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jules-loves-lukecastellan · 4 months

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| luke castellan x fem! daughter of poseidon! reader

౨ৎ warnings ౨ৎ: none i think

౨ৎ summary ౨ৎ: luke and [reader] go on a secret date, only to be caught by annabeth, percy, and grover

౨ৎ PART 2 OUT NOW ౨ৎ

“I thought this place was secret..”

“where’re you going anyways at 10:00 am on a random tuesday??”

percy asked, giving a very confused look, mostly because, you’re never up at 10:00 am or ever putting this much effort into making sure your shirt looks good enough.

“percy, i’m not going anywhere. i just decided to.. put a little more effort in today i guess.”

you said with glowing cheeks, thinking of luke. percy doesn’t seem to convinced and was about to say something else, but you quickly beat him to it, to avoid other integrations.

“are you sure my shirt looks good?” “should i opt for the baggier jeans or keep these flared ones on?”

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it was a sunny day for camp half blood. perfect for a picnic or maybe even a secret date..

as you exited your cabin, ready to spend some much needed time with your favorite boy ever, you were stopped by annabeth. don’t get me wrong, you love annabeth. but right now, you wanted some alone time with luke.

“hey y/n! i wanted to ask if you could help me work on some new sparring skills? i was going to ask luke but i can’t seem to find him anywhere.” annabeth asked with a hopeful look in her eyes.

you hesitated in saying it, but you couldn’t ever turn down helping someone. “sure annie. why not” you said with a bit of a forced smile.

as she showed you the moves she’s been working on, you correct her on her form and where she would be exposed to the enemy. this goes on for about 20 minutes until grover walks by and starts talking to annabeth about something.

you use this opportunity to quietly slip away to finally see luke. all you wanted to do was kiss him and hug him and do everything affectionate with him because you felt like you haven’t seen him in forever (you haven’t seen him for like a day).

as you brush through the sharp pine needles and itchy bushes, you finally catch a glimpse of the boy you fell in love with when you were 14.

you see him laying down on a blanket, with his elbows propping him up. you sneak up behind him and put your hands over his eyes.

“guess who!” you say lightly laughing as he guesses stupid answers like “Chiron” or “Percy”.

as you remove your hands from his eyes he gets up and immediately kiss you all over your cheeks, nose, forehead, and finally your lips.

“hey, i’ve missed you so much.” luke says with love laced in his eyes.

“not as much as i’ve missed you.” “i have to tell you all about the morning i’ve had just to get here!” you exclaimed with a smile as you both sit down, hand in hand.

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some time has passed. about an hour or so. your head is on luke’s shoulder as he’s telling you all about how his week has been and how much he’s missed you (even though you two saw each other literally the day before).

in the middle of talking, you decided to just kiss him because well, you love him and this is one of the only times you got to spend time with him alone. as you’re both ahem.. making out, you hear footsteps, but you don’t think much of it.

until you hear a percy yelling “WHY ARE YOU MAKING OUT WITH MY HALF-SISTER?!?!!” as grover catches up with percy, panting. and annabeth removes her hat, “percy! you ruined our cover you seaweed brain.”

“well sorry that i’m freaked out that luke is making out with my sister!! we’re lucky we didn’t get here later..”

as both you and luke just sit there dumbfounded, you finally decide to speak up. “ok why are you all here??” percy replies back very sassily “oh missy that’s the least of your problems.”

you roll your eyes as one of the more mature ones respond (annabeth) “well after grover finished talking to me, i saw that you weren’t with me anymore and also judging how luke wasn’t where he usually is either, i got a little fishy. so i grabbed percy and grover and went off.”

percy is just glaring at luke. like staring daggers into him. luke is just sheepishly smiling as he lays his head on your shoulder kissing it. as you both hear percy lecturing you on how it’s not ok to sneak around and such, annabeth and grover just sit there laughing as you and luke just keep playfully rolling your eyes and being dramatic with your responses like “oh i’m so sorry percy! i won’t ever do this again!”

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as you walk back to your cabin, percy in the middle of you and luke, you’re thinking all about how much you’ve fallen for luke and how excited you are to build your future with him (oop).

and as all three of you walk toward the poseidon cabin, you mouth to luke “stay outside for a minute”. you and percy walk inside and you make up some excuse to go back out there.

you go back outside where luke still is and you hug him around his waist. “that date was fun.. until.. yknow” you said laughing.

he rests his chin on the top of your head, and laughs. “yea. i always love spending time with my sunshine.” he says as he kisses the top of your head and pulls away.

you smile and look at his left eye, his lips, then to his right eye (triangle method lol). you lean in and kiss his soft lips as his arms find their way to your waist and yours to his neck. as you both pull away, foreheads touching, luke whispers with a smile,

“my cabin. 10:30 pm. make sure percy’s asleep.” you lightly laugh and pull away going into your cabin. as luke is about to walk to his counselor duties, he sees percy in the window giving him the death glare. he flinches and he awkwardly smiles and walks backwards until percy walks away from the window.

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౨ৎ a/n ౨ৎ-(PT2??) first imagine done! i really hope u liked this one. pls request some!! i love writing for our fav evil boyfriend lol. and give me feedback! i’m new to this whole “imagines” thing haha <3 (btw idk how to put my requests thing on so just pm me with them🫶🏻🫶🏻)

-jules🎀

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erwinsvow · 1 month

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𝐫𝐜 - 𝟐:𝟏𝟏𝐩𝐦

you slept at tannyhill every night now.

it was commonplace to see you making breakfast in the kitchen, by the pool with sarah or inside watching some silly movie with wheezie. that was only sometimes though, since all your time was usually spent with rafe.

he liked having you around at tannyhill all the time—he thought it was cute. you wait for him to get back like a little housewife, looking pretty and pampered and tan, like he wants.

he doesn’t like waking you up early when he’s leaving for the day. you used to set your alarm to get up and drink coffee with him but he’s started turning it off—you don’t have any reason to be up that early.

sweet and always compliant, you do as he says, sleeping in. rafe presses a kiss to your forehead in the morning before he leaves, day filled with meetings and business things that he doesn’t always tell you about in detail. you just know that he’s gone.

“stoppin’ by barry’s and then the club with kelce. we’re playing golf with-” you listen to rafe while he puts on his watch and his rings, but you drift off half way through. you feel the warm press of his lips on your skin and the sound of him saying goodbye.

you’re not sure when it happened—you used to get up early and get ready for the day, filling your summer days with friends at the beach and your books by the pool and never going more than an hour alone. but now that you’re with rafe, it’s so easy to sit around and wait for him. you don’t even want to see anyone, you just want the hours to pass until he’s back.

maybe it’s not healthy. you don’t really care much even if it’s not.

you fall back asleep, and wake up when the sun is pouring in between rafe’s dark curtains. you stretch and debate going downstairs to eat something, but after brushing your teeth you crawl back into rafe’s bed. the sheets smell like him and you stare awfully long at the pillow he sleeps on. shifting the pillow to lay on it, you fall back asleep, not waking up until you hear the door to his room open.

rubbing your eyes, you glance up, hoping it’s not ward looking for him since you’re just in one of rafe’s shirts and nothing else, but the shape in front of you gets closer and clearer.

“what’s this? been in bed all day, kid?” you yawn again.

“what time is it?” you question, laying back down against rafe’s pillow.

“two in the afternoon.” he comes and sits by the edge, stroking your hair while you melt into his touch. “got any plans to get up today?” you shake your head.

“your bed’s comfy. and it smells like you.”

“that’s cute, kid. gotta get up eventually.”

“you’ll have to make me.”

“that can be arranged.” you giggle, lifting yourself up to give rafe a hug, head resting on his shoulder. "but i like you like this. don't have to lift a finger, do'ya?"

“no," you agree, nodding your head. maybe you could get used to this. "missed you.”

“i’m back now. nothin’ to miss.”

“i still do.” rafe presses another kiss to your forehead, and you nestle in further. “i could fall asleep like this.”

“yeah, no.” in one motion he scoops you up, placing you on your feet. you yelp in surprise, fighting against his grip.

"i'm still tired! i thought you wanted to spoil me, this isn't spo-"

“shut up. c’mon, we’re gonna go shower.” that shuts you up right away.

“okay,” you sing sweetly, suddenly compliant.

“yeah, i knew you'd get out of bed for some dick. little freak.”

#rafe cameron #rafe cameron x reader #time series

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peachesofteal · 6 months

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Can we please please please get some more Simon x single mother au? Possibly him helping in the garden/ keeping emmaline out of trouble while Mom works in the garden

Light on - single mom/neighbor fic Simon Riley/female reader 18+ mdni / mild sexual content

“Ow! fuck!”

Your hand jerks, drawing back to your mouth with a hiss.

“What is it?” He forces himself still, staring daggers at where the tip of your finger has started to leak blood, a thick drop dripping down the side before you bring it to your mouth, lush lips wrapping around your injury. “Are you alright?” His tone is tightly controlled, even keeled, nonchalant, but on the inside, worry gnaws away at his stomach, chewing through the organ until it’s spilling free and running rampant through his body.

“There’s a piece of glass in here.” In the garden bed? “Some of the other tenants, hang around up here at night. They usually leave bottles or cans behind.” The worry turns to anger, a simple plan slowly taking shape in his mind, a strategy to find the rooftop partiers, and ensure they never leave glass in your garden again.

Emmaline cries, nose and brows wrinkled in irritation, and you turn to coo at her, finger still half in your mouth.

“It’s okay, little pea. Just give me a second.” She continues to fuss, and you sigh, wilting like one of your own little flowers, left too long in the sun without water. You blink, and it’s like you’ve shed your sunlit skin for an exhausted shell. Oh, sweetheart. I know it’s hard, but you don’t have to do it on your own anymore.

I’m here now.

“Can I?” He asks softly, warming at how your face lights with relief.

“Yes, please.” You point to the bottle that’s tucked in the side of the backpack, and he unbuckles her from the bouncer that you lugged up the four flights of stairs earlier, even though he had texted you an hour before and politely suggested you wait for him to be finished his phone call, so he could help you.

You went up anyway, much to his displeasure. Displeasure, that he had to swallow, permanently.

You’re not his. Not yet. He can’t be disappointed by resistance or refusal when you don’t even know all the ways he can be there for you yet. He knows you’ll learn. You��re a smart girl. His smart girl.

Emmaline lays nestled in the crook of his elbow, slightly elevated on her back, and he pops the cap of the bottle easily, rubbing his index finger against her cheek to trigger the reflex that will open her mouth. When it does, he keeps it at the right angle to ensure the formula doesn’t flow too fast into her belly.

“You’ve done this before.” You murmur, reaching into the backpack for a band aid. You’re studying him, tracing over his face, his hands that are nearly the size of your baby, and he can feel the scrutiny, the curious intensity of your gaze.

