back all of his strength because he could probably actually hurt you.

You pounced on Miguel, knocking him backward onto the couch. Pillows flew in the air around you as you both tumbled, your laughter turning into shared, breathless excitement.

You found yourself on top of him, faces inches apart, heartbeats racing. Your warm breaths hit each other's face, and you both lay there, staring into each other's eyes.

Miguel's playful smile slowly softened into something deeper, something more intimate. His eyes locked with yours, and for a moment, the world outside the room ceased to exist. It was just the two of you, lost in that brief moment of connection.

Your breath caught as the intensity of the moment enveloped you. You felt a magnetic pull towards Miguel, an unspoken attraction that had been simmering beneath the surface for far too long. The air between you crackled with unspoken words, and as your eyes locked, they shared a moment of understanding, a silent promise of what could be.

But just as quickly as it had come, the moment was broken by the sound of the timer on the oven going off, signifying to the two of you that the gingerbread was ready. The laughter returned, but now it held an extra layer of tension, a newfound awareness of the connection you had just shared.

You both get up, brush yourselves off, and head to the kitchen to take the baked goods out. "Why bake more when you have a million variants of baked goods everywhere?" Miguel inquired as he helped you put the slabs of gingerbread into your fridge to cool.

"I have to test and create the entire seasonal menu before I serve it," you explain.

"That sounds tiring..." he starts.

"No! It's actually really fun! Here try this red velvet cake," she said excitedly. Miguel was waiting for another opportunity to have your baking without having to outright ask you for some, and you knew that.

He took a bite and to no one's surprise, he loved it. But he wouldn't tell you that and tried not to let it show either. The rest of the night went on without a hitch until you were both exhausted. You took a look at the clock, [2:23 am]. Your eyelids felt heavier, and you could see Miguel start to blink for a little too long while trying to watch the third Christmas Prince movie. You used all the energy left in your body to get up. "C'mon big guy, we should get to bed," you said tapping his shoulder. All you got from him was a small smirk and picked up a pillow and whipped it at his face.

"You nasty!" you started before stopping and stomping into your room. Miguel followed you into your room chuckling lowly.

The moon cast a soft glow through the bedroom window, painting the room in muted silver hues as you and Miguel settled into bed. There was an unspoken tension between you two, a tangible distance that lingered in the cool air. The bed, once a refuge for dreams, now seemed an expanse to navigate cautiously. As the night unfolded, lost in the realm of dreams, you began to shiver subtly. Miguel noticed your discomfort, remembering you telling him that you were always cold.

With hesitancy, he inched closer, the space between you shrinking with each careful movement. The distance that had felt overwhelming moments ago now seemed trivial, as if the gravitational pull of shared warmth was irresistible. Miguel's arms encircled your body, a gentle cradle against the night's chill. His body heat became a lifeline, a silent promise to ward off the cold. Nuzzling his face into the curve of your neck, he couldn't help but marvel at the vulnerability of sleep and the unspoken connection that drew them closer.

You, amid a dream, sighed with the blissful surrender of someone finding solace. As Miguel held you close, your shivers ceased, replaced by a quiet tranquility. The once-distinct boundary between them dissolved into the shared warmth of the moment. In the hushed stillness, you emitted a soft, contented snore, a sound that resonated with an endearing charm. Miguel couldn't help but smile, finding the delicate symphony of her sleep both heartwarming and irresistibly cute.

Cuddling in bed wasn’t a part of the plan but you weren’t complaining. Your sweet scent invaded Miguel's senses. You smelled just as good as the cookies you had baked. Your skin was as soft as the velvety stockings you had hanging over your fireplace. He could stay like this forever. He never made wishes but he hoped and prayed that Medusa would come to him and turn him to stone so that he would never be able to let you go. He let fatigue carry him to dreamland, your snores acting as a fleeting melody in the silent serenade of the night.

Next... Pt.5

taglist:

@iite-cool@jewelz-teehe@br0-please@amber-content@thesilenthill@d1lf-loverrr@corpsebridenightamare@laysmt@bitchystrawberrystudent

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espinosaurusrexex · 1 year

Note

Just an idea :) for Sherlock, what if Enola is always trying to get him to date cuz either he's lonely or always focused on work. But he always turns down the idea. Then one day she lures him to her favorite bookshop (or cafe, etc) and casually introduces him to her favorite employee. And the pickup line just comes out of no where, even he is surprised lolz. Feel free to not use this at all if you get better ideas😂

Thank you so much for this idea! For writing purposes, this will take place in modern times (*writing purposes meaning me being too lazy to write period specific)

Cheesy Pick-up Line (Bingo Game)

!BINGO ASKS CLOSED!

College!Henry!SherlockHolmes x Female!Reader

word count: 1.3k

warnings: a little bickering, awkward Sherlock, fluffy and cute

Enola giggled excitedly as she pushed past the glass double doors of her favorite library. Her brother was following behind closely, a disinterested look on his face as they entered the small building. For Enola, it was the perfect place to be, but Sherlock just asked himself what he was doing here instead of studying for his criminal justice exam next week.

What he had not concluded yet, was that Enola Holmes had an agenda far different from the story she had told her brother about just an hour ago. He didn’t know his sister had spent weeks finding a way to finally get him to leave his stuffy, foot-smelling boy room. She had mashed her brain about it as she roamed the shelves of her favorite place and when she checked out the other day, she was embarrassed to have thought of it so late. It was blatantly obvious. Her brother needed a girlfriend. Someone that would encourage him to live outside of his schoolwork every once in a while. And you were the perfect candidate for the job. Smiley and charming, intelligent and pretty, and on top of that, someone Enola liked very much. She had established a first-name basis with you over the hours she spent in the little library you worked at. Today, she would try to accomplish the same for Sherlock.

Sherlock stood between the rows of shelves, waiting for his sister to finish collecting the mountain of books he was sure she wasn’t even allowed to check out at once. She had recruited him to ‘help her carry them’ as if she weren’t very capable of it herself. And besides, Enola was the one always underlining her independence and that women could do just as much as men. Something wasn’t adding up.

Enola placed another book in his arms. One she had mindlessly pulled from the shelve to keep her story alive. It was a small sacrifice for the gratification she would get would her brother finally fall in love this evening. She was sure of it. No more feigned disinterest in the stories their family told about cousins and other relatives having their first partners. No more annoying dismissal of their mother’s subtle hints towards his isolating himself. No more bad moods because of the uncalled-for comments Mycroft threw at him when he visited with his fiancé. It was about to change today.

“Relativity Theory?” He lifted an eyebrow before Enola could disappear behind another shelf. “Hamlet? What kind of homework is this supposed to be?”

“You wouldn’t understand,” Enola quipped before placing an autobiography in his arms.

“They’ll think you’re robbing this place.” He readjusted the books because even though he was fairly strong, they slipped in his grasp. “How are you planning on checking those all out?”

“Jokes on you, my check-out limit has been upgraded because I’m a regular.”

“To 17? That’s too many. Too many books in general. Even for your ADHD brain.”

She glared at him. “Well, that’s where you come into play. With your card, we can check out 15. And for the other two, I’ll just have to sweet talk my way through.”

“You’re impossible, Enola.” Sherlock rolled his eyes as he followed his younger sibling to the counter.

“Shut up, It’s hard carrying enough character for Mycroft and you. You should thank me, really.”

“Unbelievable,” he muttered under his breath and then he placed the books down with a thud.

Enola Smiled as she saw you approach the counter from the back office. Once you were here, the hot phase of her plan would be set in motion. And she couldn’t wait.

“Good evening, Enola. I see you brought someone new with you today?” You asked kindly with a bright smile on your face. Most people that came into the library didn’t talk much, but ever since Enola came around, she made the day a whole lot better. She grew to be a friend to you, which was why you also already knew who the handsome ‘stranger’ next to her was. But you wouldn’t reveal it just yet, that would be creepy.

“This is my Brother, Sherlock.” Enola just smiled as she placed her pile of books on the counter as well.

“Nice to meet you,” the tall brunette smiled behind his glasses, soft curls falling into his face when he nodded toward you.

“Nice to meet you, too. I would ask if you found everything you were looking for, but I guess it’s even more than that...” You counted the books, sending Enola a warning look. You had gone through the trouble of sweet-talking Old Mrs. Thomson if Enola could be an exception to the ‘only six books for home’ rule once again. Trying one more would get you on dusting duty for at least three weeks.

Your eyes locked with Sherlocks. “Do you have a library card?” And then your attention was back to the register, typing away on the little blue display.

Sherlock couldn’t see what you were doing, but he knew he wanted your eyes back on him. He didn’t know why, there was something about you that made him all excited. “Why? Because you want to check me out?” Uh oh.

Your fingers stopped hacking away at the outdated machine and your eyes wandered back to him. A deep blush tinted his cheeks and ears pink as you tried to hold back the laugh pushing at your throat.

Sherlock wanted the earth to swallow him whole. Why had he just said that? What was wrong with him?

And while her brother desperately attempted to hide his shocked face, Enola just stood beside him, equally stunned. She hadn’t known it had gotten this bad. His constant isolation must have messed with his social competence somehow. Because whatever she was just witnessing, was beyond secondhand embarrassment. He made her job harder to bring the two of you together, and honestly, right now, Enola did not see a chance for her brother.

“Yes, yes he has. Here!” Enola ripped the card from her brother's pocket and handed it to you. You, who bit your lips to hide the smile creeping on your features and shook your head.

Sherlock didn’t say another word after that. Too embarrassed to ever talk again, really, he waited out the time until you were finished scanning all the books and his and Enola’s cards. Relief washed over him when you said your goodbyes.

“I'm making an exception this time, Enola. Mrs. Thomson must not know about this and you better bring all of these books back without a single mark,” you warned.

But Enola countered weakly, matted by her idiot brother destroying the best plan ever made. “When did I ever not?” Still, she tried a sneaky smile on her lips.

When the doors fell close behind them and the siblings walked along the sidewalk home, Enola shoved her brother harshly.

“Great job, you idiot. You just ruined your only chance at not becoming a weird and bitter old man.”

But Sherlock didn’t answer. He was well aware of the embarrassment he had just presented himself as in that library and in front of you. With his head hung low, he opened the top book in his arms to retrieve his library card, but when he moved the piece of plastic and revealed the check-out receipt, all of his sister’s bickering moved to the background.

There, beneath the date and time of his visit, was your number, scribbled in blue ink with a small heart by your name. He smiled to himself as he traced the number with his finger. And just then, Enola glanced over his shoulder to find out why he hadn't told her to shut up yet.

Who would have thought that you would be hooked after a line like that?

Tags: @circe143 @valkyrie418 @mirikusashes @noideawhyimdoingthislol @nikkitc0703 @lethallyprotected @erynnnn @misshale21 @wattpaduser200 @mi-amoree1111 @xxinvisiblexx @lastwandastan @when-you-cant-think-of-anything @pevensiemadness @mrsgweasley

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izpira-se-zlato · 1 month

Text

JO Paris, 22.03.24

Gig report! Compiled this morning in the car to Antwerp with help form @zadig-fate and @yoda-bor 💛 I recorded everything except Katrina (bc my camera app crashed in the middle), so I'll upload this once I'm at a place with stable wifi again :D

all my buses were delayed so I power walked to the train station. Then that train was delayed so I almost missed my Eurostar. Then my Eurostar was also delayed. "That's what I call a Deutsche Bahn special, actually." – Kris ("when your first train is late but then it's okay because the second train is also delayed")

so many people I knew in the queue. From Helsinki. From London last year. From Utrecht. 😊💛

when I grabbed my number, Jan and Nace returned to the venue (and they were so pretty in daylight and in person)

Nace said hi as they walked past 😊

their postures??? Nace has definitely worked on his posture, meanwhile Jan appears so slim and small. It's wild.

Jan and Jure returned to the venue together, looking… Pissed is too harsh a word, but frowning? So we first kinda thought they were actually pissed off. But then Nace showed up a minute later, his usual sunny self, and was immediately accosted by fans. So. I assume it was less "pissed off" and more "do not approach" (and it worked)

soundcheck was Gola and Vem da greš, which we could hear every time they opened the doors (this was my last general access gig. It's EA from here on out, baby!)

Kris and I had decided to go on the balcony and got spots right next to the sound booth, where we were joined by @thisismyobsessionnow 🫶

it was warm but the sound was really good (duh)

also we had nice cushy seats like the old people we are 😂

first opener was a duo of brothers made up of discount Jure and Käärijä if he was French. Discount!Jure had a nice chest (Jure at home)

their music was eh, the lyrics cringe

Kris says they spoke french but I spent most of their set on tumblr/discord so I wasn't listening, but it was a Choice since pretty much none from the EA crowd spoke French

speaking of EA, there were allegedly 60 EA tickets though I saw numbers up to 62 (500 people venue)

JC Stewart was fun

he was told he looked French prime minister. He got confused by president vs prime minister but he also got kinda flustered. He was shown a pic and was "oh yeah, I see it"

we got Katrina opener

Nace. Jfc.

the venue was super hot so I tried to appreciate the fit while he had it on in full – white buttoned shirt with a sweater vest over it and a proper tie and glasses, going for the full teacher look except hot???