“Had a nephew. I was around a lot, when he was this age.” He had a brother too. And a mother. A sister-in-law. A family.

Emmaline gurgles around the nipple, and he slips it free, sitting her mostly upright, giving her a gentle pat on the back amid her protestations, little grunts that he’s sure she means as ‘feed me’ and ‘more’. He waits for you to ask him the dreaded questions, the focus on the word had, the inevitable conversation about loss and family and pain, guilt and grief that can make a man feel like he’s been buried alive.

You don’t.

Instead, you simply say,

“Emmaline had a dad once, too.”

It’s nearly 2100 when you knock on his door later, baby monitor in one hand, two amber colored bottles in another.

“Hey. You busy?” His heart does a double tap inside his chest. Bad timing, the worst. Your sweet mouth is slightly open, hopeful, teeth parted just barely to reveal a flash of tongue, and his jaw clenches against the wild need that catapults through his veins to his cock. What do you taste like? What do you feel like? You motion to the monitor. “Just went down. Figure I have about an hour before I pass out myself and could use some adult time.” Shit. The duffel bag next to the door practically speaks for him, irritatingly reminding him he has a plane to catch in less than two hours.

“I can’t, I’m about to head out.” Your brow furrows, confusion churning into understanding within a moment, disappointment flickering across your expression before it smooths out.

“Right. Okay.”

“I want to.” He hurries the words. “But I travel… for work and I have to be on a flight in a few hours.” You’re already half turning away, slinking off to your apartment, giving him a soft agreement as you go.

“Sure, yeah.”

“Wait, sweetheart,” You startle at the pet name, eyes going wide at the inferred affection. “when I get back, let’s… have a drink.” You nod, and he smiles a real smile, barely tugging his lips upward, probably hardly visible to you. The kind of smile he’s been wearing around you these past two weeks, the kind of smile he tries to give Emmaline when she stares at him.

“Alright, sounds good then.” Your key finds your lock, and he steps out into the hallway, trapping your gaze with his own.

“You girls be good.” He says, a parting instruction, and a bashful, bewildered smile of your own curves across your mouth.

“We will.”

#light on #peaches asks #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley #peaches writes

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ennabear · 4 months

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sleepy abby headcanons 🙊

*ೃ༄ she’s a teeth grinder, according to owen. poor baby is so stressed she can’t even escape it when she’s asleep. if she has a particularly bad dream, she’ll wake up with a sore jaw.

*ೃ༄ also, she’s a sleep talker. she doesn’t usually say full words or sentences, but she’ll mumble some half-coherent words in her sleep. it’s always either something to do with her dream, or her unconsciously mumbling “love you.”

*ೃ༄ frequent nightmares. it’s always about losing you, or losing her dad. she’s no stranger to the hospital corridor.

*ೃ༄ her nightmares don’t really scare her anymore. they just bolt her awake with a gasp, the feeling lasts until she’s too sleepy to forget about it. she’s often unable to go back to sleep after them, but she feels more comfortable if you wake up and soothe her. do not ask her to talk about it or she’ll bawl her eyes out.

*ೃ༄ on a more positive note, she’s a huuuge cuddlebug. she’s about 50/50 when it comes to big spoon vs little spoon. her most favorite position is to fall asleep with her arms around your waist and her head on your tits.

*ೃ༄ if you’re a chubby girl, you’re her favorite pillow <33 she’ll take any excuse to lay her head on your tummy, thighs, or boobs. she love love loves to gently use you as a stress ball, too.

*ೃ༄ she doesn’t usually take naps because she’s not tired during midday, but if you’re napping she’ll lay with you, promising herself not to fall asleep. and 10 minutes later she’s fast asleep with her head buried in your neck because she couldn’t help herself. you were so warm and comfy and suddenly she was tired.

*ೃ༄ she’s a very strict no noise, no lights person. she doesn’t believe in background noise or night lights because they’re too distracting and she can’t sleep with them on. although, if you’re into that, she could get used to it.

*ೃ༄ i don’t think she’s a big snorer, or a mouth breather in general. she may occasionally gently snore for a few hours, but for the most part she’s just a heavy breather. she loves it when you lay your head on her chest and match her breathing, especially if she’s had a bad dream.

*ೃ༄ there’s only like one blanket that she actually uses. she prefers blankets that are big enough to fully cover her, but that won’t overheat her. sometimes she gets too hot anyways and sleeps without it.

*ೃ༄ she doesn’t really like sleeping with her hair down. it always makes her hair too messy when she wakes up, and she doesn’t wanna re-do her hair care routine, so she just opts for the braid

*ೃ༄ her alarm goes off hella early for the gym. i’m talking like 4-5am. she has two alarms though. one to wake up. and another one ten minutes later. why??? so she can stay in bed for ten minutes cuddling her girl until she leaves.

#my sleeping beauty :)))#abby anderson #abby anderson x reader #abby the last of us #abby anderson x female reader #abby anderson fluff #abby anderson tlou2 #abby tlou #lesbian

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seventh-district · 7 months

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Midnight Hour

With the warm haze of sleep fading from you, your brow furrows as your right hand presses lightly against his lower abdomen, your thumb sweeping up and down in a small attempt at a comforting motion. You quietly call for his attention, voice still thick with sleep.

“Star? Is everything okay?”

You awake in the middle of the night to find your lover in tears.

Pairing: Astarion x Reader

Word Count: 3,139

Content Warnings: [crying (obviously)] [non-specific mentions of Astarion's past trauma] [this fic was written by someone who hasn't actually played the game and that might show in the details/the lack thereof]

Blinking your tired eyes open, you squint at the light of the crackling fire in front of you. Closing them again, you let out a soft sigh as you try to guess at the current time. Given that you woke on your own, you’re assuming it’s likely close to, but not quite, time for you to take over tonight’s watch shift.

Your group has fallen into a routine where you pair off into teams of two, and a different team keeps watch each night. Tonight’s turn belongs to you and Astarion, and he’s taken the first half of the shift as usual. You usually, ironically, sleep your best on the nights that he keeps watch, in spite of only getting half the amount of sleep as you do on the nights another team has the job.

You suppose you can credit the fact that, at the end of the day, Astarion is a creature of the night. Something about knowing he has the upper hand when it comes to any unwanted nighttime visitors your group may encounter is… reassuring. To you, as well as to the others in the group, loathe as some of them may be to admit it. That is, once they all felt confident in his promises to not make a surprise midnight snack of them, at least.

Tonight is a bit of an exception, though, and you’re not quite sure what woke you early this time. You typically sleep soundly until he gently coaxes you awake, nails combing through your hair, voice soft and apologetic in your ear. He’s always somewhat reluctant to wake you, but he does so nonetheless, having learned his lesson after the first time he made the executive decision to let you sleep the whole night through. His arguments of “You really looked like you could use the rest.” and “What’s one sleepless night? I can sleep when I’m dead.” didn’t hold much water in the face of the way he dragged ass through the entire next day.

In “the spirit of fairness” and “proving that he can stick to an agreement,” he never tried to take the whole shift by himself again. It definitely didn’t have anything to do with how guilty he felt when he heard the disappointment in your tone when you awoke that first morning and discovered he hadn’t stuck to the plan. Definitely.

Laying there in the quiet, you try and fail to pinpoint what feels different about tonight. You don’t hear any strange noises, nothing feels unusual, and blinking your eyes open again you raise your head a bit to look around the fire. The rest of the group are circled around the other sides of the heat source, sleeping soundly. You figure that you’re probably just getting used to this routine by now, and your body simply woke up around your usual shift change time on its own.

Still, that doesn’t explain the vague, unplaceable feeling that something is just… off.

You let out a sigh that turns into a yawn as you stretch and roll away from the fire onto your back. Letting your head roll further to the left, your eyes land on the familiar sight of your lover’s back as he sits in his usual position beside you, diligently watching your six.

He’s taken to placing his bedroll right next to yours, insisting that you lie between the fire and himself. You couldn’t really argue with his point that he can’t feel the cold anyways, so there’s no need for him to be the one next to the fire. Nor could you argue with the benefits of having him as a line of defense between you and whatever lurks beyond the reach of the firelight.

The feeling of security and protection that he provides you with is still relatively foreign to you, and a soft smile blooms on your face at the warm feeling it brings. Your smile then falls a bit as you remember the silent question you ask yourself on the regular, of whether or not you provide him with the same.

You roll the rest of the way to your left, and shuffle further toward him, closing what remains of the small gap he’d placed between the two of you. Lying halfway on your bedroll and halfway on his, you curl your body around his seated form, bringing your right arm up and gently placing a hand on the right side of his waist. He flinches slightly, and if this were earlier on in your relationship, you’d retract your hand. He’s long since informed you though that his reaction to unexpected touch is simply involuntary, and as long as it’s you, you’ve no need to pull away.

You recall the quiet, restrained desperation in his voice when he first explained it to you, all but begging you not to pull away. He can’t control the way his body reacts to touch, given that before you, he couldn’t recall the last time being touched meant anything other than pain. In spite of that though, he wants it. He wants you. That’s obvious in the way that he, without fail, immediately relaxes under your gentle touch once his mind and body process that it’s coming from you. The way he’s come to not only relax, but to lean into it. Lean into you.

You’d never push past his boundaries, never in a million years, but he’s made it quite clear after about a thousand of your quiet requests for consent at every minor touch, that he’s entirely welcoming of your non-sexual physical affections. Getting the man to verbally admit that he actually enjoys cuddling with you, without the truth being concealed beneath a heavy layer of playful banter and practiced, honeyed words didn’t come easy, but he came around to it in his own time.

So, you don’t pull back, instead following through with the motion and slowly snaking your arm around his waist. You press your front against his lower back and curl around to rest your left cheek atop his left thigh. You can’t help but notice that he doesn’t relax into you in the way he usually does, and your head turns to the right a bit, struggling to get a half-decent look at his face as you’re both turned away from the fire light.

He remains tense, still, and unresponsive to your movements, gaze seemingly locked dead ahead of him, staring out into the dark forest.

“Star? Is everything okay?”

His typically silent breath suddenly hitches, and his head angles down to face you. Now that he’s turned toward the light, you catch the way his eyes shine, and the way the light reflects off of what you quickly realize are tear tracks, running down his cheeks. He’s actively crying, tears dripping from his chin, and now with his head tilted down at you they take a different path, running down to converge and fall from the tip of his nose.

You nearly bolt upright in your shock, quickly unwrapping yourself from him and clambering around on all fours until you’re sat down in front of him, your hands gripping tightly to your upper thighs in worry. His wide-eyed gaze followed your every movement, and even now that you’re sat still in front of him, his eyes still dart around, frantically scanning you, for what, you don’t know.

“What- what’s going on?”

You keep your voice as quiet as you reasonably can in spite of your shock and concern, not eager to wake your companions and have everyone witness… whatever this is.