I still spent a good chunk of the gig looking at Jure though. The elevated balcony spot gave ussuch a nice view of him

Bojan was smiley and sounded way less congested than in Utrecht (maybe he's on the mend?)

Kris on the other hand was sipping tea on stage. In particular very sassily during Demoni

Kris had guitar problems at the beginning of Šta bih ja and went to Kiki to get it fixed but Bojan didn't see and so was actually worried for a moment that Kris had gotten sick off-stage. Kris was adorable in reassuring him that he was fine

they were all so mobile again

og demoni scream. In the middle. Might have been Bojan letting out his anxiety over Kris having disappeared from stage

"Kris, honey" and then that moment. What in the BoKris was that. I just turned to Kris and said that out loud bc what the fuck

There was a sizeable crowd of Slovenians in the audience and Bojan was delighted

fairly even split in the crowd for French vs foreigners, though the French were louder in yelling

the most hilarious to me moment: Bojan did his spiel about "who here experiences panic attacks?" And the crowd cheered, and he was like "yay! Panic attacks! It's me!" And Kris next to me went "I'm the problem, it's me," and literally on the last syllable, Bojan started saying the exact same thing. One brain cell. Or maybe he has the stream on his in-ears

Barve oceana 🫶🫶💛💛

according to Astrid, I looked ridiculously happy (I was ridiculously happy)

best galaxy of me version tonight. I still don't like it though 😂 it's gonna be my metulji 😂

Bojan went into the crowd for Umazane misli

it's so fun to watch from above

Vita was his trusty shadow and also a beacon of light to spot Bojan with

this time I don't think they forgot her in the crowd

Bojan made the balcony sing while he was still in the crowd. But it was mostly just Kris, Madeleine, and me, at least on the bleachers/seated part. We still gave our best 😂

Carpe Diem was not part of their "encore" but came before

no Tokio :( might be the first show without it?

fucking Novi val

the way Jure jumped up and sprinted to trade a drumstick for a baguette, it was so hilarious

he was so happy, and he first made fun of Nace for being unable to eat it

he shared it with Jan

Jan got chocolate and they put it into the baguette and then shared it.

Jure let everyone else also take a bite, including Bojan who was ostensibly singing

Nace bottle feeding Kris. What the fuck. Can someone make sure they still don't know about AO3?

no Umazane shenanigans even though Jan and Nace had talked right before it so I'd been hopeful

so many um versions in other langauges. It wasn't the longest rendition, but we also

when Bojan said we'd get the original Slovene version, I thought it would be the one he made up on the spot when they went on stage to play it all the way back? When they were babies. So it was a small disappointment when it was just the regular Slovene version 😂

Bojan asked the Slovenians if they were able to tell that they weren't playing at home and they said no and Bojan was so so delighted

he's also given the mic to people in the audience outside of Umazane misli (ne bi smel and plastika, I want to say)

he sang galaxy of me with a guy from the front row (Josh?)

not a lot of Jance, possibly because they were looking after Kris?

still a lot of eye contact

or maybe it was the fact that they apparently were out in Paris together in the afternoon 😏

my phone was so hot by the end (and I have 4gb left of memory)

after the gig I couldn't find my hat so I was worried I'd left it, so I went back in. Which was how I got JC and Vita to sign my gig memory book

I had forgotten about wanting to grab Vita's signature so if Astrid hadn't reminded me, I would have missed out

the boys got JC Stewart sick, he said his voice was going

It was raining so the boys ran out of the venue towards a van while we cheered. Bojan took a group selfie

Jan and Jure left first with the crew in that van so we assume that the others took a second car

#joker out #jan peteh #nace jordan #kris gustin #bojan cvjeticanin #jure macek #jure maček #kris guštin #bojan cvjetićanin #nace ja jan #bojan ja kris #gig report #my gig footage

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crljhnn · 1 year

Text

Gareths totally real girlfriend

Pairing: Gareth Emerson x fem!Reader

Summary: Gareth and you are in a long-distance relationship, meeting for the first time since getting together. While he is excited, his friends doubt whether you are real or not.

No physical description; No use of y/n

Word count: 2k

Warnings: None really, just a bit of making out but no actual smut

[Also posted on AO3 - pseud: 04814]

“Ohh Gareth is blushing!” “Aww are you talking to your girlfriend again?” “He is in love” his younger sisters are giggling, dancing around Gareth who is currently sitting on the kitchen counter, telephone in hand.

“He just can’t help himself, she is just so pretty!” “And smart” “and talented” with high-pitched voices they are mocking the way their older brother is regularly fawning over you, while overly batting their eyelashes.

“They are growing up so fast!” His oldest sister is dramatically wiping away fake tears.

“You’re literally five years younger than me, what do you mean?”

“Actually I’m only four and a half years younger than you, so you’re wrong!”

Gareth is about to tell her that that is basically the same when he gets distracted by your laugh coming through the phone. “I can’t wait to finally meet your sisters!”

He grins “Ohh so that is the real reason why you finally decided to come and visit me. I can’t believe it, my dearest girlfriend is only dating me because of my siblings.”

“Don’t be silly!” He can hear the grin in your voice “We both know that it’s actually your hair that wooed me, but I guess your personality and you as a person in general are alright as well.”

“Haha very funny. I think you guys meeting will probably be the death of me.”

“What a great way to die.” those are the last words his youngest sister says before she grabs the older one and pulls her out of the room.

Gareth and you met at a concert a few months ago and instantly hit it off. After finding out that you both drove about two hours to the concert, coming from opposite directions, you exchanged numbers and promised each other to at least call every once in a while. Planning to attend the next good concert, that’s somewhat nearby, together.

Well, looking back on it now you might have overdone the whole staying in touch thing a little bit, not that you’re complaining! You and Gareth had great chemistry from the start and easily spent multiple hours talking on the phone every day. Considering that, and the way you both have been quite smiley ever since coming back from the concert, none of your family members were surprised when you announced your relationship.

You both have been itching to meet in person again, which is why you decided that the first longer trip you are gonna make with your first own car that you just got for your eighteenth birthday, is going to be to Hawkins. Gareth was over the moon, hearing this news, having himself begged his mom at least a thousand times to let him borrow her car over the weekend, to make his way over to your city.

“It’s getting late, I think I should head to bed, after all, I have a long drive planned tomorrow.”

It’s Thursday afternoon right now, tomorrow around this time you are gonna be lying in your boyfriend's arms. You already have everything packed and safely stored in your trunk, planning to drive over directly after school in hopes of arriving during the early evening.

“Okay, I’m really looking forward to tomorrow. Please drive safely, good night sweetheart.”

“Good night babes, see you tomorrow.”

He nearly has a heart attack when he hears his sister speaking up next to him “Aww he called her sweetheart, how adorable.” She giggles.

“Shouldn’t you be in bed?”

“Shouldn’t you be taller?”

—

The next day Gareth is up nearly an hour earlier than normal, being way too excited to even think straight. His giddiness follows him through the day confusing the Hellfire guys immensely. This is not how he normally responded to being at school.

“Okay, what’s up with you?” Eddie is the one to finally break the silence when they are all sitting at their lunch table “You’ve been acting weird all day!”

“Oh my girlfrie-” he is not able to finish his sentence before he gets interrupted by Jeff “Ohhh your totally real girlfriend that coincidentally lives super far away.” The boys laugh “You know we are all single, no need to make up lies to-” one of the other Hellfire boys speaks up just to end up getting interrupted as well. And that by no other than one of the freshmen “Not all of us are single, we’re not!”.

Damn.

“Well,” Gareth, being fed up with his friends not believing that he could possibly be in a relationship, abruptly stands up “Actually, she is visiting this weekend so if you come over you can finally meet my in fact very real girlfriend.” With that he storms out of the cafeteria, leaving his tray behind for the others to clean up.

—

His angry mood doesn’t stick, but his good mood doesn't return either. Is it really so unlikely for him to have a girlfriend? Is it so unrealistic that a girl could be attracted to him? He always thought that you were out of his league, but before now it never worried him or made him feel insecure. Quite the opposite actually, he was always proud that he was able to score a girl like you.

But what if you remembered him in an idealized kind of way? Would you be disappointed after seeing him in the flesh again? Would it be awkward? What if you decided that he wasn’t what you expected and just broke up with him?

His spiraling was interrupted when his house came into view, with a car parked in front of it, which exactly matched the description you had excitedly given him a few days ago talking about your newest possession. Is he starting to imagine things now? You shouldn’t be arriving until way later in the day.

When he opens the front door he is greeted with the view of you and his mom, giggling and drinking tea at the kitchen table, something suspiciously looking like a photo album lying in front of you. The noise of the closing door notifies both of you of his presence making you simultaneously look up.

“Hi”

He is still frozen at the door. You stand up, cross the room and meet him at the door, embracing him in a hug as soon as he is within reachable distance. Coming back to earth he quickly returns it.

“Hey”

“You’re early.” It comes out more like a statement than a question. His tone made you fear that you crossed a boundary or upset him, slightly pulling back from the hug to look at his face “Yes, is that okay?”

“YES! Sorry! I mean yeah that’s totally cool, I’m just surprised. How did you get here so early?”

You grin sheepishly “I might or might not have skipped school today. But I wouldn't have been able to focus either way because I was way too excited” you reason.

“You’re lucky that it was my day off today or you would be sitting on the porch right now” his mother's amused tone pulled you out of your little daze, finally completely pulling out of the hug “I probably should be concerned about you being a bad influence on my son by skipping school, but it looks like he himself isn’t really taking his attendance that serious either.”

Shit.

“However,” you and Gareth share a slightly anxious look “I'm gonna make an exception and let that slide today, but don't make skipping a habit. We don't want your academics to suffer, right?” Gareth groans, mumbling something about her embarrassing him under his breath.

You on the other side let out a breath you didn't knew you were holding in. You didn’t even think twice about what impression you would leave, when you show up for the first time meeting your boyfriend's mom, proudly proclaiming that you just skipped school.

She grabs her bag and turns to you. “I'm going grocery shopping, anything I should bring honey?” You both simultaneously shake your head. “I wasn't talking to you Gareth, you just skipped school, I may not punish you, but I’m sure as hell aren’t rewarding you either!”

“But she skipped too, why are you asking her then?”

Geez thanks.

“Well SHE is not my child to raise and SHE is also a guest, if you excuse me now, I want to be at the shop before all the good fruits and vegetables are gone.” With that the door closes behind her, resulting in you two being alone now.

“Hi” 'Wow smart thing to say, if she doesn’t already think that you are a total loser she sure does now.'

Instead of laughing at him as he expected, you smile.

“Hi! Wanna show me your room?”

—

Back at Hawkins High, the Hellfire Club is still sitting at their table.

“Wasn’t that a bit much? He seemed genuinely hurt.” Dustin, always the sweetheart, speaks up. “Yeah, I feel bad now too” agreement follows from the others.

“Do you really think that his girlfriend isn’t real?” Mike asks Eddie

“I mean I was suspicious before, but this kind of sold the deal, right? If he had a girlfriend, why would he react like that?” The others nod at their ‘leaders‘ reasoning.

Dustin decides to speak up again in hopes of making them see the said things from Gareth's perspective “I mean you sort of implied that it's extremely unlikely for a woman to want him”

Eddie looks offended “Come on now, that’s not what I said or meant and you know that.”

“Yeah, I know that, but does Gareth?”

“Okay, you know what, I'm gonna drive over and apologize. Then I'm telling him that it’s no biggy that he lied about having a girlfriend and we will all just forget about it. Yay happy ending, driving into the sunset together with our hair flowing in the wind.”

“Fine man, but Im coming with you,” Jeff says “Not the whole sunset thing, but I think I have to apologize too.” And with that, they both make their way to Eddies van to drive over to Gareths.

—

Gareth on the other hand has long forgotten about their ‘fight’ at lunch, being a lot more focused on the way his girlfriends' lips feel. He still can’t believe that he finally has you here, in his house, in his room, in his bed. That he can hug, touch and kiss you. He slowly pushes you down, laying part of his body weight on you to get closer, while your hands find their way under his shirt.

—

Eddie and Jeff have now arrived at their destination, ringing the doorbell a few times.

Nothing.

“He must still be mad, let's get in through the garage, they never lock it.” Eddie proposes.

—

“There is someone at the door” you break the kiss

“Yeah, I heard.” Gareth only takes a second to respond before instantly chasing your lips again.

“You don’t want to open?”

“Nah, whoever it is is gonna survive, I have more important matters to attend to.” You giggle, making your boyfriend aware of how smitten he is again.

—

The two boys have successfully entered the house and are now walking up the stairs, Eddie already talking the apology, that he and Jeff came up with on their way here, through in his head, being so deep in thought, he doesn’t even consider knocking before he opens the door, well more like slams the door open.

The first thing he hears is a shriek that sounds suspiciously like it came from a girl. The next sound is clearly Gareths voice.

“What the fuck dude, ever heard of knocking? Get the fuck out!” With that, he is pushed out of the room by a shirtless Gareth. Neither he nor Jeff has a chance to say anything before Gareth is slamming the door in their faces.

“Damn, maybe he wasn’t lying.”

“Good for him, good for him.”

#gareth emerson x reader #gareth emerson #gareth emerson x y/n #gareth emerson x you #gareth the great #gareth stranger things #fem!reader #stranger things #fluff #established relationship #oneshot #x reader #fanfic #gareth has two younger sisters because I said so #no use of y/n

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hatkuu · 5 months

Text

kylar killing someone for you...

gen! kylar and gen! reader drabble utc. (horror, descriptions of a dead body, disturbing basic kylar stuff but w/ a sprinkle of murder, kidnapping, general yandere behaviour)

It happens to a love interest Kylar can't stand seeing you with. They can't stand it so much, that they're removing them from the equation entirely.

At first you'll think: Hmm... Kylar's been a bit overly twitchy and openly happy lately - which to your unknowing self, is very cute at first! They're all smiley and blushy, touching you constantly without a hint of anxiousness, pressing kisses all over your hands in nigh worship, and constantly loudly exclaiming your love for one another to every passerby that they can!

Then you'll notice it.

You'll notice the lack of light in Kylar's eyes. You'll notice the cold, calculating expression they hold whenever you talk about anyone other than them. You'll notice they way one hand is immediately stuffed into their pocket as soon as someone begins to approach you. You'll notice the way that all of the self-care methods you taught them have been long forgotten. It's not just at school, either. It's everywhere. Even in their own home, their supposed safe haven. You'll still see the haunting reality even as you so desperately wish to will it away. You'll notice the horrible, pungent smell bubbling up from the basement, a deep aching one that lingers at the back of your throat, never truly leaving until curiousity gets the better of you and while Kylar's asleep you push open the basement door, stepping down each groaning, wood-rotted step until you're violently assaulted by the nose-crinkling, acrid smell of death.

They're barely recognisable. A decayed, fleshy lump of their former self that you barely recognise.

You hear the basement door slam from behind. The polished concrete floor of the basement gets so much colder from just a sound. The soles of your feet ache, throbbing from a phantom hypothermia. The aching sensation spreads, from toe to cheek, pulsating with each padded footstep down the basement stairs. A repetitive, familiar sound, and a presence that you know came with it.

"M-My love? W-What are you doing down here? Did you get lost?"

You can't help the panicked yelp that slips out as Kylar places a much-too-calm hand on your shoulder, coaxing you to turn around to face them.

"You know you can't wander a-around here too much-- my parents--"

Then they pause. They scan your expression, brows furrowing in realisation that you're scared. You're shaking underneath their palm and your eyes are flickering between their face and the stairs. They remember the corpse that's rotting on the floor of the basement behind you. You must be worried. Worried that they're going to do the same to you (They never would-- nevernevernevernever--). You want to leave. You want to leave them and they won't let that happen.

"I brought you some food, m-my love!"

He slices the fruit with the same knife, a deadly precision that cuts neat little geometrical shapes. You don't open your mouth anymore.

"Soon, I won't have to worry about a-anyone else and it'll just be y-you and I..."

Kylar presses a slice against your lips, pushing past the barrier until it rests heavy on your tongue. They know now to cut each slice thin enough so you don't choke.

Your eyes don't leave the permanently stained concrete. It's a rusty sort of colour that's remained even as you watched Kylar scrub the remnants of your once friend away with a two-to-one ratio of bleach and water.

Kylar giggles happily, head falling forward onto your shoulder as they clutch onto your body.

"You're mine. Mine and it makes me so happy! Noone else is left who dares to say otherwise! You'll be my spouse and I'll take care of you,"

He smiles against your bare shoulder, kissing the flesh with his teeth before he continues.

"I'll keep you down here long enough for you to love me back l-like you did before. I-It's okay. I'll wait. Even if you s-say you hate me."

You want to feel bad - this was your lover, or is, in Kylar's eyes - but you can't. You do hate them. No amount of kisses and promises of a married future together can bring your long-dead friends back. Most of the time though, you don't speak. Which is worse.

With a defeated, heartbroken sigh, Kylar pulls back to face you, eyes wet with tears that don't fall.

"Why do you hate me? I did it for you - a-and we were so in love before you found them s-so why--"

Kylar gasps, stumbling over their words and mumbling incoherently as they come to their own realisation without any of your input.

They lurch forward, pushing you onto your back with wild eyes and a furious, ghastly expression.

"Is there someone else you're not telling me about, my love?"

#kylar the loner #hatkuurambles #dol kylar #dol #kylar x reader #kylar #guys look hatkuu's writing again!!!#wow....#yeah. ask me about them ill go on for hours.#!!!!!#kuuskylarposting

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two-red-lungs · 2 years

Text

All Soft Inside

(Eddie Munson x Reader Hurt/Comfort)

Fic Song Inspo: X

It was a foot-dragging day. A day where nothing was right: where the sunlight was too harsh on the eyes, where the toast stayed in too long and got burned, where the car battery died and the vending machine was out of your favorite drink.

Yesterday had been a foot-dragging day too. And the day before that. Kind of a chain sort of thing.

Hours just... ticked on. And time drained you. A battery, out in the cold. You smiled and nodded at people, sure, helped customers and rang up supplies, but you felt dead-eyed. Dead in general.

Hawkins felt unfriendly. You’d been feeling that for a while.

You glanced up at the blue sky, sitting up against the brick wall in the alley on your smoke break. God, you felt hollow. Not even that clear, surreal and flawless cerulean was perking you up.

You closed the shop. You locked up.

You drove home.

You parked.

And then the oppressive, wet blanket of nothingness that had draped over the world lifted a little, because leaning against the front of his beat-to-shit van, arms folded over his chest, was Eddie fucking Munson. Your dealer. Your casual friend.

He lifted a hand and wiggled his fingers at you as you got out of the driver’s seat. And, god. God. You shook your head and laughed incredulously. How anyone could be afraid of him, or hate him, you’d never know.

How could Hawkins fear something so beautiful?

The descending sun cut soft shadows across his face, skin turned gold and pink. His hair waterfalled in dry, manic waves, cupping that oval face, cascading over his beat-up-leather-clad shoulders. He was all legs. Legs, and arms, and fingers.

“And so the breadwinner returns.” He said loudly, a smile crawling onto his wide lips when you walked up to him. “Finish up your nine to five, Dolly?”

“Why are you here, Eddie?” You asked, a hand on your hip. There were a lot of thoughts in your mind: how tired you were. How you’d exchanged a drunken kiss at a house party two months ago and hadn’t discussed it since. How rotten you felt right now. How you didn’t want that to spill over onto this... this ray of fucking human sunshine.

He scratched at the side of his nose awkwardly, rings glinting in the fading light. “Well. Y’know. I was in the neighborhood, thought I should check in.”

“Yeah.” You breathed through your nose and shoved your hands into your pockets. Of course. “Can’t afford to lose a valuable customer, right?”

“No, no.” He said quickly. Licking his lips. A nervous habit. “That’s not... I mean, if you wanna buy, if course, I’m here. For, uh. For that. But I just wanted if you were, uh... doing alright?”

You gave him a deadpan stare.

He shifted awkwardly under it, but doubled down. “I mean, pardon my french, princess. But you’ve been acting kind of fucking miserable lately. And you missed, like, our last two scheduled drops. So. What the hell is up with that, hmm?” He clapped his hands together like he’d won an argument.

He’d hit you right where it hurt. Somehow managed to jab an accusing finger right into your bruise: pinning you, just with glances and passive observations. It stung. You wanted to be reactive. It was scary. Being... seen, so transparently like that.

“Huh.” You spat out defensively. “Gee. I didn’t know that was any of your business. But you’re sure acting like it is, aren’t you?

“Jesus. Someone’s touchy.”

“I’m not touchy, Munson. You just... showed up where I live, unannounced. All because, what, you’re worried about me?”

“Yeah.” He said bluntly. Your words had lacerated him, you could tell. But he was holding firm under the flames of the dragon. “Yeah. I am.”

How long had it been since someone had said that to you?

You were gonna spill over. A barrel, under pressure, staves cracking. Bands threatening to give way. And you didn’t want to give way, not in front of him. Not when he was so smiley, and jokey, and always made you cackle-snort when you shared a joint with him. It was selfish: you had been using Eddie as your own personal sun. You couldn’t bear the thought of extinguishing it.

You swallowed the rising knot in your throat, tight and hard as a stone. Shifted your eyes away from his because fuck, now they were hot with tears. This was stupid. You were too emotional. You had to calm down.

“Hey.” In the corner of your vision, Eddie took a half-step towards you, scuffed white shoes scraping across concrete. “...You okay? Hello?”

And you looked up at him. And Eddie’s big, beautiful, bambi eyes went wide.

“Oh, whoa, hey. Don’t cry. Please don’t cry.”

He started to babble in that soothing, rambling way of his, rough voice going up an octave in concern, and you decided fuck it. Fuck it, fuck it, fuck it. He was here. So were you. And you were hurting.

Tears of frustration spilled down over your cheeks just as you stepped forward, snaked your arms under his heavy jacket-padded ones, and hugged him. Clung to him like he was a personal heater, feeling his solid, soft core against your frame. Pressing your forehead stubbornly against his chest so you didn’t have to look him in the eye.

Eddie froze. He froze for three long, agonizing seconds.

And then he hugged you back.

Long, lanky, strong arms settled around you, curling across your back, and then they pulled you tight to him. Tight enough to make your ribs creak. A bear of a hug: wrapping you up in his smell, in cigarette smoke and cheap deodorant and green apple shampoo.

The kind of hug that healed.

The kind of hug you had, apparently, been desperately craving for days. His weight against you. His long hair tickling you. And more than anything, his heartbeat: the low lub-dub of that ticker, and the slow expansion of his ribcage against yours with each breath.

“...You’re alright, princess.” His words rumbled in his chest when he spoke. Tentatively. Like he didn’t quite believe this was real. A broad, calloused hand came up to the back of your head. Petting it. “You’re alright.”

“...It’s been kind of a rough week.” You eked out eventually.

That got a dry laugh from him. “Yeah, no shit, I can tell.” When you pulled away, uncomfortable and awkward, he took you in with that dark gaze of his. Eddie jerked over his shoulder with a thumb at his van. “I, uh. I have some pre-rolls, if you. You know. Wanna talk about it, or something. No charge.”

There he was. Eddie goddamn Munson. Human teddy bear. Obscuring his sweetness under black band tees and pot smoke. Hiding it away from the world, but giving it so fucking freely.

When you met his eye with a watery smile, he smiled back. “Yeah, Munson.” You agreed. “I think I’d like that.”

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson #stranger things s4 #stranger things imagine #my writing #i simply wish to hug him........

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vintagepresley · 1 year

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I'm virgin, so maybe this request is kinda personal, but could you write one with elvis taking y/n's virginity and being very gentle and romantic and kinda dirty, like with lots of dirty talking? 🥹 also i have strong hand kink, just fyi 🤭

thank you and i will love you forever 🥹❤️ (just kidding, i already love you)

Thank you for the request and I love you too! ☺️❤️

Elvis was completely taken with you and had been for months since you started dating so much so that every night he'd try to make a move on you. You were a virgin and had told him you weren't ready yet. He was very respectful of that but some nights when the two of you would do a little bit of touching and kissing he'd find himself getting a bit carried away and trying to push things further, but would quickly be stopped when you told him no. Another part of you just wanted to jump his bones most nights, but you had to be sure that you were ready. You wanted it to be special because he was special to you and you were more than willing to give yourself to him if the timing was right. So most nights the two of you would lay in bed curled up next to one another and you'd play with his hands until you fell asleep.

Elvis was determined to do something quite romantic for you so he sent you to have a little shopping day with your friends. He wanted to do something special and since he was in such a giving and generous mood, he wanted to remind you of just how much he loved you and how much he wanted to show you that he loved you. He managed to get the guys to leave the house for a few hours just wanting the place quiet and to yourselves when you returned. He gotten Mary to cook up some of your favorite foods and once she had done so he sent her on her way a little earlier than usual, but didn't let it go unknown how grateful he was to her for cooking everything he asked for on such short notice. She offered to set the table but he wanted to do all of that himself, he felt it would be more romantic. He didn't have a clue on how to set a table properly but did his best feeling satisfied with his little set up and he went to put on a bit of music. He checked his watch to see what time it was because you had told him when you'd be back and so he waited patiently for you by the door as he was excited to share a romantic evening for you.