He doesn’t respond, looking just about as lost as you feel, shaking his head in silence as more tears fall. It’s one hell of a sight, and it suddenly hits you that this is the first time you’ve ever seen him cry.

Unsure of what to do and what even caused this, you resist the urge to wrap him in a hug, not wanting to overstep in this unfamiliar territory. Instead, you glance back over your shoulder and once again see and hear nothing of note before trying another question.

“Is there a threat? Did you see something that scared you, honey?”

He takes a long moment to answer, seeming unsure, before eventually settling on another shake of his head. His lack of confidence in his answer isn’t the most reassuring thing at the moment, but given that you aren’t detecting any danger either, you decide to believe that he really didn’t see any threat. At least, not here. Not right now, in the present moment, in front of him. He seems about halfway here and halfway gone, and if your growing suspicions are correct, he’s probably been sat here lost in the dark corners of his mind for a while now, given the state he’s in.

You catch movement to Astarion’s right side and watch as Karlach raises up from her prior position sprawled out face-down on her bedroll, propping herself up with her forearms beneath her. Her expression of concern is too aware and her eyes are too awake for her to have just now woken up, and you quickly gather that she’s probably been awake and laying there long enough to have heard your questions and Astarion’s lack of any verbal response. She doesn’t say anything though, and doesn’t move, just letting the situation unfold and keeping a watchful eye on the darkness behind you.

Relaxing slightly at the knowledge that someone else is awake and helping to keep watch now, your focus shifts back to Astarion, who’s gaze has moved to his lap, tears still falling fast. It’s almost unsettling, the way he cries. There’s no sound, no movement, his breathing is hardly even affected, nothing more than the occasional shaky breath to give away any sign of struggle at all. You don’t have to guess why it’s like this, given what he’s told you about his past. You’re sadly certain that he learned to cry like this ages ago. Silent and still, sat alone in the dark so no one would notice.

You don’t want to think about the sorts of punishments he’s endured as a result of showing such pain and emotion, but your mind pulls from what experiences he’s shared and offers up a few anyways, making you begin to feel sick.

Leaning down and trying to catch his gaze, you ask another question.

“Astarion, are you with me right now?”

He blinks, more tears spill, and his lips finally part as he responds to you with a strained whisper.

“I’m trying to be…”

You smile in spite of your current emotions and the general mood of the situation, doing your best to be something positive, something gentle, something safe for him to focus on.

“There you are…”

You say it to yourself as much as to him, relieved to finally hear his voice, as laced with pain as it sounds. You hold out your hand near where his lie balled into fists in his lap, offering him contact without forcing it on him.

“I want you to keep trying, okay? Do your best to come back into the present with me. You can take my hand, if you’d like?”

He stares down at your offered hand for a long moment before shakily unballing one of his fists. He hesitates, fingers trembling, before reaching out and placing his hand in yours. His skin is even colder than usual and slightly damp to the touch, and you couldn’t be less put off, or give less of a fuck about the messy state of him right now, or ever, if you’re being honest. You just want to help him, however you can.

You curl your warm fingers around his palm, wanting to pull him into a hug so badly but restraining yourself, letting him call the shots.

“You’re okay now, Star. You’re safe right now, here with me. We’re safe.”

He’s quiet for another long moment as he shuts his eyes tight, taking in your words. His other fist unfurls, and his body trembles almost imperceptibly.

“I… I’m sorry… I’m sorry…”

Your heart breaks.

“Honey, you have nothing to apologize for. Nothing at all, I promise you.”

He shakes his head in disagreement, his voice an insistent whisper.

“I shouldn’t be doing this.”

Your shoulders drop from where they’d been tensely held up, body slumping with a silent sigh as you watch him still try to hold this wall up between the two of you. You’d made it past a number of his walls already, but this one… this one you’ve yet to be granted access behind.

“It’s okay to cry, you know?”

Another shake of his head, this time with far more force behind it, almost vehement.

“No.”

You soften your voice, insisting.

“Yes. It is. You can cry now, Astarion. No one’s gonna hurt you. No one’s gonna judge you. I swear on my life, that’s the truth.”

His breaths become more labored, uneven and shaking.

“You aren’t his anymore. The old rules don’t apply. You can let it out, now. No one, and I mean no one, is going to punish you for it.”

His eyes pinch closed and his head shakes hard side to side, like he’s fighting his own mind, and his hand opens and closes like it wants to grab onto something. He then moves, wrapping his free hand around your arm and suddenly you’re being pulled toward him, desperately, insistently.

You follow the motion as he continues to tug at you, first leaning forward and propping yourself up with your other hand on the ground as he continues to pull you closer. You quickly gather what he wants as he lets go of your hand in favor of latching onto your other arm, pulling you upward, choking back tears all the while.

You raise up on your knees and his hands move once again to hook beneath your arms as you allow yourself to be pulled up onto his lap with physical strength you keep forgetting he possesses. Hooking your legs around his waist, you wrap your arms around his shoulders and pull him into you. His arms wrap tightly around your waist and he buries his face into the fabric of your shirt at the collar, muffling the soft sound of his crying which has now turned to full-blown sobs.

He’s still shockingly quiet in spite of it all, and you imagine it’s a mixture of being unable to let go of what’s ingrained into him, and not wanting to alert the entire camp to his current breakdown.

Your thumbs stroke up and down in place on his back, not wanting to let go of your hold on him but still wanting to give him some sort of comforting motion to focus on. Besides, you figure petting across the entire expanse of his scarred back might do the opposite of calming him down, so you refrain and keep your arms wrapped firmly around him. Turning your head down toward his, you whisper to him in between soft kisses to his temple.

“That’s it, love. Let it out.”

“You’re safe now, Astarion, I swear.”

“There’s nothing wrong with this.”

“I’m so proud of you.”

“You have every right to cry. No one ever should’ve taken that away from you.”

He grips you even tighter as you shower him with painfully unfamiliar affection and acceptance, comfort unlike anything he’s ever felt before in his horribly long life. His forehead presses against your right shoulder as his crying slows, trying to ground himself and catch his breath. You make a point of holding him securely against you, breathing slow and deep to give him an example to follow.

You catch movement in your periphery and glance over at Karlach as she quietly sits up and makes a series of silent lip movements and hand gestures that you don’t entirely grasp. You work them out to mean that she’s gonna take over watch for the rest of the night, and you can rest with Astarion. You send her a grateful look and mouth a “thank you,” to which she waves you off with what you think you read as a silent “don’t mention it” on her lips.

After a short while spent focused on slowing down his breath and bringing him fully out of his memories and back here with you, you whisper quiet words in his ear.

“Your work is done, Astarion. You can rest now.”

You mean it in both possible interpretations of the words, and he seems to understand that, his body finally relaxing against yours for the first time tonight.

“You wanna lie down with me, love?”

He seems like he almost nods, but stops himself, whispering back in an exhausted voice, scratchy and thick from crying.

“Someone has to keep watch.”

You hesitate to inform him that Karlach has already taken over that role for tonight, sure that he’d get no sleep at all if he knew she’d witnessed this. You know you’re gonna be awake watching over him for the rest of the night anyways, so instead, you offer a compromise.

“I can hold you and keep watch at the same time, love. Just… let me sit and you can lay against me.”

He gives the suggestion a moment of thought before nodding his head, reluctantly loosening his hold on you. You maneuver the both of you carefully so as to avoid allowing his tired eyes to catch sight of your obviously awake companion sitting behind him.

It isn’t much of a task considering his eyes are halfway closed already, his only remaining focus locked on you. You settle down at the head of his bedroll, guiding him to lie down and bringing his head to rest in the center of your lap.

Your hands take turns gently combing fingers through his white curls, and you feel his tense shoulders begin to relax at the feeling. You bring a thumb down and gently stroke over the lines creasing his brow, quietly encouraging him to release the tension he likely doesn’t realize he’s holding. You watch him pull in a deep, albeit still slightly unsteady breath, and you can practically feel the relief that washes over him when he exhales.

Words aren’t necessary between the two of you at this point, not in this moment, but you offer him a few anyways, hoping they’ll resonate in his tired mind as he slips into sleep.

“You’re safe here, Star. Rest easy.”

A/N: Like I said in the CWs, I haven't played the game for myself (yet!) so I only know what I've seen in the hours of (mostly Astarion-focused) scenes I've watched on YT. As a result, this might have read a bit funny if I've gotten certain details wrong. For instance- I have no idea how resting at the camp actually goes, whether or not someone keeps watch all night, etc. Also I'm not sure if Astarion even needs to actually sleep or if he meditates/falls into a trance and just calls it sleep, but for the sake of simplicity, (and me being clueless,) when I say he falls into sleep just assume he's doing whatever he'd normally do to rest. On a different note- this little fic was inspired by a combination of two things. The lovely art and additional commentary on this post, by @velnna , and also by me listening to Midnight Hour by Sierra Eagleson on loop for like, an hour, and daydreaming up this specific scene before proceeding to write it out. It is a beautiful song that is now the title and theme-song for this fic, and I encourage you to go give it a listen if you haven't heard it already. Header Image Source: x

#astarion x reader #astarion #baldur's gate 3 #baldurs gate 3 #bg3 #astarion bg3 #bg3 astarion #astarion fic #astarion fanfic #my writing #man. this may be the quickest turnover/turnaround whateverthewordis on a fic that i've ever made happen #i usually sit on an idea and then a draft for ages before posting smthn. so given that it's only been a couple days #between the initial idea and the finished posted fic. wow. groundbreaking speeds for me #the power of hyperfixation (and love)#y'know. i've noticed a trend #why is it that nearly every time i write for a new character the first scenario i place them in involves crying #and having Reader hold/comfort them #i did it with Eddie i did it with Venti i'm doing it with Astarion. who's next. who's next in the Reverse Comfort lineup huh #idk why that's my go-to scenario it just is. maybe i do have a type. (characters that need to have a good cry in their beloved's arms)#or maybe perhaps it is i that needs the good cry and i am projecting. who knows. 'tis a mystery (it's both)#anyways i know this fic is a bit short but i just. had one little specific scene i wanted to write and that's it!#i do plan on making more for him though. i've already got another idea brewing in my brain #also sorry if 'honey' and 'love' aren't your go-to pet names. or if you wouldn't call him Star #my own style of speech heavily influences what i have Reader say in my fics and i can't help itttttt. everything i write is self-insert lma #*lmao (i’m on mobile rn i’m not retyping all of that just to add the last letter)#(yes i’m posting this from mobile cause i took a nap and overslept and missed the time i wanted to post this at. so now i am In A Rush #smthn smthn self imposed deadlines smthn smthn ‘i know the guy that made the rules and he’s a total pushover’ anyways it’s fine. post draft

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myadmiringmind · 1 year

Text

Days at Home | Peeta Mellark

Peeta Mellark Masterlist

Genre: Fluff

Summary: A simple life has never felt so sweet.

Pairing(s): Peeta Mellark x Fem!Wife!Reader

Warning(s): Children (some ppl don’t like them), food, non-sexual nudity

Note(s):

Can be read as AU or not

Established relationship

Peeta and reader have children

Reader is able to have children

Children call reader “Mom”

|PICTURES ARE NOT MINE|

———————————————

You blink, your brain foggy as you try to figure out your surroundings. But you're half asleep so it takes a couple of moments.

All you can see is darkness, then you pick up on the warmth beneath you. Immediately you know it’s Peeta. His chest rises and falls as he sleeps peacefully, his heartbeat steady and soothing, and his arm curled around you protectively, making sure to keep you close to him.

Peeta is always warm. It also doesn't hurt that it's fall. You snuggle up into him, your face going into his neck. Everything about him makes you feel at home.

Even though you try to fall back asleep you know it won’t happen. You savor the last few moments before you’ll push yourself out of bed.

But when you try to get up, Peeta’s arms tighten.

“What’s wrong, baby?” His voice is laced with sleep and you know he’s only half awake.

“I’m going to get a shower.” You answer quietly

“What?” He uses his other hand to rub his eyes.

“I’m going to get a shower.” You repeat

Peeta looks over at the curtains so that he can glance outside, “The sun isn’t up yet. We can sleep for a couple more hours.”

You shake your head, “I tried but I’m already awake. Go back to bed, honey.”

Peeta protests, “Can’t sleep without you.”

“You sure? It’s pretty early.” You say

Peeta’s nod is barely noticeable in the dark, “Maybe the shower will wake me up.”

With a kiss to your forehead you hear the bed creak, Peeta’s loud footsteps, and then the overhead light is turned on.

You flinch from the sudden brightness and hear Peeta chuckle, “Sorry, baby.” He sounds amused.

The sound of his heavy footsteps can be heard while you rub your eyes.

You feel the familiar roughness of Peeta’s hand tilt your head up so he can give you a loving kiss to your forehead.

“I’ll go start the shower.” He says before disappearing into the ensuite bathroom.

You use the little time alone to pick out a pair of jeans and a sweater you like, you lay it out next to the outfit that Peeta chose for himself the night before. You laugh quietly at seeing the simple white button up with tan pants, he barely gets cold in fall.

“Better hurry unless we want to waste all of the hot water, sweetheart.” Peeta teases from the bathroom door.

-------------------

You and Peeta have been together for a little over ten years, so it’s only natural for the two of you to move in such a way that is familiar and routinely.

Peeta always lets you step into the shower first, he lets you soak under the warm water before it’s his turn. Then, he’ll pull you into his chest for a sweet hug, just letting the two of you bask into the warmth of each other. He’s constantly giving you kisses, on your shoulder, your neck, your face, or your face.

One time, you were running late for an event and had the misfortune of a quick shower. The usual intimacy the two of you shared was skipped over leaving the both of you feeling a little more uneasy.

In fact, it seemed to be the only thing driving Peeta’s mind as he would make little comments about his day not starting off right whenever given the chance.

It didn’t matter that you and Peeta were exhausted by the end of the day. The bath was still ran, and the two of you relaxed in there to make up for what you lost in the morning, even though both of you were on the verge of sleep.

Back in the present, Peeta’s hands rubbed up and down your back, making you shiver.

Your shower routine was done before you could savor it enough and Peeta was wrapping the soft towel around your body, effectively warming you up.

“We have a few hours until the kids are up, what’s on your mind?” Peeta asks, rubbing your arms for extra warmth.

“Food.” You answer

Peeta laugh echos in your bathroom and your eyes catch his grin through the mirror.

“Anything for you, sweetheart.”

———————————

Peeta is an expert in the kitchen.

You’re not bad, but it’s obvious which one of you is better. You can’t complain really, anything Peeta makes you love, maybe it’s because he’s grew up as a baker, maybe it’s because he puts his love into everything he does, or maybe it’s just because you adore him.

You can’t say that it was a quiet morning, with constant chatter between you two, laughs, and kisses, it wasn’t at all quiet.

While your breakfast is in the pan, Peeta puts on a record with music that had played at your wedding, he sways with you, grinning at each other even though you're moving too slow for the upbeat song.

“The little ones will be up soon.” You comment, seeing the time on the clock.

Peeta’s arms wrap themselves around your waist, his head on your shoulder, “Good, don’t want to have to reheat the food for them.”

It was the famous breakfast of fluffy chocolate chip pancakes, eggs, bacon, bread, and jam that you made from your fruit garden out back, and of course the bowls of fruit that you had picked freshly this morning.

“We should go wake them up then.” You said

You felt Peeta’s nod as he pulled you up the stairs.

—————————

Your eldest, was sleeping peacefully. You almost felt bad waking him up.

You moved to open the curtains letting natural light filter into his bedroom. You saw him stir at the sudden light.

“Hey bud, it’s time to wake up.” Peeta whispered, gently shaking him.

Your seven year old clutched his deer stuffed animal closer to his body.

You walked over, and sat on the edge so you could shake him.

“Rise and shine, honey.” You pressed a kiss to his cheek.

Slowly but surely, his eyes slowly opened.

“Dad?” He noticed you next, “Mom….is it time to get up already.” He mumbled

Peeta chuckled softly, “Yeah bud, we’ve got the whole day ahead.”

Your son only yawns in response.

“We made breakfast.” You offer, and your son pauses.

“What kind of breakfast?” He asks

“Pancakes, bacon, bread, jam, the whole feast.” Peeta answers

“Okay.” He pushes back the covers and stretches once he stands.

He gives Peeta a hug and a kiss first, then you bend down so he can give you one too.

“Let’s go wake up your sister.” You say, following your son out of his bedroom door with Peeta close behind you.

Your seven year old shuffles with his stuffed animal still in his arms. Your daughter's room isn’t far so it doesn’t take long before you’re standing outside her bedroom door.

Your son does a short courtesy knock before he opens up the door.

Like your eldests room, the curtains are drawn and the room is dark. Your son immediately goes to his sister's side while you make your way over to the curtains.

Like your son, your daughter scrunches her face when the light pours in. You laugh quietly at how similar they look.

Your son whispers his sister's name and shakes her a little roughly.

“Be a little gentler, bud.” Peeta advises

The boy listens and shakes her again.

Your daughter lets out a little whine at being woken up.

“It’s time to get up, there’s breakfast downstairs.” Your son says

Your daughter tears up a bit at the idea of getting up.

“Good morning, honey.” You say, coming up beside your son, and kneeling down.

Peeta sits on the edge of the bed and gives your daughter a kiss on the forehead. You move some of the hair out of her face.

“Don’t wanna get up.” Your four year old cries.

“But how else are you gonna eat pancakes?” You ask

She looks at you in thought, obviously debating her options.

Finally, she looks over at Peeta and raises her arms up, “Daddy!”

Peeta chuckles and lifts her up into his arms.

“Let's go get your little brother up.” Peeta says softly to the two of them.

This time Peeta is the first out of the room with your daughter in his arms, then your son, and with you following.

When you were just outside of your youngests room, you saw your daughter wiggle in Peeta’s arms. An obvious sign that she wanted down.

Your eldest once again gave a little knock on the bedroom door, and you even heard a happy giggle on the other side of the door.

“Come on, open it!” Your daughter urged her brother impatiently

“I am!” He responded

Peeta wrapped his arm around your waist and chuckled while you both watched them enter your youngests room.

Your one year old son was standing up in his crib with a happy smile on his face.

Your son and daughter ran over and said a chorus of good mornings.

You walked over and pulled your youngest out of his crib. Once you placed him on the ground he was given a couple hugs and kisses from his older siblings.

“Let’s go downstairs and eat bekfest!” Your daughter said, not quite pronouncing breakfast correctly.

“Hold my hand.” Your eldest offered his hand to his brother but the younger just walked a little past him.

“Doesn’t seem like he wants to hold your hand right now, but you can hold mine!” You grinned teasingly.

“I get to hold your hand all the time.” Your son countered

“I’ll hold your hand.” Peeta offered

“Who’s gonna hold my hand?” Your daughter cried

Peeta stooped down and picked her up with a little spin, causing her to giggle.

“I’ll hold you in one arm, and your mom’s hand in the other.” Peeta tickled her

“Sounds good to me.” You said walking over to the two blondes.

“Let us go down first mom and dad.” Your eldest said, finally getting your youngests to hold his hand.

“After you, bud.” Peeta encouraged

———————————

Breakfast was a blur of catering and attempted food fights. It only stopped when your seven year old declared he was going to get dressed and your daughter followed after him claiming that she wanted to get dressed too.

“I’d say that was a successful breakfast.” Peeta commented while eating a few pieces of fruit.

“I’m just glad they didn’t ask for cereal instead.” You laughed, taking the dirty dishes over to the sink. Since Peeta did most of the cooking you agreed to do most of the dishes.

“Mom!” Your daughter's voice cried

You were at the bottom of the stairs in a second, "What is it?”

“I can’t get this shirt on!” Her tiny lips wobbled from the top of the stairs.

“Okay, I can help, you want my help?” Your shoulders relaxed

Your daughter nodded.

“Everything okay?” Peeta asked, holding your youngest in his arms.

“Wardrobe malfunction.” You answered

Peeta nodded and went back into the kitchen.

“I don’t even like this shirt.” Your daughter commented

“You wanna pick out another one?” You asked

Your daughter nodded eagerly.

———————

You’d admit that you weren’t the most ecstatic at the idea of building a sandbox, the idea of having to clean all the sand off of them still gives you chills. However, it keeps them entertained and happy so you decide it’s worth it.

You and your husband laid on a picnic blanket, Peeta’s back against a tree and you in his arms. It had been decided that since you were already planning on spending most of the day outside, you might as well eat lunch outside.

Now, the picnic basket that’s used more than you would’ve ever imagined is closed, all its contents drained except for a few extra bottles of water.

With fall your flowers and trees were going dormant for the winter and you were already brainstorming flowers to plant in the spring.

“I’m thinking of Marigolds.” You comment

“Those are pretty.” Peeta says while stroking your hair.

“Do you think the kids will want to plant some?” You ask

Peeta shrugs, “I think they will, but you can ask.”

You let your gaze shift to the horizon and notice the sun going down.

“Should we bring them inside for dinner?” You ask quietly

“No. Let’s watch the sunset first.” He kisses your cheek

——————————

To no one's surprise your children were quite hungry. They ate so quickly you were worried they were going to choke.

After they were done they were already exhausted which made it quite the challenge to get them to take their baths.

Your daughter nearly fell asleep while you helped her change into her pajamas.

Then, without a single kiss she was out like a light.

Your sons waited patiently for their kisses though you could see your youngest fighting sleep. But, he was out like his sister after he got a goodnight kiss from you and Peeta.