You'd been out to brunch and some shopping with a few of your friends which Elvis insisted that you do, he had been in such good mood lately and just doing the most for everyone. You were just happy to see him happy. You reminded your friends that you needed to get back because you had told Elvis what time you'd be home, so you all finished up what you were doing and they began to head back to drop you off at Graceland where you were going to get a surprised from that loving man of yours waiting for you like a little puppy by the door. He peeked through one of the windows and saw a car driving up the driveway and he smiled warmly to himself. You said your goodbyes as you gathered your things and headed inside and you were met almost immediately by a smiley Elvis and the sound of the music playing in the background. "Hi, little one!" he beamed. He nearly scared you as you jumped a bit. You playfully hit him with one of your bags with a soft giggle emitting from your lips. "Daddy! What are you doing standing there like that?! You scared me." you laughed.

"I was waitin' on ya, little." he smiled as he reached over to take your bags and sitting them by the steps and he walked over to slip his arms around your waist, kissing the tip of your nose. "How was your lil' shoppin' trip?" he grinned. You nuzzled your nose up against his as you arms draped over his shoulders. "It was good. I got you a few things." you smiled widely. "Now didn't I tell ya to get yourself somethin'?" he chuckled. You ran your hands along his broad shoulders and pouted playfully at him. "I did, but I wanted to get you something too." you said softly. He smiled reaching a hand up and resting his index finger beneath your chin and his thumb against it. You captured your bottom lip between your teeth at the feeling of his hand on your face and he leaned down to give your lips a soft kiss. "You're too cute, ya know that?" he mumbled on your lips. "Hush." you said as your face turned bright red. You inhaled sharply smelling something familiar. "Something smells good!" you said with a smile.

"Oh yeah, I got Mary to cook up some stuff for ya. C'mon.." he said as he pulled back and took your hand in his and he squeezed your delicate hand in his strong grasp and he led you into the kitchen. Your face lit up the moment you walked in seeing that he had the table set for two and some candles lit, it was all very romantic. You let out a soft happy sigh as you beamed. "Elvis-" he cut you off for a moment. "I know it's not much, honey. But I thought a quiet dinner at home would be nice." he said with a small smile. You slipped your hand out of his grasp and jumped up throwing your arms around him in a hug. "Don't be silly, it's perfect." you mumbled into his shoulder. He smiled and pulled back and walked over to pull the chair out for you. "Such a gentlemen..." you giggled as you slipped into your seat and then he went over to sit across from you as the two of you began to eat. You slipped off one of your heels and lifted your leg up to brush your foot playfully up against his leg. He looked over at you with an eyebrow raised he felt your food brushing it's way up his leg causing him to smirk.

"Ya keep doin' that baby and I'll be carryin' ya up to the bedroom." he chuckled. You smirked at his words. "Who knows.. You may get lucky tonight." you shrugged with innocent smile on your lips. His eyes widen at your words. "Don't tease daddy like that.." he mumbled with a mouthful of food. You giggled cutely as you continued to play footsies with him under the table and reaching over to rest your hand over his, tracing your fingertips over every curve of his hand. You had such a fascination with his hands, they were beautiful and so strong that the very feel of them on you did things to you. "I'm not teasing you.. I would never.." you cooed. Something had come over you maybe it was his romantic gesture or just the way he looked today, but a part of you was ready to give yourself to him. He cleared his throat as you continued to rub your foot on him and now caressing his hand. "I mean it, little one.. Don't tease me.. Y-Y'know how I feel and what I want." he murmured. You set your fork down and dabbed your napkin against your lips, and as serious as you could sound you said in a soft tone, "Take me upstairs, daddy.." your innocent doe eyes staring at him. He dropped his knife and fork at the sound of yours words and he swallowed harshly.

"A-Are you serious?" he questioned. "Yes. Take me.." you smiled. He stood up so fast he nearly knocked his chair over and he walked over to you grabbing a hold of your chair and pulling it out and he wrapped his arms around you lifting you up into his arms bridal style, you let out a soft squeal as you wrapped your arms around him, kicking your feet happily as he carried you upstairs, almost tripping over your shopping bags, you laughed quietly. As the two of you reached the bedroom he pushed the door open with his foot and carried you inside, gently setting you down as he went to shut the door. He came back over ready to pounce on you but you stopped him. "Be gentle.. I want you to make love to me." you whispered. He reached his hands up taking your face in his hands, leaning up to press a soft kiss to your lips, you placed your hands over top of his. "Course, baby, daddy'll be very gentle with ya." he mumbled softly. You took a deep breath a bit nervous, but trusting him. His blue eyes stared so sleepily at you as they had you in almost a trance from how beautiful they were he always gave you butterflies from the way those eyes of his looked at you with so much love.

He lips hovering about yours and you slowly closed your eyes as you felt his lips press against yours once again but in a deeper more passionate kiss, the pads of his thumbs brushing up against your cheeks as you kissed him back deeply, wanting to just devour his soft lips, his hands lingered down to slowly run up and down the sides of your body, a soft noise escaping you against his lips as you felt his hands squeezing at your waist and then you felt his gentle hands moving up your back and tugging at the zipper of your dress before he slowly unzipped it and then he was tugging it down your body until it landed on the floor, his eyes glancing down at your almost naked body. "My pretty little girl.." he mumbled. You blushed and your body shivered feeling his hands over your bare skin, lightly caressing you. You ran your hands over his chest and played with the buttons on his shirt before you slowly began to undo them revealing his chest and you ran your fingers through his light chest hair as he slipped his shirt off and threw it on the floor.

He grabbed your hips and ran his hands over the delicate fabric of your panties and then along your stomach and over your bra, reaching around carefully to unclasp it and then he slowly removed it, licking over his lips at the sight of your perky breasts and the chill from his room causing your nipples to get hard, he wanted nothing more than to latch onto one of them and the sight giving him a semi hard on. "Get on the bed, baby." he mumbled. You nodded at his words and climbed into bed and laying against his pillows as you got comfortable, watching as he began to unbuckle his belt and you watched with eagerness as he slide his pants off and you were caught off guard by the sight of his cock, biting down on your bottom lip and he walked over to the bed, climbing into it and on top of you. The weight of him on top of you only making you pull him down closer, feeling his cock pressed right up against your panties. "You promise to be gentle.." you asked softly. "I promise my sweet girl.." he hummed, brushing a hand against your face. "Don't ya trust your daddy?" he whispered as he pressed kisses. "Yes I do.." you cooed.

His continued to brush along your face as he lips kissed along your jawline. "I'm gonna be so gentle takin' that virginity of yours.. Will ya be a good girl and let daddy cum inside ya? Make ya mine.." you hummed. Y-Yes daddy.." his words were making you so wet you could feel your pussy sticking to your panties, he kissed down your neck with sloppy and wet kisses that when he reached your breasts you could feel the warm saliva that had gathered in his mouth drip onto your left nipple when he wrapped his lips around it, causing you to let out a soft whimper. He stared up at you and released the sensitive little bud from his mouth. "Mm, let daddy hear some more of those pretty lil noises.." he mumbled before wrapping his lips back around your nipple sucking hard and nearly sucking your nipple raw from how intense he was sucking another soft whimper escaping you followed by a moan as you squirmed beneath him. He ran one of his hands down your abdomen and down toward your panties, rubbing the front of them slowly as and he smirked a bit around your nipple when he felt how wet you already were, you let out a soft airy moan when you felt his hands rubbing against your pussy causing you to make your panties more of a mess.

He was still sucking away at your nipple as saliva dripped from his mouth onto your breasts and then he popped your nipple out of his mouth with a grin, kissing down your abdomen he was being so gentle, so romantic yet so dirty at the same time, it was doing things to you. "Baby made a little mess.." he hummed as he stared up at you. You nodded your head slowly. "It's daddy's fault.." you mewled. He grinned hooking his fingers between the hem of your panties and he slowly pulled at them watching as your pussy became unglued from your slick covered panties and once he got them off he tossed them to the side, his eyes widening at the sight of your pussy. "Fuck.. That pussy is so pretty and wet for me.." he whispered. You giggled and doing your best to not come completely undone. One of his big hands gently rubbing over your stomach and just the very touch of his hand brought full body chills. He grabbed a hold of your legs spreading them further apart so he could get an eyeful of your pussy, licking over his lips as he brought two fingers up to slip between your soaking folds and running it up and down your slit and his fingers coated in your slick, soft cute whimpers escaping you. "Goddamn.. I can't wait to get my cock inside ya, feeling that pussy 'round me.." he hummed.

"But first daddy needs a taste.." he smirked as he pressed kisses along both of your thighs until he reached just where he wanted to be, he pressed several soft kisses against your pussy, letting his lips linger as he became glossy from your slick. You grasped the bed sheets beneath you just ever so slightly. His eyes staring up at you intensely as he slipped his tongue between your folds, licking up your slick slowly that it caused you inhale sharply and curl your toes a bit as you let out a high pitched whine as your body jolted. He place his hand against your stomach to still your movements as he flicked his tongue against your clit and circled around it before wrapping his mouth around the swollen bud, grasping your thigh in with his other hand as he sucked slowly on your clit as his tongue brushed firmly against it. You now began to moan loudly, tilting your head back against the pillows as you reached down to grasp onto his hair and tugged lightly at his raven hair. He began suck on your clit faster as his mouth tighten around it and his saliva pooling from his mouth and dripping down your pussy mixing with your sweet juices as he groaned against you, it caused you to squeeze your thighs around him just a bit.

He slowly released your clit and glanced up at you with a smirk. "Be a good girl for me now and relax.. Daddy's gonna try to open this pussy up a bit.." he whispered. You felt his fingers on your pussy again but now circling around your entrance as his mouth found its way back around your clit, sucking at a steady pace and sending you back into total bliss and feeling one of his fingers teasing your tight hole and inching it slowly inside of you and you clenched around him a bit letting out a soft whine between your cute loud moans, he pushed his finger further inside of you feeling you pulsing, clenching around him. A soft hiss escaping your lips when you felt him suddenly slip in another finger carefully, doing his best to be gentle but you were so tight he had to force his finger inside. He lifted his head up to speak. "That's it, mama.. Open up for daddy.. I want ya ready for this cock." he hummed, he tried to get his fingers in until they disappeared, but you were still too tight so he began to pump them inside of you slowly feeling you stretching out just a bit around him his fingers, your moans growing louder and your eyes rolled back as you arched your back against the bed, your mouth in an O shape, he managed to get his fingers all the way inside.

"Good girl.. You'll get daddy's cock as a nice little reward.." he mumbled as a sly smirk formed on his lips and he gathered a good amount of saliva in his mouth and spit onto his fingers that move in and out of you and using the spit as extra lube along with your slick as he pumped his fingers faster inside of you, feeling you become more relax and comfortable. "Fuck.." he growled. His cock was throbbing, screaming to be inside of you, slipped his fingers out of you and they were covered in your own mess and some of his spit and climbed back on top of you and brought his fingers up to your mouth and you slowly parted your lips as you sucked everything off his fingers, your eyes staring at him innocently and you swallowed harshly, as you stared at his hand a part of you wanting him to wrap it around your throat the way he had it tightly wrapped around your tight. He pulled his fingers out of your mouth with a wide smirk. "How's it taste, little one?" he grinned. "G-Good..." you said softly surprised you were able to say anything.

He pressed himself up against you and he moved his hips up against you, his cock hitting right up against your trembling pussy, you desperately wanted him inside of you. "F-Fuck me, please.." you begged. He chuckled softly, kissing your soft lips with a wide smile. "Don't ya worry, darlin'.. I am.." he whispered as he reached down to grab his cock and running it along your soaking pussy, your body jolted and your hands slipping around his torso and grasping gently at his back, whimpering softly. He slapped his cock gently against your clit and then lined his cock with your entrance and you braced yourself for whatever pain was bound to come and your nails were already digging into his back when you felt the head of his cock pushing it's way into you and he let out a loud groan and you shut your eyes tight, pursing your lips together from the stinging pain you felt and he stopped for a moment. "Is this okay, little? Want me to stop?" he asked. "N-No, please, no.." you whined. He nodded and continued to force his cock inside of you feeling you clench around him and suck him in and he let out a shaky groan. "G-Godamm mama.. So fucking tight.." he moaned. You let out a whimpering cry as you breathed heavily feeling him force his cock in further until he broke through and managed to stretch you out just enough for you to feel every inch of his throbbing cock.