Your eldest was the last to be tucked in, enjoying his hugs and kisses while the three of you chatted a little bit about how the day went.

One thing is for sure, they will be well rested by tomorrow.

As soon as you quietly closed the door to your eldests room, Peeta pulled you into a hug.

He purposely swayed the both of you a little, making you want to fall asleep in his arms. You had done your own share of running around today.

He pulled back with a kiss on your cheek but didn't remove his arms.

"I love you." He said quietly

"I love you too." You replied genuinely.

"Thank you." Peeta said, confusing you a little bit.

"For what?"

"For giving me a better life than I could've dreamed of, for allowing me to wake up next to you everyday, for loving me."

You kissed his cheek, "I couldn't not love you. I can't imagine another person who could make me as happy as you do, or make me feel as loved as you do."

Peeta's smile was so big and full of emotion that it made your heart soar, "I want to spend the rest of my life with you. No matter how short or long, I want to spend it with you."

"Well that's good because I also want to spend the rest of my life with you."

Peeta chuckled, "It's cute you think I'd ever let you go." He teased

"Just shut up and kiss me."

"Anything for you, sweetheart."

#the hunger games x reader #peeta mellark x wife #peeta mellark imagine #peeta mellark x reader #peeta mellark x you #peeta mellark fluff #peeta mellark #father Peeta mellark #the hunger games fluff #the hunger games imagine

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thatanimeramenchick · 27 days

Note

Yandere Alastor walking in on reader trying to escape? (Maybe like through an unlocked window or door or something)

Yandere Alastor x Escaping Reader

I really like this idea. Unfortunately for the reader, they're probably not going to have a good time.

----

“What are you doing, dearest?”

Well, to be perfectly honest, you had been trying to break out of Alastor’s chateau. It had gone about as successfully as one might expect though. Whatever demon plants he had growing around this house, they were certainly… friendly. They had wrapped you up nice and tight as your body half hung out the window. It had you stuck upside down, and your skirts were flowing open like a flower, your stocking clad legs sticking out like two stamen.

“I… leaned a little too far out the window,” you said.

You pushed your skirt up, trying to cover your legs.

“And you happened to lean so far out that you completely fell out and got tangled up?” he said.

“…. Yes.”

“Hm…” he walked around you, the thoughtful buzz of his voice filling the air, “Is that so?”

You thought you felt your heart stop as he cocked his head to look at you thoughtfully.

“You must have lent out awfully far. The plants are usually so docile,” he said, “You know, lying is a bad habit to get into.”

Docile, my ass. This thing would have eaten me if it could have.

You narrow your eyes at his chiding tone, but you probably look more clownish than intimidating. His amused expression is a dead give away for how ridiculous he thinks you are.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you say when you finally manage to find your voice.

“No? You don’t?” he said, “Perhaps I should let you stay out here until you remember. Though, I did hear there’s supposed to be a thunderstorm tonight. You’re smart though. I’m sure you’ll have it figured out before the worst of it hits.”

“But I didn’t!” you said, “I fell. I-I… I should have been more careful.”

He was turning away towards the door. Damn it. You really didn’t want to get left in the rain though, especially since you knew he was going to leave you out there anyway until you confessed. Might as well get it over with.

“W-wait! Alastor,” you said, squeezing your eyes tight. You didn’t want to look at him as you said this, “I… I wanted to go outside, and get some fresh air.”

When you finally managed to pry an eye open, he had turned back to you and walked over.

“And?”

Ugh, how this man tortured you.

“I was gonna just take a walk,” you said, “I-I was gonna come back.”

You could tell that despite his constant smile, he wasn’t sold on your little excuse. You decided to lay it on thicker.

“I swear! I wasn’t going to run away again! I wasn’t! It was just a little-’

“And what are you supposed to do if you want to go out?” he interrupted.

“… ask you first,” you said after a short pause, “But-”

“Ah, so you DO remember!” he said, “Clever girl. And run away? I didn’t even mention that. Unless you were thinking of it.”

“No! I wasn’t!”

“Then why did you bring it up? Ah, I told you not to lie to me,” he said, “Clearly, you were at least thinking about it if you brought it up.”

You knew it was pointless to argue with him when he was convinced of something. Besides, it’s not like he was wrong. You had planned a small walk, but if there had been even the slightest chance of escape, you would have bolted.

“… it might have been on my mind,” you finally concede.

“Such a stubborn little thing,” Alastor said,

He flicked your forehead with his claw.

“It never ceases to amaze just how mule headed you can be,” he said, more to himself than you.

He sighed before he conjured up a tentacle. He seemed mollified enough to get you out, and of course he wasn’t going to dirty himself up to do that. It untangled you from the vines, seized you by the waist, and yanked you back into the room. Before you knew it, you were slammed onto the floor as he released you just a little too soon. You could feel bruising forming beneath your skin, that would last for a few short hours yet were still painful. Groaning, you managed to stand up.

“I just don't understand why you insist on fighting me,” he said, more amusement than anger in his voice, “You and I both know you’re not going to win.”

You felt your claw like fingernails diffing into your skin, leaving an obvious mark.

“Well, maybe if you weren’t so controlling…” you started to mutter softly to yourself.

Apparently, there was more anger hiding inside him than you thought. You watched his hands tighten on his staff at your words, and his face darkened, eyes narrowing. Your heart sped up to that of a bullet train. You knew that look. The last time he had looked like that he had chopped off your hand, and you had had to wait for what felt like forever until it regenerated. You had to admit that it had been an effective mode of action, as you hadn’t dared to raise a hand to him since that day.

“I didn’t mean it like that! I just, it’s-it’s...” you said, voice sputtering.

Tears welled on the edges of your eyes. You don’t even know if they were crocodile ones or not. You’d faked them so many times to try to weasel your way out of things, Alastor related or otherwise, that they just came naturally to you at the first sign of trouble. After you were sure he had seen them, you buried your face in his chest, wailing.

“You don’t understand!” you wailed, “It’s so lonely when you’re not here. I miss you when you’re working. I can’t stand it, and I know you’re always so busy.”

“Sh, sh, I understand,” he said, running his fingers through your hair, “I know you get so bored in here. You must want to scream.”

Oh, thank all that was holy. You knew that Alastor tended to have a soft spot for a woman in tears, and he was taking this much better than-

“But being so rebellious like this… Dearest, it pains me to say this, but you really should know better. It’s like you’re begging me to punish me when you act like this,” he said.

You’re entire body went rigid as you felt his gentle petting turn into a firm grasp, keeping your face pressed into his chest.

“And darling, please believe me, it always hurts me much more than it does you when I have to do this,” he said.

His voice was so tender, you would have almost believed him. But no matter how gentle his tone, it couldn’t conceal the obvious sadistic glee dancing in his pupils.

#hazbin hotel #yandere alastor #alastor #yandere x reader #yandere alastor x reader

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lumosinlove · 14 days

Text

Vaincre

June part v

You and me Sunday driving

Not arriving, on our way back home

Finn couldn’t remember the last time it had been just him and Logan for more than a couple hours.

Leo had seemed content if not exhausted when he’d let them drive him to the airport to meet his parents. The fact that he had only packed his weekend bag made something settle in Finn. He still felt guilty about the way he had reacted. He was better than that now. He knew he was.

While they were saying goodbye in departures, Logan and Leo wrapped up in each other, Eloise had pulled Finn aside.

“Finn, honey,” she’d said. “We’ll take good care of him. He’ll be back to you in no time at all.”

Finn had smiled. “Don’t I know it.”

Eloise had just put a hand on his cheek. Those blue eyes saw right through him, just like her son’s. “I know my Leo. I know him better than anything or anyone in this world. And I know Logan’s going to be busy, but you give him a week at home with me, you let me take care of him, and then I swear, on my most secret sauce, he’s going to want you.”

Finn hadn’t known just what to say.

Finn opened his eyes in Logan’s New York bedroom. His realized that his head didn’t hurt. His shoulder ached a little but with none of the sharpness. Usually when he woke up he had to clear all the pain away with gentle blinks, water, and small rolls of his shoulder and neck.

Finn had taken Logan out to dinner last night and watched him laugh at his jokes and sip red wine. There was just something about Logan with a delicate wine glass in his hand. They’d curled up in bed and they had talked until they were too tired for complete sentences.He felt clear.

He felt good.

It only got better when he turned his head to look at the source of the soft, even breathing beside him.

Logan was beautiful in sleep. He always had been. His head, as usual, had migrated off of his own pillow and onto Finn’s good arm. Finn slept with two barnacles, and maybe sometimes he woke up sweating, way overheated, but he wouldn’t move them for the world. Careful not to shift his arm too much, Finn turned on his side and settled a hand over the dip of Logan’s waist. He was at the height of his strength right now, the season had done all of its work on him. Finn drew a thumb along the cut of muscles that slanted down from his hip bone, disappearing below his pajama pants.

Almost immediately, Logan stirred, thick eyelashes moving as he began to wake up.

“You know what I remember?” Finn whispered.

“Mm,” Logan said, still half-asleep. He hadn’t even opened his eyes yet.

“Every morning when I would wake up early for my run. You know, back at school. I would keep my eyes closed for a second. Because some of my mornings were good, but some of them were great.” He reached out for a perfect curl of Logan’s hair and gently pinched the end of it between his fingers. “Guess what the difference was?”

Logan turned his face so that his mouth brushed Finn’s skin. Eyes still closed. Face still the picture of peace.

“I’d look over across the room at your bed. Sometimes you’d have your back towards me…Those were good mornings, don’t get me wrong. You have a very nice back.”

A small smile overtook Logan’s face, even though he was still lulled with closed eyes—Finn knew his voice did that to him.

“But sometimes,” Finn said quietly. “You would be facing me. And I’d get to just lay there and look at you for as long as I wanted. Sleepyhead.”

Logan inhaled slowly and opened his eyes.

Green.

“Good morning, gorgeous,” Finn whispered. “It’s you and me today.”

Logan shuffled closer to him, freeing Finn’s arm as his head shifted to his chest. Finn curled his arm low on Logan’s back, dipping his fingers below the band of his pajama pants—Leo’s. They had pooled around his feet as he walked around the apartment last night.

“Take you on a date,” Logan said, voice deeper from sleep—Finn didn’t know why that happened but he hoped it never stopped. “Show you the city.”

Finn laughed. “You show me New York City.”

“Ouais.”

“Hm.” He traced a finger down Logan’s spine and felt him move into the touch. “Whatever you say.”

“I know it better now. Than you.”

Finn smacked him on his hip. Logan just smiled and pushed his face into Finn’s neck. He said something unintelligible in French.

“Par-don?”

Logan pulled back to look at him. “I say I love you in my bed.”

“Oh. Well, I fucking adore you, you know, wherever.”

Logan pressed a kiss to Finn’s mouth and then nestled back down against his chest, close to the thump of his heart.

Finn smiled.

“Are you smiling?” Logan asked from his nook.

“Yeah.”

“What?”

Finn didn’t answer right away. He slid his fingers through Logan’s hair. “Because I got you.”

Logan looked up at him, his chin propped on Finn’s chest.

“Nice not having the sling in the way,” Finn said, rubbing his thumb over the high of Logan’s cheek. “What’s that look you’re giving me?”

Logan just kept looking at him.

“What?” Finn laughed. “Hold still.” He brought his thumb up to ever so gently touch Logan’s eyelashes. When he pulled it away, there was a single, dark lash on the pad. “Make a wish.”

Logan looked down at the eyelash, then reached out and took it from him. With it balanced carefully on his own fingertip, he let it fall against Finn’s own cheek, a small, dark line among all the freckles.

“I don’t think that’s how it works,” Finn said, but his heart had picked up.

“Ouais.” Logan pushed forward, settling his weight on Finn’s chest but keeping it off his shoulder, and kissed him again. “Good morning, Rouge.”

“Morning.”

Logan pushed forward more to kiss Finn again, hand appearing from beneath the warm comforter to tangle in Finn’s hair. “Stay here for now.”

“Hm?”

“We stay here for a little longer.”

“Good,” Finn said, following it with a playful bite to Logan’s lower lip.

Logan made a slightly disgruntled sound. “My back hurts a little.”

Finn frowned. “Oh?”

“Not bad, but can you…” Logan gave Finn’s foot a little kick and Finn laughed.

“Yes, sir.” Finn reached down to dig his fingers into the hard muscle of Logan’s lower back. Logan groaned and dropped his forehead down against Finn’s chest. Finn smiled. “There?”

“How did you know? Fuck, that hurts—non, non, it’s good, keep, keep…”

“I know everything about you,” Finn whispered—his best attempt at creepy. Logan just went limp against his chest and let him ease the tight knot. “Jesus, Lo. Put some heat on that.”

“Ouais,” Logan said. He lifted his head again. “You do know everything about me, don’t you.”

Finn smiled. “Yeah. Now, what else can I do?”

Logan’s eyes brightened up a little. “I want to kiss you.”

“Oh, you’re looking for a little make out sesh?”

Logan wrinkled his nose. “Sesh.”

“Little college action.”

“Action?”

“As though we were in our old dorm,” Finn said, giving the mattress a thump with his good hand. “This bed’s bigger than that one.”

“Hm,” Logan laughed softly, looking over at the spare mattress. “Leo.”

“He’ll be home soon.”

Logan nodded. “Imagine how much time we would have spent just…in one of our beds. Back then.”

“Maybe we would have pushed the two of them together,” Finn said.

They could have. It sent a little thrill up Finn’s spine just thinking about it. Anyone who would have walked in their room would have known they were each others.

Finn tucked a curl behind Logan’s ear. “And we’re just all settled in. There’s no practice tomorrow…First day of summer. No homework.”

Logan rolled his eyes but he was grinning. “Percy’s gonna knock on our door and ask if we want to go to the bars, and we’re gonna ignore him…” He dragged his lips over Finn’s jaw to find his mouth again. “Because you’re such a good kisser. And I can’t stop.”

“Huh.” Finn’s hand smoothed over Logan’s hip, pushing the elastic band down closer to the swell of his ass. Smooth, tan skin.

“I never want to stop,” Logan said. “And Perc finally leaves us alone, and we get food delivered and we watch that show you love—what…I don’t know but we’re not watching anyway because I can’t stop kissing you…” His kisses were hard and relentless and Finn was on fire. The most perfect burn, whiskey-like. “You’ve been mine since the first day.”

Finn felt his brows draw together as he kissed Logan. He loved him talking like this. Everything in him loved it.

“I didn’t really expect you to play along,” Finn said.

“Not playing,” Logan said. “This is our life now.”

“Oh,” Finn whispered. “Oh, Lo…”

“Go to a bagel shop this morning?” Logan mumbled.

“I love the way you say bagel.”

Logan bit his lower lip and pulled gently.

“Bah-g-elle,” Finn whispered and hitched Logan’s leg up further over his hips. He knew it would stretch out his back nicely—and he knew he was right when Logan hummed happily. He moved his hand from Logan’s ass and dug two knuckles against the knot in his lower back.

“Yeah,” Logan breathed. “B-ay-gal.”

“No, don’t say it like me, say it like you.”

Logan bent to mouth over Finn’s mending shoulder. “Bagel.”

“Hm, yeah.” Finn snorted. “I really want Le to call and we’re just like, bah-gel, bay-gal, bah-bay.”

Logan laughed probably too hard at that, but Finn could tell they were both a little giddy. Logan was filling his chest up with happiness that was going to spill right out of him. Once he started laughing, he found that he couldn’t stop. Logan was shaking against him, hiding his grin in his neck. It got Finn going all over again.

Logan leaned back, smile wide. “Bah-bay.”

Finn put a hand over his eyes. “Oh my God, I can’t breathe. Bah-bay.”

“It’s not even funny,” Logan said, which sent them both into silent laughter again.

They quieted slowly, temples leaning together. Breathing in sync. This. This had never been in question—this part of them. Even in the times when Logan had taken Finn apart, told him no, told him nothing…Finn had never felt like they’d lose this part of them. Maybe that didn’t make sense, but it was true.

“You gonna win a Cup for me?” Finn whispered. He traced patterns on Logan’s back. A one and a zero. An L, E, O.

Logan nodded. “Mhm. Wr—r…” He sighed when Finn smiled. Finn felt kiss-stupid. “Rather win it with you.”

“Oo-wa-rather,” Finn whispered, and then took Logan’s chin between his fingers and melted Logan’s protests right out of his mouth. He kept Logan in place, kept the kiss gentle, tracing his tongue along Logan’s bottom lip. “I love everything you say.”

“How ‘bout them apples,” Logan mumbled and then cracked himself up.

Finn pressed his smile right into Logan’s cheek, making him turn his head to be caught in another kiss. “Mfh—okay, you’re just sticking your tongue in my mouth now.” Logan got back at him by licking a strip up his neck. Finn’s voice cracked when he said, “Weirdo.”

The bagel shop was one Finn hadn’t been to before. Logan had found it. He’d known Finn would love the black and white tiled floor and he had been right. Finn had scored them a table outside while Logan waited for their orders. Finn watched him through the window. He had taken two Advil and was stretching out his back when their order number was called. Finn caught the way the girl who handed him the bags looked at him. She and her friend had been watching the flex and stretch of his arms, too. Finn smiled to himself. Ha-ha-ha.

“Extra capers. Crazy.” Logan said when he sat down. He had two iced coffees as well. Finn’s was black, Logan’s was a light, light brown with milk. There were three sugar packets on the table and Finn watched as Logan ripped them open, popped the lid on his cup, and shook them in. Logan’s hair was still wet and he wasn’t wearing a hat. He had a sort of rust colored shirt, almost pink, and Finn couldn’t really stop looking at him. It was so different from his dark grays and greens. The breeze ruffled his curling hair.

“You look…” Finn said, then bit his straw between his teeth.

Logan arched a brow, unwrapping his bagel. He stuck a finger in his mouth when he got cream cheese on it. “Quoi.”

“Is that shirt new?”

“Ouais…” Logan looked down at it. “What’s wrong?”

Finn shook his head quickly. “No, no…You look good, baby.”

Logan didn’t look convinced and Finn laughed.

“No, I just never see you wear that color. I thought it was Leo’s. It surprised me. And—yeah, I just think you look good.”

Logan looked down at his bagel, his cheeks going a little pink to Finn’s delight.

“I went shopping,” Logan said grudgingly.

Finn’s eyebrows rose. Logan didn’t like clothes shopping. At all. Any other type, fine, but the kind where someone looks at you and tries to help you? No way. “Really.”

“Yes.”

“Really.”

“Yes.”

“Really…”

Logan huffed. “Finn.”

“With who? Alex?”

Logan took a big bite. He chewed. He took a sip of his coffee.

Finn gasped and slapped the table with his hands. The metal thrummed beneath his touch. “Oh. So Luke Deveaux gets to take you shopping but when I try—I see. Okay. I see.”

Logan was biting back a smile and Finn turned his chair sideways, away from Logan. Logan laughed and reached across the table to catch his hand.

“Non. You can take me shopping if you want.”

“Well, I don’t see a purpose to it now.” Finn was having fun with this. He angled his chin completely away from Logan and yanked his hand away with a flourish to pick up his coffee. “I see how it is.”

Logan groaned through his laugh. “Fi-i-nn.”

“He takes you shopping, he takes you running…”

With a scoff, Logan scooted his chair back. He stood over Finn. Finn put his sunglasses on.

“When Luke and I go shopping, we buy clothes,” Logan said. He leaned down, one hand braced on the back of Finn’s chair. Those green eyes didn’t let Finn look away from him. Not when he was this close. “We try on our different outfits and we’re in and out within the hour.”

“Good for you two. Very efficient.”

To Finn’s surprise, Logan turned to the side a little and sat himself right in Finn’s lap, all the warm, heavy strength of him. His arm went around Finn’s shoulders, the other flat-palmed against his chest. He could probably feel the way Finn’s heart picked up when he leaned in close and brushed his lips over Finn’s jaw. God, Finn hoped those girls were watching. Ha-ha.

“When you take me shopping…I want to pull you into the dressing room.” A soft kiss pressed to Finn’s neck. “I want to lock the door behind us and I want you to fuck me right there…” Another kiss. “In front of the mirror…” A gentle bite and, behind Finn’s glasses, his eyes slipped closed. “Where I can see how good you look when you’re about to make me come. When you’re trying to keep me quiet…”

Finn’s hand snapped to Logan’s hip. Logan smiled—Finn felt it. “You’d be so good at keeping your voice steady when someone knocks on the door…” Logan put on a slightly higher voice. “‘You finding everything okay?’” Logan pressed his mouth harder against Finn’s throat. “You’d be so good at it. ‘Oh, thanks so much…We’re fantastic.’”

“Logan.” Finn was starting to get hard in his shorts, pressing up against Logan’s thighs. He eased his palm over those strong thighs, fingers creeping up the inner seam of Logan’s shorts. Logan was sporting a semi and he knew Finn could see.

“So, please,” Logan said. “Take me shopping.”

And just like that, Logan was off of his lap. Finn swung his chair back inwards with a groan, shuffling his legs underneath the table. He took a sip of his iced coffee then held the cup to his cheek. “What the fuck.”

Logan returned to his own chair much more smoothly. God, if he had looked good in the dark pink a second ago, it was nothing compared to how he looked with that color flushing his cheeks. Finn needed a second. He picked up his food and tried to get his insides to stop throbbing.

“If it was one of those doors,” he said around a bite, “that don’t go all the way to the floor—”

“That would be so embarrassing,” Logan said, then grinned. “For the person who caught us, I mean.”