You let out small hiss under your breath as your nails clawed at him once he started pumping his hips against yours and thrusting his cock inside of you at a slow and steady pace until he was able to get you stretched out around him, the pain you were feeling was slowly turning to pleasure as he bottomed out inside of you, his chest pressed firmly against yours as his groans came out low and long and his hands clutching onto the pillow beneath you. You reached over for one of his hands and hesitantly wrapping it around your throat. You loved his hands so much and had always daydream of what they would feel like wrapped your throat, tightening, squeezing. He raised an eyebrow when he saw what you were doing and he smirked, grabbing a hold of your throat in his strong grasp and squeezing just a bit because he still wanted to take it easy on you, a smirk appearing on your lips as you rested your hand on top of his. You body bouncing beneath him as he plowed into you and each thrust stretching you out and allowing him to pick up the pace and slam inside of you, your moans growing louder as his name left your lips so seductively, almost pornographic with the way you were moaning.

"Atta girl.. Takin' this cock so well for daddy.. Lettin' him break ya in.." he grunted. His filthy words only furthering your arousal, your desperate desires for him. He was breathing heavily and dripping with perspiration as your bodies fueled the fire between the two of you, his hand tighten just a bit more around your throat just enough to get you to stare up at him and now he was staring at you, his eyes piercing with lust and his hair sticking to his forehead. Your legs squeezed around his waist as your toes curled against his ass and you whined and whimpered so cutely. "Daddy.. I-..I'm gonna cum.." you cried. The sounds of your words only did one thing and that was forced him to slam hard against your cervix as he fucked you hard, he was so close to his own orgasm, but he wanted the two of you to cum together. "N-Not yet.. L-Little One..." he groaned. You whined and nearly close to tears from how badly you needed to cum your orgasm burning within your belly. "Daddy please!" you screamed. But before he could even have a chance to respond your climax had hit hard and you came on his cock making such a mess that it throw him right into his own orgasm and his thick warm cum coated your insides white, his hips stirring and bucking against you as he drained his balls completely inside of you, a loud grunting sound escaping him as both your movements came to a slow stop.

You felt completely drained, exhausted it that your body just collapsed against the bed and he collapsed on top of you, his sweaty face buried between your breasts and his breath heavy as you felt his breath against your skin as he reached down to pull his leaking cock out of you and his cum came seeping out of your pussy. His hand unwrapping from around your neck as he slipped his arms around you, nuzzling his face in between your breasts. You smiled as you glanced down at him, running your fingers through his wet hair. He looked so worn out and tired that you couldn't help but giggle. "Looks like daddy needs a nap." you whispered. He chuckled quietly. "Mhm.." he mumbled. You slipped your arms around him not wanting him to climb off you. You wanted him to stay close, you needed him to stay close just for another moment as the two of you relished in the most romantic, loving, passionate, wild and gentle moment the two of you shared.

So sexy and sweet. Enjoy!!

#elvis presley #elvis x reader #elvis x you #elvis x y/n #Elvis smut #elvis fluff #elvis imagine

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pray4byron · 2 months

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I was waiting for an opening as I saw you had match ups available and would love to see who you'd put me with.

Preference for male characters from Hazbin Hotel

About me: You can call me Claire. I'm AFAB she/her, 5'3", panromantic demisexual. I'm Tim Burton pale, brown eyes, messy curly bob brown hair, glasses with glasses chains usually, chubby but strong, dress either romantic gothic feminine or butch cryptidcore, like no in between, never wear make up because sensory hell.

Some type of neurodivergent but not diagnosed specifically. I tend to know a little about a lot of things due to jumping from focus to focus. Queen of Dad jokes, rather blunt since I'm not subtle. Aside from English can speak Latin, some Gaelic, some Spanish, a little bit of Turkish/Arabic, Church Greek and Slavonic, and random phrases in Russian, German, and Italian. I'm ENFP, Ares cabin from PJO if that means anything.

I teach preschool, love children as they're so fun to be around and the possibilities they have ahead are wonderful. I also bake, sew, knit, read tons of books, collect rocks and other nature stuff, tend to the gardens, I sing in my choir, and like to listen to music. Not specific music genres that I care for, more vibes, but been into some Bauhaus lately, along with SJ Tucker and The Dead South.

My faith is important to me, I even am considering pursuing becoming a religious sister at a convent, like a nun.

I do love horror, romantic gothic poetry (Think Poe and the like), analog horror(DOAI, Mandela Catalogue), Dr. Who, bad b movies (think Redletter media level bad), animation in general, HB HH, stuff like that, I read everything and anything so long as the narrative is interesting or the subject is a hyperfixation of mine, such as Religions, Mythology, History relating to late Medieval to Elizabethan, textiles, fantasy, or speculative biology (like thought potato on youtube). I also do dress in character for the Renaissance Festival, people assume I work there as I have season passes for the last 5 years and attend all weekends from open to close.

I tend to be a sweet tooth, love any chocolate, baked goods with richness or chocolate flavors, drink lots of coffee, tea, sweet red wines, mead, rum based cocktails or dark malty beers if we're going alcohol, though I tend to be the driver if I'm going to party somewhere. My giving love language is touch and words, along with acts of service. My receiving love language is words, touch, and gift giving. I love to cook or make gifts for others, usually don't expect it in turn.

I'm loud, maternal, weirdly dark yet wholesome, and able to lift a toilet with my bare hands up two flights of stairs. I tend to talk either like a southern grandma or terminally online weirdo with random swears. When friends have a bad breakup I'm like do you want a hug or does someone have to die?

In relationships I can be very talkative, but also in a sense the less dominant partner. Like, I handle the day to day, but not great at organizing the dates, the stuff like that's more romantic. I'd hope my partner could handle that part. I'm also romantically easily flustered. Like squeaking and burning red in the face from genuine good flirting.

So hope you can find someone right for me, God Bless you dear.

hello claire!! i decided to pair your with…

Lucifer !!

First of, he loves your love of kids, and let’s be real, he probably has a love of kids as well, as much as Charlie is an adult, he would probably eagerly introduce you to her after finding out this tidbit of info

Honestly, to him, you give off very strong, emotional support wifey vibes and honestly he is all in for it haha

Lucifer doesn’t mind that you can be very talkative, infact, he enjoys it.

He tries to make it fairly easy when it comes to planning dates for you, so most of the time, you both just stay in

Also, Luci is definitely someone who gets flustered easily, so you both just end up giddy and smiley at eachothers shy little flirty comments and it’s the most heart warming thing

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rockitmans · 1 year

Note

In case you're still taking numbers: 23. If this is too late, feel free to ignore!

You're not too late! I'm gonna try and do as many of these as I can

23. in relief

from the kiss list / see the rest

Notes: don't be deceived by how this starts it's actually super fluffy I promise 😅

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

Blaine is running late. Usually this wouldn't bother Kurt. He doesn't make it his business to keep close tabs on his roommate, generally speaking. But it does bother him today because:

a) Blaine Anderson, neurotic sweetheart that he is, is almost never late. He plans routes with the sole goal of shaving off thirty seconds of travel time. He has an actual pocket watch for God's sake. And,

b) Kurt has lived in New York for five years now and he has never experienced snow in the city like this.

It's like a celestial being has dumped icing sugar directly over New York. It went from normal grey and slightly miserable looking to the sparkling white of a particularly fantastical Christmas card so fast, that Kurt feels like it happened between breaths. And, to coin a phrase, it's showing no signs of stopping.

The blizzard, because that's all it can be, is billowing across the city in huge icy gusts. The snow continues to fall. Kurt is sure that it's already up to his knee height just from a cursory glance out the window. And Blaine is out there. In that.

Kurt pulls out his phone and quickly taps out a message.

Kurt: Where are you?

His finger hovers over the send. Maybe he's jumping the gun a little. He's not out here trying to be an alarmist for no reason. He adds a smiley face to make it seem more bright and breezy and sends it off.

He marches agitatedly back to the window seat and peers out again, staring at the snow like he can make it stop through sheer willpower. He wants Blaine to be here. With him. Drinking hot cocoa and curled up next to him, watching old movies. Not fighting a storm, outside and alone.

Kurt's phone buzzes and he snatches it up. But it's not Blaine. It's an emergency alert for weather. No fucking kidding. But, worse than that, it's quickly followed by a news flash telling him the trains are now closed and no longer running.

The spool of worry that was just starting to unravel in Kurt's belly, drops and spills, unfurling uncontrollably until he's almost sick with it. He's aware he's barely given Blaine five minutes to answer the text but he starts a call to him anyway. It goes straight to voicemail. He swallows painfully.

He knows he's jumping straight to panic with no real evidence that anything is wrong. But he's received too many devastating phone calls in the last few years alone, to ever believe that things Like That could never happen to People Like Him. That bad things couldn't happen to the people he loves.

Blaine is more than a roommate. They've been together since the dorms at NYU. He's Kurt's best friend, his study buddy, his partner in crime. Kurt needs to know he's ok.

Kurt's phone buzzes again and he scrambles for it, but this time it's his dad.

Dad: Saw the weather alert kiddo. Hope you and Blaine are safe at home and you're stocked up.

Kurt: I'm home. But Blaine isn't back from work yet.

Kurt: I'm worried about him.

Kurt types out the message with the vain hope of a child whose parent is going to magically fix everything. Even though he's way too old for all that.

Dad: Well he's probably just been delayed by the storm. He'll be back any minute. Let's give him ten before we panic. You can always call him.

Kurt doesn't want to admit he's already called and that he doesn't feel particularly soothed by Burt's practicality. So he just sends back a thumbs up.

He calls Blaine again. It goes straight to voicemail. Kurt takes a steadying breath. He's letting the fear fuel him. Maybe all that's happening is that he keeps calling Blaine at the exact same time Blaine is trying to call him. That roommate psychic link they have that means they know exactly what take out food the other person needs in times of crisis is just in full effect. He resolves to wait for a few minutes to see if Blaine will get through.

It's painful. He takes to pacing, staring at the blank screen of his phone. The screen only reflects back his own pale face, mirroring his own stress. He unlocks it again, feeling squashed by his inability to do anything practical. He goes back to his message to Blaine to check the read receipts. It was never even received.

He moves toward the door and grabs his coat before he even knows what he's doing. Some instinctual part of him was really about to march out into a snow storm to… what? Where would he even begin looking for one tiny human in a city of millions. Blaine's probably not even out there. If he has any sense, he's hunkered down with a friend or colleague that lives nearer to his work.

Sensible thinking doesn't curb the growing terror. Kurt just knows that life without Blaine in it, is not a life that he really wants to contemplate, ever, and that's far too big a thought to try and explore right now. Not with his heart trying to claw its way out of his throat.

He slowly puts his coat back on the hook.

And that's exactly when the door opens and Blaine is walking through it, snow in his hair. "Holy hell, it's freezing out there," he says and he sounds so… normal. Cheerful even.

Kurt has to accept that all things considered Blaine is only twenty five minutes late home at most. But seeing him here so suddenly, whole and smiling, makes embarrassing tears spring to his eyes.

Blaine notices that he's standing right by the door and lifts an eyebrow. "What are you doing?"

"Where were you?" Kurt gasps before he can even attempt to act cool.

Blaine looks confused but then he seems to clock Kurt's expression and he softens instantly. "Were you worried? I'm so sorry. They closed the trains so I had to get off at a stop early and walk the rest of the way. Disaster."

"I called you…"

"Ah." Blaine ducks his head and pulls his phone from his pocket. It's spidered with vicious cracks. "Bad day to smash my phone."

Kurt looks from the broken phone to Blaine's face. He's pink from cold and his curls are loose and damp from the melting snow. He's beautiful. He's perfect and alive and he's here and God is he in trouble.

"You idiot," Kurt snaps. "You absolute idiot."

He doesn't even think. Fear and relief mingle into blind action. He grabs these lapels of Blaine's coat and hauls him forward. Straight into a crushing kiss. Blaine drops his phone again.

Kurt feels Blaine's ripple of surprise all the way down his body but then he relaxes and, after a moment, his lips respond under Kurt's. Kurt softens all at once, his mouth gentling and his hands feeling across Blaine's shoulders and back and down his arms, subconsciously checking that he's truly okay.

Blaine moves with him, turning his nose to tuck against Kurt's cheek and it's freezing but Kurt doesn't care. His arms have settled comfortably over Blaine's shoulders and he presses their chests flush, greedy to feel Blaine's responding heartbeat thumping against his.

He kisses Blaine until Blaine's mouth and cheeks are warm again. He kisses Blaine until Blaine's hands have moved to cup Kurt's jaw and neck and the small noise he makes shows it's obvious that he's not just being kind, and humouring Kurt's moment of madness, he's as lost in it as Kurt is. He kisses Blaine because he can't ever imagine stopping. And Kurt thinks oh.

It's Blaine that eventually breaks it, moving back only enough to rest their foreheads together. "Please tell me that wasn't just a 'thank God you're not dead' kiss," he breathes into the space between them. He sounds like he's trying to make a joke but the vulnerability and hopefulness are tangible.

"Not just that," Kurt assures. He feels dizzy and warm. And some things are starting to make a lot of sense. "I um… might be having an epiphany."

Blaine huffs a small laugh, intimate in its closeness. "Took you long enough."

Kurt wants to ask about that but there's too many thoughts crowding for space. "Let me make you a hot drink," Kurt says instead, pressing another soft kiss to Blaine's mouth to show it's not a rejection. Blaine needs to warm up and Kurt needs to de-stress and now is not the moment for life changing conversations. There will be time for all that.

~~~

Later, once Blaine is showered and dressed in dry clothes and Kurt has coaxed him into drinking two cocoas and they're wrapped around each other while they watch Wizard of Oz, Burt texts again.

Dad: I didn't hear anything else so assumed Blaine was safe. But just wanted to double make sure my third son was home.

Kurt smiles. Burt has always adored Blaine since the moment they became roommates in the dorms. Kurt's eyes slide to Blaine. He's resting in the vee of Kurt's spread legs, his back to Kurt's chest, his loose curls tickling Kurt's chin.

Kurt ducks down slightly to press a kiss to Blaine's clothed shoulder and Blaine turns into him, brushing his nose against Kurt's cheek. It feels so natural, being with Blaine like this. Kurt doesn't one hundred percent know what this means for them yet but he does know one thing. He opens the text from his dad back up.

Kurt: Yes. Blaine is home.

#klaine #klaine fic #klaine fanfiction #glee #my fic #the kiss fics #asks #little-escapist

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rogersideup · 1 year

Text

Late Night Talking

Mrs. Rogers

Series Masterlist

Next: The Smiley Sticker

Word Count: 7,843

Summary: Your relationship with the Avengers was a little more than one would call mysterious. Though you were officially appointed to the team, Tony and Pepper were the only ones who knew your real name and have met you in real life. You lived and operated in the compound, the same place most of the team lived yet somehow and some way none of them have ever even bumped into you in common areas... or so they thought.

Warnings: My blog is 18+ only. All minors or blogs without an age in bio will be blocked. Minors DNI.

"Hey pretty baby" Your sultry voice of the team's eyes away from battle soothed Steve's mind as it filled his communication device. "Did you miss me?"

He couldn't help the smile on his face, regardless of being mid battle. You could hear the rumble of his motorcycle engine followed by a few gunfire shots, and you watched the green dot of his location on your monitor screen move quickly, little red dots slacking on his trail.

"Oh I'm always missing you, sweet cheeks. I was starting to wonder when you'd show up to save the day" Steve spoke back, still focused on dodging bullets coming from behind him.

"I'm going to start by saving your life. Take a right" You told him.

He saw a clearing in the dense trees and the path he was on split into two, so he cut his wheel and and took a hard turn. Just as his back wheel made it to the new path, an explosion sounded exactly where he would've been.

"What would I ever do without you?" He asked, really thankful you caught something he didn't.

"Can't have you dying on me yet, Love. Gotta keep you alive long enough to meet you at least once" Your giggle through comms warmed his soul. "Keep riding that path straight through, you'll cross with Nat in about a quarter mile then you guys can make a run for the Jet together"

Your relationship with the Avengers was a little more than one would call mysterious. Though you were officially appointed to the team, Tony and Pepper were the only ones who knew your real name and have met you in real life.

You lived and operated in the compound, the same place most of the team lived yet somehow and some way none of them have ever even bumped into you in common areas... or so they thought. Even if they did they would have no way of knowing other than recognizing your anonymous voice.

Generally, you got along well with all of them, and your skills in hacking into enemy's intelligence saved all of their lives more times than you could count. Though they all tried to make you feel welcome and involved in their social bubble, you never accepted the invites to any post work occasions. Steve desperately wished you would.

The two of you got along like two peas in a pod. With your voice in his ear you guys would rip through missions easy-peasy. The constant banter and persistent flirtatious nicknames started through all of the Avengers listening to how you spoke to each other on comms. All of them insisted that you interacted like a married couple so frequently that you started flirting with Steve as a joke. That joke stuck so well that the only time you guys wouldn't speak to each other with pet names or romantic gestures was in serious situations.

"In order to meet me, you gotta show up" Steve told you.

"Babe, if I ever saw you in real life I think your gorgeousness would melt me into a puddle right on the spot. I gotta keep myself alive too" You were almost too quick and witty for Steve to keep up with, sometimes you even had to give him a few extra moments to formulate a response.

"I'll mop you off the floor?" He offered.

"Then who's going to be around to keep you alive?"

"This is a really slippery slope" He smiled.

He passed by Nat on the bike, so she cut in behind him and followed him straight through.

"Widow is riding your ass, she's just like me" You joked.

"Harharhar" Steve rolled his eyes. "If you want a piece of my ass, you know where I live"

"Wow, you wanna meet me so bad you're offering up America's ass? I feel so special"

"You should, honey, It's reserved just for you."

"Your Jet reservations expire in about a minute. Lay heavy on that pedal for me, Love" Right as you instructed, his little green dot started moving faster. Nat sped up to keep up with him.

"We'll make I-"

"Nuh uh. Dont focus on me, focus on getting on getting out of there safely"

"Awwww, you worried about me?"

"It's kind've my job" You could hear the smile in his voice.

"Almost there"

There was about a minute of nothing but the sound of heavy breathing and motorcycle engines, you watched them move closer and closer as the metaphorical clock counted down.

"And we're on" He informed you, and his location confirmed his statement.

"You got me holding my breath over here, Rogers" You let out a sigh of relief now that you've accomplished your mission of getting all of them rounded up for a speedy escape.

"Couldn't have done it without you, Mrs. Rogers. Thank you" He really was constantly grateful for your guidance.

"Wish you could see him, Smiles. Steve's cheeks are pink" Tony informed you once all of their comms connected into the same channel since they were all in range.

Smiles was the nickname Tony used for you and it kind've just stuck with the team. They could constantly hear the smile in your voice as you spoke to them through the channels, and Tony confirmed that's just how you was in real life too. Constant toothy smiles.

"You know I just ran like 17 miles, right?" Steve rolled his eyes at Tony.

"They weren't pink 'till she called you Love" Nat cut in earning an eruption of giggles from all the Avengers.

"You should've seen my face when he called me Mrs. Rogers. I think i'm giving red roses a run for their money" You added to bare some of Steve's burden.

"Red looks great with your complexion, sweetheart" Tony complemented.

"How about white and blue?" Steve asked Tony, earning her glorious laugh right in all their ears.

"That was a good one." You gave Steve credit where it was due. "Alrighty guys, I gotta go. You all did great. Get home safe, rest up. Love you all"

A variety of different goodbyes and love you's flooded your ears.

"Still coming over for dinner later?" Tony asked. Sometimes he liked to show off that he was the only one who got to know you in real life, so giving them breadcrumbs and hints of your friendship always had them all asking a flood of questions about what you were like in person that he would always refuse to answer.

"Depends, is Pepper going to be there?"

"Yes"

"Then yes. Tones, I'll see you at six. Everyone else, I'll smell ya later." You disconnected the call and ripped the headset off your ears before letting your head fall backwards to take some long, deep breaths. No matter how long you worked this very position, your sever anxiety never let up.

When Tony first recruited you for a position on the Avengers, your immediate response was absolutely not. Never in a million years. But after almost a full year of persistence and boarder-line harassment from Tony, you explained why you could never be an Avenger.

Every ounce of skill you had was clouded by huge, thick fog banks of anxiety. Though most of it was managed through therapy and medication, it still lingered and created an excess amount of discomfort.

The high stakes and celebrity status that came along with being an Avenger would do nothing but heighten that. It would simply kindle the flame and reverse all the work you did to make yourself functional on a daily basis.

Fortunately for you, Tony knew first hand what it was like to have that looming grey cloud. So, he made accommodations.

Private workspaces, anonymity from your colleagues, an apartment in the compound away from the Avengers private living quarters.

After lots of reassurance, you accepted.

And now with over a year and a half under your belt,you were just now starting to feel guilty for your lack of presence around the people you absolutely loved talking to.

You so badly wished that she could join Wanda and Nat for Sunday morning brunch, or go out for flights with Sam. But the worst of all, you felt like your heart was being ripped out every time Steve practically begged to meet you.

Every time you thought you were making progress towards introducing yourself to them in person, you would see one of them in passing and immediately feel a weight in your chest and your head would spin.

At this point, you felt like they all had romanticized your anonymity so much that you would be nothing but a disappointment to them. In their heads, they probably imagined a supermodel in a spandex suit and a cape. Maybe perfectly outgoing with a flirty demeanor, an extrovert who only denied time with them for lack of interest.

In your mind, you didn't fit the bill of what an Avenger typically was. When it came down to it, you were a sensitive, introverted soul. Most of your time away from work was spent on whatever special interest would provide a creative outlet, and binging movies with your friend who worked in the compound IT department. Though you were physically strong and had stamina, you certainly didn't have the superhero physique. Soft and squishy around the edges was a good compromise for yourself, you could never imagine devoting her whole life to maintaining a level of fitness and diet that took away from living you day to day life how you wanted.

Taking all of that into consideration, you didn't want to feel like who you really were would let them down. You knew that they had created a grand conspiracy about what you might've looked like and who you might've been just by you voice alone. It scared the shit out of you.

Although later that night Tony and pepper reassured you over dinner and a few bottles of wine that none of them suspected you at all, you couldn't help but to feel like they all knew. Every walk down the hallway, trip down the stairwell, and polite smile in the lobby was an interaction closer to becoming a suspect in the grand conspiracy of the mystery Avenger.

The wine flowing through your veins certain didn't help as you got dropped off from dinner at Tony's and had to make the walk through the compound to get to your apartment.

Your phone rang in your back pocket, and Tony's name popped up.

"Can't get enough of me, huh?" You answered the phone in a state of giggly drunkenness.

"You wish. I forgot to tell you about the thing tomorrow night"

“The thing?" You questioned while pressing the elevator call button. "Pretty non-descriptive for a genius, don'tcha think?"

"I'm starting to regret even telling you about the thing now." Tony stated, you could almost hear him rolling his eyes. The elevator doors opened as you laughed as his statement. Thing. What a funny word. "You still with me? Did I give you too much to drink?"

"Oh yeah" you stumbled into the elevator, blissfully ignorant of the human already inside. "I can barely even handle one glass let alone the 3 refills I caught you pouring when you thought I wasn't looking. Hey, I'm in the elevator I might lose service. "

"Cool, let me make this quick. Tomorrow night, private Avengers party in the compound. You're going. If anyone asks, you're a systems analyst technician. 8 o'clock, wear your prettiest dress. See you then, bring your friend from IT!"

"Tony! What? I'm not going to that thing!" You tried telling him but you were cut off by beeping, letting you know the call had failed.

"Floor?" A strong voice asked beside you.

You jumped a mile high and clutched your hand to your chest to try and keep your heart from running away.

"Oh my gosh, I'm so sorry! I didn't mean to scare you" The voice apologized.

Your drunken brain barely allowed you to see straight, but when you looked up at the man just to identify him as Steve, your heart only ran away quicker and dropped straight into the pit of your stomach.

Suddenly, you felt like you were going to puke. But also, you were right. His extremely good looks had you melting into a puddle.

Self consciousness took over as you realized how you were dressed. Leggings, a big cozy sweater, sneakers, and hair in a ponytail with not a speck of makeup on your face. After a long mission, casual dinner at Tony's was tradition. You both didn't ever want to worry about wearing uncomfortable socially acceptable clothes after hours of stress. You didn't deserve to be in the presence of Steve in an outfit like this.

"I'm s-sorry" Your anxious stutter got in the way of even acting like you were fine. "Seven please"

He gave a little nod before pushing the button with a number seven on it, meanwhile you prayed that it was the end of your interaction.

You had only ever seen him in quick, few seconds long intervals. Sometimes you guys passed each other on the way to your private office, and other times you would see him walking in and out of the building while you sat at your favorite coffee shop right next door, but you had never gotten close enough to notice the small details.

The way his voice sounded straight from the source instead of muffled through the comms, his real height, the smell of his cologne, his strong energy.

Holy shit. Holy shit. Holy shit.

"I didn't mean to eavesdrop, but Tony as in Stark?" He questioned with an obvious friendly demeanor.