Finn just shook his head. “You liar. You’d be so nervous.”

“Try me.” Logan took another bite of his bagel and Finn swore, he swore, Logan made a show of licking the cream cheese. Logan looked at him all the while, green eyes playful. Finn didn’t know what unimaginably hot thing was going to come out of his mouth next. Did he want to go to the bathroom right now? Did he want to go home? Did he want to go shopping? Because Finn would. He would.

“Bah-bay,” Logan said.

Finn laughed so hard he dropped his coffee.

They had cleaned out their lockers. They had said see you at the lake to Remus’ parents. They had had one last dinner with as much of the team as they could—minus any New York stragglers—Kasey, Finn, Leo… They closed up their Gryffindor House. Sirius’ eyes had followed Remus around as he filled out his checklist. They had a final breakfast at their diner spot before hitting the road. Julian had been standing on the wrap-around porch, waving both of his hands as they pulled into the driveway. The grill had been going, his father raising the tongs in salute.

“Mm,” Sirius said, turning off the engine. “I’d kill for your dad’s steak.”

Remus laughed as he popped the door. “You know, I think he’ll just give it to you easily enough.”

After everything, those first two days felt like a fever dream. Afternoon swims. Sirius’ smile in the campfire light, laughing at something his mother had said. Sirius, wrapped up in the old-as-time blankets, snug in the bed Remus had been sleeping in since he was a child. Julian and Sirius tossing a football on the beach. Playing street hockey in the driveway. Watching people recognize Sirius in the little harbor breakfast spot—and, Remus had to keep realizing, watching them recognize him. Sirius’ big hands around a sharpie as he knelt to sign a little kid’s shirt.

Remus was now in the kitchen mashing up avocados for guacamole while his mom mixed a pitcher of margaritas. The dining room table was covered with place cards, flower combinations, and menus from the restaurant down the road. In just over a month, they’d bring their grills to the house for pulled-pork. They’d mix huge bowls of coleslaw, they’d chop up watermelon and make it into ice cream during dinner. Remus hadn’t had any time to worry about these things, and then suddenly he’d had nothing but time. Thank God for Hope Lupin.

“So, Lily and James are arriving in a week, right?” Hope said. “And Harry of course.”

“Yeah,” Remus said. “Sirius thought Harry would love the beach.”

“Lakes are good for babies,” Hope said. “Nice shallow water. Easy to watch. I always loved bringing you and Jules here. It’ll be sweet to see little Harry again.”

The back door slammed and Remus looked up at the sound of Julian’s laugh. He saw his mom smile.

“Shoes off!” she called. “No sand in the house, please! Or you’re doing the sweeping!”

There was a scuffle of shoes coming off and hockey sticks being leaned against walls, and then Julian bounded into the kitchen. Sirius followed a moment later.

Remus didn’t even think Sirius was making a show of how he leaned back against the refrigerator, sweating. “Jesus, Lupin.”

“Yes?” Remus said.

“Non,” Sirius panted. He jerked his chin at Julian. “That one.”

Remus raised his eyebrows. “Julian Lupin? Did you beat up my boyfriend?”

Julian swallowed a long drink of water and raised his eyebrows right back. “You mean your fiancé?”

Sirius laughed, using his t-shirt to wipe his face. Remus let his eyes catch on his stomach for a moment.

“Yes,” Remus said. “I mean my fiancé.”

“Then yeah,” Julian said. “I did.”

“He did,” Sirius agreed. When Julian wasn’t looking, Remus raised an eyebrow, and Sirius’ grin gave him away.

Sweetest boy on Earth.

“I’m going to take a shower if I have time?” Sirius said, eyes on Hope.

“You certainly do,” Hope said. “We’re on lake time, honey! Woo!”

“D’accord.” Sirius paused as he passed by Remus and settled a hand on his hip. “Salut, mon amor.”

“Hi,” Remus said.

“Be back soon.” Sirius pressed a kiss to his neck and disappeared towards the stairs.

“Re, will you take the clothes in from the line and bring them upstairs? I think it might rain a little tonight. Julian, finish up that guacamole, hon.”

“Kay,” Julian said. “Can I have a sip of a margarita?”

“You can have a baby one because you’re my baby,” Hope said.

Julian rolled his eyes, but he kissed her cheek. “Thanks, Mama.”

On his way out, Remus kissed her other cheek.

Outside, the breeze did smell a little like rain, but the sun over the lake felt like summer. The wind was warm. The small nets were still set up for Sirius and Julian’s game of hockey. Remus walked around the side of the house towards the lake and found the clothes swaying in the breeze. A few of Sirius’ t-shirts hung together. Worn Lions ones from seasons past. Remus took one down and held it. He remembered this from Sirius’ second season. He brought it to his nose. It smelled like Sirius and like the cottage. Like the lake air and the detergent his mom used here.

Remus could have wrapped himself entirely in that smell.

He heard the shower cut off right as he reached the top creaky step. He set Julian’s clothes on his bed, his parents’ on theirs, and brought the basket into their own bedroom. He set Sirius’ shirts on the bed to fold. He was laying out a sweatshirt that hadn’t quite dried when the Sirius came in with a towel wrapped around his waist. Like always, he stubbed his toe on the frog-shaped metal doorstop.

“Merde,” Sirius cursed.

“You think you would have learned by now.”

Sirius nudged the heavy metal frog a little under the old dresser. “Me too.”

Sirius stole a shirt off of the pile Remus was folding. Remus watched quietly as he dropped his towel and shook it through his wet hair a few times. He’d gotten it cut before they left. He had a bit of a tan line, the part of his neck which his hair had covered was pale, but the sun would change that soon. The summer would change change many things. Sirius’ body still held every ounce of muscle built up throughout the season. Remus knew what each ridge and valley felt like. His shoulders and back looked like heaven in the light coming through their bedroom window. That would soften over the next months.

Sirius turned once he’d pulled his shorts on and laughed. “You keep staring.”

Remus looked down and smiled. “Oh, I just like your haircut, that’s all.”

“That’s all?”

Remus eyed the way the t-shirt stretched across his chest and shoulders. “You’ve got play-off shoulders going on.”

Sirius stepped towards him. He tossed the sweatshirt Remus was holding away and settled his hands on Remus’ hips. “So do you.”

Sirius’ kiss was heavy and slow. They hardly broke before a new one sent Remus’ head spinning.

“Remus!” Julian’s voice called up the stairs.

Remus didn’t reply. He wrapped Sirius up tighter against him. The bed creaked as Sirius pressed him against one of the posts. The wooden carved flower dug into the small of Remus’ back but Remus didn’t care. He felt like they hadn’t been alone in decades. Regulus in Gryffindor, his family here…

“I wish…” Remus panted as Sirius leaned down to kiss his neck. “You’re so…” His eyes slipped closed.

“Re-mus,” Julian called. “Mom won’t let me have a margarita and chips until everyone’s here.”

“Okay, okay, okay,” Remus whispered, sounding almost forlorn to himself. With all his strength, he gave Sirius’ chest a little push. Sirius barely moved and Remus caught a flash of his smile when he dragged his mouth along Remus’ jaw to kiss him again.

“Remus!”

“Yeah—one second!” Remus called down, hoping he sounded at least a little normal.

“It’s been like fifty seconds!”

“On our way, Jules!” Sirius called—then he went right back to kissing Remus. Long, deadly-good kisses that made Remus feel like he was about to lose his footing. That was a good move, though. Julian never talked back to Sirius.

“Okay, cool!” Julian called back, much more happily.

Sirius laughed softly. Remus pushed his hands under Sirius’ shirt and rested his forehead against his shoulder. He spread his palms over Sirius’ stomach before sliding them around his hips to his back.

“Is this helping you?” Sirius asked. He was standing there almost patiently, dark eyes amused.

“Not even a little, but it’s nice anyway.”

Sirius took Remus’ hands in his and kissed his knuckles. “Allez. We’re holding up dinner.”

“What took you so long?” Julian dug his chip into the guacamole and sighed happily as he chewed. At least someone was satisfied.

“Sorry, I was getting dressed,” Sirius said. “Re was just putting away the laundry.”

“Jules,” Lyall laughed. He’d come in from the garden. “Leave them alone.”

Julian seemed to think this over. “Do you guys want to play another hockey game after dinner?”

“Sorry, Jules, Sirius is all mine after dinner.” When Julian stuck his tongue out at Remus, Remus did it right back. Beneath the table, Sirius took his hand.

#Vaincre lumosinlove #sweater weather lumosinlove #remus lupin #sirius black #sports au #finn o'hara #Logan tremblay #finnlo

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beyondthesefourwalls · 1 year

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Remember You Even When I Don't (3)

Summary: A training accident, the doctor had told him. A nasty one that led him here, laying in a hospital bed with a splitting headache and an inability to remember the woman sitting beside him. What he did know, though, was that you were the most beautiful woman he had ever seen, and you felt important to him. That, as it turns out, would become an understatement.

Words: 4.7K

Pairing: Bradley Bradshaw/Reader (no use of y/n, so can be read as unnamed oc)

Warnings: angst, hospitals, memory loss, language.

Notes: The response for this continues to blow me away. Thank you all so much! Hearing your thoughts about these two makes me so happy and is so encouraging to write a little bit faster. Please continue to comment and reblog, and my inbox is always open!

This was inspired by a one shot by the lovely @roosterforme and would not exist without her assistance. If you haven't read any of her stuff, please check out her masterlist - you won't be disappointed!

Part Two

_________

He dreamt of sparkling lights and cobblestone streets. When he roused consciousness, he thought he could smell pumpkin candles and freshly baked chocolate chip cookies.

He woke slowly, chasing after the smell and the visuals as they evaporated from his view. He blinked several times, adjusting to the fluorescent light and white walls of his hospital room.

“Well well well, look who decided to wake up.”

It took a moment for the words to register in his mind. He looked to his left, where he had grown accustomed to seeing you sitting, only you weren’t there this time. Instead, he saw someone he recognized very well, smirking at him like only she could.

“Sorry for keeping you waiting,” he grunted out as he adjusted himself on the bed and raised it up so he wasn’t lying down as far, making it easier to look at her.

“You look like shit,” she continued.

Bradley snorted. “Thanks, Phoenix. Appreciate that.”

The smirk on her face fell into a soft smile. She reached out and laid her hand on his, squeezing gently. “It’s good to see you, Rooster.”

“Yeah, it’s good to see you too,” he nodded, and he meant it. “How…long has it been?”

Like she usually did, Nat knew exactly what he meant, and he was grateful he didn’t have to explain. “For me? Five days. I hear it may be a little longer for you, though. Based on the date you told the doctor, it’s been six months since I was sent to Korea without you.”

“Five days? So…”

“I was in the air with you when you went down,” she confirmed. “We’ve been stationed here together for almost three years.”