While your mind was on overdrive, his was only thinking about how the woman in the elevator with him was one of the most beautiful people he's ever seen, and he definitely wasn't going to let you get away without at least some small talk so he could make an impression.

"That's the one" You spoke quietly and kept looking down at the floor, praying he wouldn't recognize your voice.

"And he wanted you to go to a thing?" Steve kept pressing.

You so badly wished that this conversation was happening over the comms, so you could tell him to stop talking to strangers in the elevators. Maybe even smooth talk him, butter him up by calling him your baby and that his habit of being overly friendly was kind've creepy.

"Yeah, tomorrow night" You nodded. Even in your terribly anxious state, you still drunkenly laughed at the word thing.

But the pit in your stomach grew to be a lump in your throat. You didn't know if you needed more alcohol or less. Either way, you were holding back tears and vomit at this point.

"Oh nice! The Avengers party! Why aren't you going?"

This man really didn't know how to read body language, huh?

“Just busy at work, I'm sure you know how that is. Plus I'm not really much of a social butterfly" You explained.

"Stark will work you to the bone if you don't step away. Maybe going to the party and putting yourself out there can help with both those things" Steve shrugged.

Things. Why did everyone keep using that word? And why did it get funnier every time?

"What's so funny over there?" He asked with a lopsided smile.

Oh shit. Were you laughing out loud?

"Sorry- nothing. It's just........ the word thing." You explained, hoping that this elevator ride from hell would end soon.

Luckily for you, they came to a stop and the doors opened again for you to get off. You practically ran out but Steve held the door open with his forearm.

"It's a great word" He agreed. "So, will I see you tomorrow night?"

"Probably not" You shook her head and he gave you a fake hurt expression, dramatically clutching his chest.

"Right, cause you're going too busy at your job as a..."

"Systems analyst technician" thanks Tony.

"Got it. Steve Rogers by the way" He extended his hand to shake yours.

Another invasive giggle took over at the thought of him introducing himself to you. This was the same man calling you Mrs. Rogers but had no clue.

You reached out a shook his hand in a giggly anxious daze.

"Kind've put that one together. I'm-" just as you were about to say your name, you had to stop and think about it. "Drunk. Very, drunk"

He raised an eyebrow, obviously amused by the confession.

"Nice to meet you, Drunk. Hopefully you'll reconsider your choice and join us at the thing tomorrow" he smiled as the doors closed leaving you alone in the hallway.

Your artificial smile dropped as you raced back to your apartment. With shaky hands and nausea running rampant, you unlocked the door and found solace in the solitude of your own private space and your grey and white cat, Eeyore.

Your brain buzzed calculating all the possible outcomes of this situation. The only thing you could think of doing was calling Tony again.

It only rang once before he picked up.

"Seems like you’re obsessed with me" His voice did little to calm you down.

"Anthony Edward I swear to god-" you threatened.

"Woah there, Frowns. What's got your 'tude in a twist?"

"Remember that little elevator ride I was telling you about?"

"So what? You're stuck? Press the emergency call button, not me. You know, you really suck at basic survival skills" Tony said as if it was a matter of fact.

"No. You know who was in the elevator? Rogers" Your voice called attention to every ounce of panic you were feeling.

"No shit" You could hear Tony's amusement through the line. "Finally met your husband, he's a handsome guy isn't he? How red did he turn when he realized who you were?"

"This isn't funny! He didn't. At least I don't think he did. I hope he didn't, I'm panicking over here metal man"

"Oh he's more of an idiot than I thought" Tony mused.

"He kept asking me questions, why does he ask so many questions?"

"It's just what he does"

"He's going to figure it out, Tony. I can't go to that party tomorrow. He heard us talking on the phone, he knows I know you, he knows I'm drunk, and he thinks I'm a systems analyst technician whatever the fuck that means"

"Realistically, you know how many new people he meets every single day? He will probably forget all about it by tomorrow morning. You're fine, everything is going to be just fine"

"Okay, okay. Maybe you're right" You agreed.

Those words replayed over and over in your head like a mantra until the next day at two o'clock when you put your headset on to join in on an meeting about yesterday's mission.

You tried your hardest to push past the sinking feeling twisting your insides while you waited for their voices to come through, and when they did your heart sank.

"Awwww I think Steve is in looooove" Sam's voice taunted in a little song.

"Let's ask Tony about her when he gets here! You said she was on the phone with him right? I'm sure he can give you all the information you need" Natasha suggested.

"When you say she's pretty, how pretty do you actually mean?" Bucky questioned doubtfully.

"Stunning. I can't believe I've never seen her around before" Steve laid Bucky's words to rest.

Fuck, fuck, fuck. Maybe you should just hang up and call out for the day. You knew they were all trying to get Steve to date, they were probably all so excited that he was talking about a girl like that.

Wait... they were talking about you.

Steve Rogers thinks you're stunning.

He thought you were stunning when you looked like that.

Instant heartburn.

How were you supposed to cut into this conversation without seeming suspicious? Act. Normal.

"Who are you talking about, my love? Me?" You joked trying your hardest to not pass out on the spot. Little did he know...

"Oooooohhhh caught red handed" Clint shouted like a grade school student.

"Steve fell in love with a drunk girl in an elevator last night" Bucky explained bluntly.

"A stunning drunk girl?" You questioned with a forceful smile, you needed to sound as normal and undisturbed as possible.

"From what we've heard" Natasha confirmed.

"Is she willing to share with me?"

"You'll always be my one and only, sweetheart" Steve reassured.

Ironic.

"Keep talking like that and you're going to have no choice but to actually marry me"

"I'll go buy you a ring as soon as this meeting lets out" he said confidently.

You could hear the door of the meeting room open and close followed by Tony's voice. "Keep it in your pants love birds, let's get to work"

The rest of the meeting went smoothly, but that didn't do anything to still your fidgeting fingers and keep your bouncing leg in place. You knew that the closer they got to the end, the sooner the banter would start up again.

Tony's routine meeting conclusion of "I think that covers it. Anything else we should touch on?" Sparked the exact conversation you were dreading.

"Yeah! Yes." Sam jumped on it as if it was slowly killing him to keep the knowledge Steve's new love internalized. "Who's the girl you were talking to on the phone last night?"

"I talk to lots of people all the time. I have no clue what you're talking about" Tony played dumb.

"Stevie boy got in the elevator with a girl who was on the phone with you. Allegedly she was beautiful and captivating enough to spark a cute little middle school crush" Nat tried to refresh his memory.

"You invited her to the party tonight" Steve added.

"Ah right, I don't think she's coming" Tony deflected.

"But who is she? What's her name?" Wanda questioned.

"Eva" Tony said bluntly nearly giving you a heart attack. Thankfully, it wasn't your real name. "Leave her alone, she's really shy and pretty tentative. I'm sure a hoard of nosy Avengers all up in her business is the last thing she wants"

"Oooh, I like her already" Clint smiled.

"I do agree that everyone should leave her alone" Steve's strong voice commanded.

"So it's settled. Leave her be. Anything else?" Tony asked.

Everyone looked around at each other, all of them shrugging their shoulders or shaking their heads.

"Alright, no more work for the day. I expect to see all of you in your best outfits tonight" Tony dismissed them.

You quickly hung up after a speedy goodbye in anticipation of hanging out with your bestie tonight. It was Friday and a half work day, of course you were absolutely buzzing to get out of there.

By the time you had made it from your office to your apartment to get ready for the rest of the day, your phone was buzzing in your pocket from texts sent by Steve.

SR: Hey Princess! You left so quick I didn't even get a chance to talk to you! How are you?

SR:Hopefully an invite to the party was extended to you for tonight? I already know you aren't going to come, but that doesn't mean I'll ever stop inviting you :P

You: Always so thoughtful, sweet boy. Maybe if I didn't already agree to sushi and sake with my bestie I would come sweep you off your feet ;)

You: Also I'm sorry! Wouldn't have left so quick if I knew you were trying to talk to me. Im doing aye okay! Have you recovered from yesterday's mission?

SR: Honestly, sushi and sake sounds so yummy and way better than another Stark party :,). I'm almost recovered but I'm so tired I feel like I could sleep for another 70 years

You: Take a nap!!! Want me to come snuggle you to sleep?

SR: I could probably benefit from some cuddles to be honest

You: Couldn't we all?

SR: Hope you have the best sushi ever

You: Hope you have the best nap ever. Sweet dreams! Love you long time :p

SR: Love you lots!!!

Once again, you put down your phone and focused on yourself. You raced to get ready and had to stop yourself from running out of the compound to fill up your starving belly.

Dinner and drinks ended up being the perfect stress reliever, but walking around and doing some shopping in the city after was definitely healing your soul. Filling in your best friend about all the recent drama within the team over warm cinnamon rolls from their favorite corner bakery left you feeling so thankful you had at least one person outside of the team you could trust and talk you through everything happening in your life. You also loved hearing all about her drama within the IT department.

By the time you were walking home, your phone was flooded with texts in the team group chat from drunk avengers who were very obviously talking about you at the party.

Sam: Smiles we're placing bets about you right now. Are you tall or short? We have $10 on the line!

Nat: has anyone seen Clint? I think he ran away

Nat: Smiles is short for sure

Clint: I'm literally looking at you right now?

Bucky: I think she's tall

Wanda: Tiny but mighty

Tony: I planned a whole party and you guys are using it as a betting race for Smiles' height? Only mildly irritating.

Bucky: Steve is grumpy. Someone find a way to get him drunk

Pepper: Smiles is short :)

Sam: ????????????????? Pepper you know her why are you placing a bet?????????

Pepper: oops

You: Oh? Should I feel offended by this?

You: Why is Steve grumpy? What did you guys do to him?

You: Did anyone find Clint?

Sam: what's your height?

Bucky: He's grumpy because he's tired and hungry LOL

You: someone feed him!!! Y'all suck

You: You guys are all in the same room! Put your phones down, weirdos!

Clint: it's a very big room

Nat: maybe he's sad that Eva isn't here :(

You: Steve blink twice if you need help

Steve: You can't see it but I'm blinking

Steve: I'm sad because Smiles isn't here

Bucky: me too tbh

Wanda: did I miss the result of the bet?

You: Sweet sweet Wanda I love you!!!

You: Im 5"2

Tony: I think that's generous

Sam: TINY

Bucky: a whole foot smaller than me

Nat: I just know you're adorable!!!!!

Tony: now everyone place bets on if you think she's pretty or not

You: Tony you suck

You: Kiss my ass

Tony: <3

Pepper: don't do that. She's beautiful. Promise

You: Is this what y'all do when I'm not around to listen? Lolololol

Bucky: How pretty?

You: Omg

Tony: Smiles and Steve would make a cute couple

Steve: that's good! We already are a cute couple so this conversation is pretty unproductive

You: You tell 'em baby <3

Clint: what color hair do you have?

Sam: and eyes

You: Wanna know my bra size too?

Sam: well Steve does need to know what size lingerie to buy you for your wedding night ;)

You: We're already married

Steve: got her name changed to Smiles Rogers last week

Bucky: Steve is still grumpy

Nat: Clint is still missing in action

Clint: I'm at the bar

You: Don't worry, Stevie baby. I'll take care of you <3

You: Clint I'm going to put a location tracker on your ass

Sam: thank god. Someone needs to turn his frown upside-down.

You: You guys put your phones down and enjoy the party, I'll brb ;)

A few more stops around the city and a stealthy walk around the compound praying you wouldn't get caught, you curated the perfect plan to get Steve exactly what he wanted.

After making sure everything was in place, you quickly fled the scene to insure you wouldn't get spotted by any avengers as it happened since you had to approach a waitress at the entrance of the party to make it happen.

Sure, Steve was admittedly grumpy. But that didn't stop him from plastering a fake smile across his face while socializing with people he barely knew for hours on end. It's not like his shortening fuse and grumbling tummy was plaguing the rest of the mood for everyone else, so why Bucky kept choosing to bring it up was completely unbeknownst to him.

Besides, he was justified. Who would throw a party with just alcohol? No food, no snacks.

Maybe if he was a little better slept, being hungry wouldn't have made him so irrational. But what he wasn't admitting out loud was that he hadn't had any peaceful sleep since their last mission. His last night of sleep was full of constant interruptions and an occasional nightmare, and the nap he tried to take to make up for it had the same result.

So when a waitress approached him frantically with furrowed eyebrows and a shaken look on her face, he didn't even know if he was annoyed that his superhero status made him so approachable for help, or if he was happy to leave the party by any means.

"I'm so sorry to interrupt, Captain Rogers but something weird is happening and I don't know what is is or wh-" She rambled with a seemingly nervous buzz.

"It's alright, what happened?" He comforted the girl who couldn't have been older than seventeen. She looked like a young child to him.

"There's a person walking up and down the halls of where all the avengers rooms are. I think it was a girl but they had a hoodie on I couldn't really tell. They were being super creepy, jiggling all the doorknobs and trying to enter codes into the keypads. None of the doors opened but they left a package and I'm just really worried about it" She spoke at a hundred miles per hour. He could barely even get his brain to focus on her words through the thumping music and loud chatter around the room.

"I'll go look into it right now. Thanks for letting me know" He reassured her before pushing his way through the sea of people and exiting the noisy crowd into the solitude of their private living space.

The thumping of the music was now only a distant mumble and his shoes against the floor were the loudest noise around him. It brought him an odd amount of comfort as he snuck through the very halls the waitress had seen the suspicious person wandering.

Sure enough, the person was gone but there was a package. A brown paper bag right in front of his door.

He approached slowly, full of apprehension as his brain though of all the worst case scenarios of what could possibly be inside.

Was it a bomb? Perhaps disembodied limbs? A death threat?

But the closer he got, he noticed a little card with his name written in the neatest handwriting he's ever seen sticking out of the top.

It eased his suspicions a bit, but he still stood back as far as he could while peeking his head forward to look inside the bag.

Sushi and sake.

He threw his head back with a smile and a sigh of relief when he realized who it was from, and the concerned waitress was just a trap.

He unlocked the door and walked in his room before kicking off his shoes and opening the card inside.

My dearest husband, Steve~

Sorry for the little production, had to find a way to get you out of there! Hope this helps your bad case of the grumpies ;) Love you, mean it!

~ your wife, Mrs. Smiles Rogers

Steve happily accepted the excuse to end his appearance at the social event and spend the rest of his night eating alone and indulging in a good book.

However, after his belly was full and he had showered, he could barely even get his mind to focus on the book in his hands. His mind kept running off to the conversations the team regularly had about Smiles. In hindsight, he felt guilty.

There had to be a reason why you chose to stay hidden away from them, and there were so many valid reasons to choose that for yourself. He couldn't imagine that being easy, and he also knew that even with distance between them, you made the avengers feel loved and cared for.

You had the sweetest soul and just your voice alone had the ability to sooth the nerves of in-battle superheroes while also being commanding enough to get shit done. Smiles felt special regardless of what you looked like, he knew that with full confidence.

So when the whole team placed stupid bets on your height, or hair color, and even regularly begging Tony to tell them more about the way you looked, he couldn't help but to feel a little angry at them. Sure, it was fun to visualize what a person they loved could possibly look like, but boiling your worth down to physical attributes was wrong.

He didn't know if it was his own guilt or faulting mood that craved the comfort of a conversation with his favorite teammate, but either way his hands were dialing your number faster than his brain even thought about it.

"Hello?" The familiar voice came through, instantly putting a smile on his face.

"Hey, baby" He giggled, it was obvious you didn't check collar ID before picking up.

"Oh! Hi, cutie" Your smile was obvious now and your mood seemed to have dramatically changed. "Didn't realize that was you calling. I just assumed it was Sam or Bucky calling me again"

"Again?" Steve asked.

"Yeah, they called like 10 minutes ago. Something about wanting to know if I had curly or straight hair." You explained.

"Oh man, they're really laying in on you tonight huh, Sweetheart?" Steve sighed.

"It's alright" You shrugged even though you knew he couldn't see it. "I'd be curious too, I can't really blame them. How are you feeling? Better?"

"So much better, all thanks to you. I feel like I owe you a billion dollars for getting me out of there alone. Thank you so much"

"Oh stop it" You giggled. "I know how much it sucks to be stuck in a social situation when you aren't feeling the best. It's our duty to look out for each other."

"Well I think you're an angel sent from heaven above, and I appreciate you more than you'll ever know"

"You're making me blush over here! Anything for you, baby."

Both of your laughter took over before you caught you composure again and a small comfortable silence took over. It was like you guys were both weighing out the pros and cons of bringing up the slightly heavier topics you wanted to talk about. But, you pushed past the slight racing in your heart and tried to be brave for the sake of making sure he was genuinely alright.

"Bucky mentioned you were tired, what happened to that nap you were supposed to take?" You questioned sympathetically.

It was almost like you already knew the answer, yet for some reason, Steve always felt safe talking to you. Sometimes he found himself telling you about things he didn't even tell Bucky.

"To be quite honest, I don't really know." He sighed. "No matter how tired I get I just can't sleep, and when I do sleep it's not great."

"You should ask Tony to install an off and on switch connected to your brain" You suggested.

"You're so right. That's brilliant. Do you have one?" He questioned.

"Nope. Unfortunately for me my brain is always on. I'm very familiar with sleep issues" You explained. "Bold of me to assume your dreams haven't been too sweet?"

"Not bold at all. I think that mission got to me, I'm not even really sure why. It's not like it was a particularly bad one" He admitted.

"I'm pretty sure all missions are bad missions" You though out loud. "You know...... not to be drab or anything"

“You're right, maybe I'm just desensitized to it"

"Ground work is not fun, it makes me sad you guys have to do it so often. And I hope that nothing ever gets bad enough that I have to join you guys out there" Your tone was sympathetic, but it was interrupted a few times by tiny high pitched meows.

"Hold on, there's so much to unpack" Steve laughed. "Do I hear.... a cat?"

"Yes Sir" He could hear that constant smile come back. "A very needy and annoying cat that's trying to convince me that he's starving even though I see food in his bowl right now"

"What?! I thought we weren't allowed to have pets?" He jealously questioned.

"You guys aren't allowed to have pets, but apparently Tony thinks I'm special"

"Apparently! What's his name?" Steve couldn't help but to smile at the wholesome image of you on the phone with a little cat stepping all over you trying to earn some attention.

"Eeyore! He always has this little grumpy expression on his face, hence the name" You explained.

"I'm so jealous! I wish I could have a cat" He pouted like a child as the meows turned into content purrs.

"Have you asked Tony?"

"I ask him like once every two months"

"Did you know if you see a therapist you can get a note and qualification for an emotional support animal? Then legally Tony can't say no" You said smugly.

"Is that how you got to be so special?" He asked with a chuckle.

"Therapy all the way, baby" You confirmed his suspicions.

"Okay, next question. Have you ever done groundwork?"

"Only twice and decided right on the spot that my particular set of skills is more beneficial in an environment I can concentrate in. I'm fully trained for emergencies though, so if all of humanity is on the avengers shoulders you guys will be seeing me up close and personal" You explained.

"Well in that case I hope I never meet you" He joked.

"Same here! I'll just keep admiring you from a distance"

"That implies you see me on the regular" Steve poked, wondering how often he's around you while being completely unaware.

"You know what? Not as often as you might think!"

"No? I'd assume at least once a day."

"I don't even remember the last time I saw you." You lied in hopes of dissolving any tiny suspicions that elevator Eva might've been you. "Are you sure you even still live here?"

"Oh I'm positive. Because if I didn't, maybe if actually be getting some sleep." He pointed out.

"Touché."

"I have a question for you, and I hope it's okay to ask, but does it bother you when everyone asks questions about what you look like?" He sounded hesitant and boarder-line sad about it.

"Most if the questions don't bother me, but I'm not particularly a fan of Tony asking everyone if they think I'm ugly. He's lucky I knew he was joking or else I'd actually beat his ass" Your answer earned a hum in agreement from Steve as you contemplated on letting him in more.

You knew he had a heart of gold, nothing you could say to him would be held against you and he certainly wouldn't use it to dig around to find more information about you.

"The part that actually bothers me is that I can't answer. It makes me sad to rain on the parade. I wish I could answer all the questions and be with you guys all the time but I can't." You elaborated.

"Well I certainly don't think you're raining on any parades, sweetheart." The amount of sincerity in Steve's voice made you smile and your tummy flip. "If it starts to bother you too much, just let me know and I'll yell at them."

"I don't think any yelling needs to happen." You giggled, followed by some shuffling sounds.

"Whatcha doinnnnnn?"

"Mmmmmmmm I'd tell you but I think you're going to make fun of me." Your sweet voice contemplated.

"Me? Make fun of my wife? Never!" He was fake offended.

"Okay, then I'll tell you."

"Let's hear it!"

"I just got into bed and buried myself into a mountain of blankets." You admitted.

"Okay then I can't really make fun of you even if I wanted to because I'm doing the same exact thing right now." Steve smiled.

"Wow, we really are soulmates. Huh, handsome?"

"Seems like it, Lovie."

Even as it started getting late, you guys stayed on the phone for hours. Whether he wanted to admit it or not, your chit-chat was helping him ease all the residual anxiety and preemptive nerves of a night full of terrible dreams. But eventually, he fell asleep.

When the comfortable silence turned into even, soft and steady breaths, you knew he had lost the battle. Nothing made you happier knowing that you had lulled such a gentle giant to sleep- even if it was unintentional.

That night, the nightmares never showed up which Steve was thankful for. When he woke up the next morning slightly confused as to when exactly he fell asleep, he realized that talking to Smiles was the absolute highlight of his day.

Over the course of a few months, that same phone call became routine. Right before bed, you would wait for your phone to ring and the two of you would talk about everything under the sun and absolutely nothing at all. You guys spoke about your days, simple pleasures, complex issues, how much you loved your work, how much you hated your work, and even your love lives (or lack there of).

The more comfortable you became around him, the more you contemplated on adding him to the small group of people who knew your true identity. It was getting especially hard to keep him away when he would ask the cutest questions with his raspy, sleepy voice as he drifted off to dreamland.

Each question always started with a genuine "you don't have to answer, but...". And each one usually involved when you would see him. He wondered where you saw him walking around the most, if you had ever even been to the Avengers private sector of the compound, and most importantly if you two had ever had a face to face conversation.

Since it had been a few months post elevator incident and he had finally stopped talking about 'Eva' you answered with an honest yes but nothing more descriptive than that. He respectfully asked more about that interaction but nothing that would give away exactly when and where it had happened. It was playful, and he loved teasing you about it.

"I know you're lying to me" Steve laughed with a smile, thankful you couldn't see his face turning red.

"I'm not, but you can believe whatever you want Pretty Princess" You made fun of the nickname Steve was stuck on tonight.

"Sweetheart, I'd recognize that pretty little voice anytime of the day. There is no way I looked you in the eyes and held a conversation without knowing" He insisted.

"Oh so you do know me! Where'd we meet?" You questioned while shaking your head with a smile.

"We didn't. You're lying"

“I shook your hand too" You happily added fuel to the fire.

"You shook my hand?!?!?" His voice was twice as loud as he shouted that statement. Drama queen. "Now you're really lying"

"How many hands do you shake a day, baby?"

"A lot." He said bluntly. "What color was I wearing?"

"White" You immediately answered knowing he was trying to call your bluff.

"I always wear white" he complained.

"It looks good on ya!" You complemented. "I just winked by the way."

"I gathered that." He reassured.

You readjusted your blankets for maximum comfort, completely unaware of the silence that fell over them. Your tired eyes stayed closed and your phone resided on the unoccupied pillow next to your head.

"You falling asleep on me, sweet girl?" He questioned.

"Mhm, I'm drowning under the weight of my own lies" You mumbled into the pillow as Eeyore made himself cozy on your back. He curled up into a little ball so you were pretty much stuck laying on your stomach.

"Punk"

"Jerk" you rolled your eyes.

Comfortable silence took over, both of your brains were running far away into the vast planes of dreamland, minds forming half conscious thoughts at a mile a minute... too lazy to verbalize any of them.

That was until you had one that you couldn't quite keep to yourself. He just made you too damn happy. "Honey?" You whispered, hoping he wasn't asleep yet.

"Yes, sweetheart?" He questioned, voice deep and raspy.

"One day, I'm going to be able to give you the biggest hug in the world." You told him.

A big smile smeared across his sleepy face at your words. "That'll be the best day of my life."

"Your life?!" You emphasized.

"The whole entire thing." He confirmed. "And whenever you come give me the biggest hug in the whole world, I'm going to give you the biggest hug in the universe... you know that?"

"Sounds amazing." You pulled the blankets around you even tighter. "You know I would if I could."

"I know, I know." Steve reassured sympathetically. "There is never any pressure, Baby. I find comfort knowing you're only one call away, really, that's already so close."

"And when our phones go out in the middle of the night, we're only a few floors away in the same four walls." You agreed.

"To me, that feels like a hug." Steve let you know. "The biggest one in the whole wide world."

"Maybe the universe." Those three words were the last you managed to mumble out before sleep forcefully washed over you.

Although Steve knew deep down he was going to be let down eventually, he couldn't help the warm and fuzzy feeling that basked in his brain and swirled around tummy at the act of falling asleep to such a lovely voice every single night. It felt domestic and vulnerable, like it was always meant to be that way.

He didn't even know when it happened, but at a certain point he didn't even have to try anymore. The romantic sentiments and pet names just rolled off his tongue without second thought. At its height, he found himself daydreaming about what it might be like to actually meet you one day. He knew it probably would never happen, but for now he was happy knowing that the distance between you was so small that it was practically an illusion.

Next: The Smiley Sticker

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