“Lucky you,” he murmured as he rolled this new information over in his head. Learning that he was stationed in San Diego, Fightertown of all places, as part of a permanent detachment at Top Gun was a lot for him. The last place he remembered was D.C. But learning he had been with Phoenix here the whole time, for three years, brought another question to his mind. He took a glance around the room, even though he knew they were alone.

“We finally talked her into going home and taking a shower about an hour and a half ago. One of the guys might con her into taking a nap, too.”

The coffee cup from the day prior flashed in his mind again. “We?”

“Mhm,” She hummed, meeting his eyes again. “It’s not just you and me anymore, Bradshaw. We found ourselves a whole, big ass family here. Imagine that, huh?”

He could always count on Nat to never beat around the bush with him. He never knew how much he appreciated it until now, when he had never felt so out of the loop before.

“Anyone I know?”

She barked out a laugh, her eyes shining with something that looked like mischief. “Oh, Rooster. I don’t know that you’d even believe me if I told you.”

“That bad, huh?”

She was still laughing when she leant forward, speaking like she was sharing a secret with him. Bradley supposed that in a way, she was.

“What would you say if I told you Bagman has been here to visit you everyday?”

Bradley’s face scrunched up in disbelief, “Good joke.”

“I told you that you wouldn’t believe me,” she said, her voice very much taking on the I told you so tone that she was so good at. She picked her phone up from her lap, scrolling for a few seconds before handing it over to him. There was a picture displayed on the screen of a group of people all donning their traditional green flight suits with an F/A-18 in the background. And there, right in the middle with his signature smug grin, was Jake fucking Seresin, arm wrapped around Bradley’s own shoulders like it was completely normal to do so.

“Well I’ll be damned.”

“Tell me. What’s more shocking? Hangman being your best friend, or finding out you have a wife?”

She was teasing him, Bradley knew, trying to ease some of the obvious tension in the room. He looked at the picture again, trying to place names with faces. He recognized Payback and Coyote, and Harvard and Yale, but the rest were unfamiliar to him. He studied it for another moment, but no memories came with it. There was a flash of disappointment when he handed her phone back to her.

“Pretty even, I guess.”

Despite his words, they both knew it wasn’t really even. He had known Hangman for a decade and the rivalry had never really been more than that. But you, on the other hand…you were something Bradley never anticipated or thought he’d have. He’s still in shock at your existence, still something more than perplexed at how you made him feel even if he knew little more than your name.

“This is….a lot, Nat. I have a wife. A wife and a whole life I don’t remember.” It was the first time he had said it out loud. His voice cracked, and his eyes stung, but he knew she would never use it against him. “This is crazy.”

Her face was sympathetic now and she reached back out to hold his hand again. “You’ll get through it, Bradley. I know you will. We’ll all help you. Especially her.” She said it with such certainty that he almost believed her.

“Can you tell me about her?” he asked her tentatively, and Nat shrugged in response.

“It’s not my place to tell you your entire love story with her,” she said. Bradley couldn’t hide his disappointment.

“What I will tell you though,” she continued, and he perked up just the slightest bit, “is that you two are ridiculously happy. And you love one another more than I’ve seen two people be capable of loving one another, and my parents have been married for like 40 years. You, her, and Florence are the perfect little family and we all make fun of you for it on a regular basis but it’s just because we’re jealous.”

Her words made him feel better, but then he replayed them in his head and felt panic course through his body. The heart monitor beeped a little faster. “Florence? Who is Florence? Nat, do I have a kid?”

By the way she bursted out laughing, he assumed that no, he did not, or her sense of humor has seriously changed in the last four years that she would find his panic at the thought funny if it were true.

“No,” she snorted, “not as far as I’m aware. Florence is your cat. You call her Florry, most of the time.”

His sigh of relief was so deep that it hurt his still very broken ribs, but it was worth it. Waking up to a wife he didn’t remember was one thing. He didn’t know if he could handle forgetting a child on top of that. Hell, he could barely handle all of this as it was.

“I don’t remember her,” he started, and despite him stating the obvious, Nat was quiet as he worked out his thoughts. “But I feel like I know her. That’s…that’s crazy, right?”

“I don’t think so,” she shrugged, “You do know her. Better than anyone. Your mind may not remember her, but that doesn’t mean that you don’t.”

Bradley considered her words for a moment, feeling like he got punched right in his broken ribs.

“Yeah,” he croaked, “I feel like I do.”

Phoenix smiled at him sadly, giving him a moment to breathe before she started talking again. She spoke about the last four years of his career. He was stationed in D.C. when he was sent on a six week deployment to Belgium, only to be pulled out of that halfway through for a special mission out of Top Gun. It led to all of those that were called back to form a new unit with this as their homebase.

“The Dagger Squad?” he questioned with a snort. Natascha hit him gently in his arm, but he winced anyway just to mess with her as they’ve always done. “Ow.”

“Jokes on you, asshole. You were the first one to say it and it stuck.”

He groaned. “Of course I was.”

She talks him through how he was promoted in 2020, nearly a year after being stationed here. Lieutenant Commander Bradley Bradshaw, she had teased. She had since been promoted as well, but he got it before the rest of them. He felt a certain level of satisfaction in that. They had done additional missions together, deploying for mostly short stints when necessary, and had taught a few Top Gun classes of their own.

Their crew was close, like family. Some of them had been in the air with him when he went down days prior, while the others remained in the tower. They all searched for him and made sure he was found, unwilling and unable to leave him behind.

They had been here everyday since his accident, rotating out in shifts so that you were never alone, staying until the nurses kicked them out at the end of the night. Bob, one of the ones in the photo that Bradley didn’t recognize, had been down in the cafeteria getting you both food when he had woken up the previous morning. It warmed him, knowing you had people here for you when he had been unconscious. That there was someone making sure you ate and drank water and slept. It was important to him that you weren’t alone.

Coyote and Hangman had been the ones to drive you home this evening. You had agreed only if Phoenix stayed in case he woke up, so that he wasn’t alone.

“She thought you would appreciate seeing a face you recognized,” she explained, and the thought that you were that considerate nearly took his breath away. He did appreciate it, more than he thought. The two of them talked for a long time, but Bradley felt himself missing you. There was an ache in his chest that was getting harder to ignore. He found himself looking toward the door and at the clock near the window. The sun had gone down hours ago. When the nurse came in a little while ago to check on him, she had warned Nat that visiting hours were almost over.

“Everything alright?” Nat asked him, noticing how his gaze was wandering and he was taking longer pauses between responding to her. “Pain okay?”

There was an ever present ache in his head and his ribs hurt, but it wasn’t anything he couldn’t handle. It wasn’t what he was focused on right now.

You were upset when you had left the room earlier. He still wanted to know who you were talking to and what the doctor had said to you and to just know you. He was starting to get anxious that you weren’t coming back.

He didn’t like the thought. Your presence soothed something. Anytime you were in the room with him, he felt a little less outside of his own skin. You had said the day before that there was nowhere else you would be than beside him, so he had to believe you wouldn’t leave him alone tonight.

“Fine,” he muttered, deciding to keep the thoughts to himself, too embarrassed to ask after where you were and when you were coming back. He suspected that Nat saw right through him, but gracefully, she moved on. Even when another thirty minutes had passed and the nurse came in again, informing the two of them that visiting hours were over and she was hugging him goodbye as gently as she could, he didn’t say anything.

When the door closed behind her, he realized it was the first time he had been alone since he woke up in this bed the morning before. Being on his own had never bothered him before. He had always preferred solitude over anything else, yet this felt strangely empty. Lonely, even. Your face was there at the forefront of his mind. He found himself wondering what you were doing right now. If you had ended up taking that nap at home and if you were okay. His heart ached remembering the broken look in your eyes yesterday when he didn’t know who you were and how distraught you looked with the doctors and nurses earlier.

He wished he would have had the thought to ask Phoenix for your phone number. He had no idea where his own cell phone was, but the old corded phone in the hospital room could certainly dial out if he needed to reach you.

He wondered if this same sense of longing had happened so quickly the first time around, too.

He wasn’t sure how much time passed as he thought about you, but his ears picked up on hurried footsteps making their way to his door. They barely paused before it was thrown open, but grabbed before it could hit off the wall.

The tightness in his chest eased when he saw you. You paused in the doorway when you saw he was awake and looking at you.

You looked more frazzled than he had ever seen you, not that that was a lot, but it still unsettled him.

“Are you-”

“I’m so sorry,” you blurted, making your way into the room after you gently closed the door, almost as to make up for your brash opening of it. The notion almost made him smile. “I went home to take a shower so you could talk to Nat and I ended up falling asleep. I didn’t mean to be gone for this long.”

“It’s alright,” he assured you, but the frazzled look didn’t go away. Seeing it made him forget all about how distraught he almost was that you weren’t here. “Try and convince me differently all you want, but I bet an actual bed was a lot better than this chair. I’m glad you got some sleep.”

You gave him a small smile and it made him feel something akin to pride to be the cause of it.

The smile slipped after a moment. You twisted your ring on your finger, your eyes cautious. You looked small, and he didn’t like that. You cleared your throat before speaking.

“Your doctor, he uh, he told me I should give you some space. That I might be overwhelming for you? But I didn’t want you to be alone. That’s why I had Nat come, but non-family members can’t stay overnight so…”

A flash of anger hit them then. He had known when you walked back into his hospital room when the doctor had requested your presence outside that he had said something to you. He should have known after he had made the comment about you leaving the room during his consultation that it was something to do with that.

“He didn’t have a right to say that to you.”

“Bradley-“

“Just because I don’t remember you doesn’t mean you don’t exist,” he said, his voice firm, and he heard the breath you sucked in.

His tone softened with his next words, “And even if I don’t understand it, I want you here. I mean…as long as you still want to be?”

It didn’t occur to him, before, that maybe this was too much for you. He was your husband who had been in the hospital for a week who woke up not remembering who you were. Maybe you needed some space. But you were nodding your head before he could overthink it too much.

“I do. I told you, I wouldn’t want to be anywhere else. But I want to do what’s going to be best for you more, okay? I know you don’t know me enough to trust me right now, but I need you to promise me that if it ever is too overwhelming for me to be here, you tell me, okay?”

That was the thing. He did trust you. It was a feeling deeply rooted in his bones that he could trust you with anything.

“I promise,” he said instead of telling you what he was really feeling. The emotions were too raw, too jumbled, and he hadn’t made sense of them yet.

“Alright,” you nodded. You finally made your way from where you had been standing at the end of his hospital bed over to the chair beside it. A pressure lifted off of him when you sat down.

Yes, he thought, that’s better.

“How was your visit with Phoenix?” you asked, kicking your tennis shoes off and curling your legs up underneath you. You were in another pair of black leggings and another oversized pullover, UPENN displayed across the front of the dark gray material. Your hair was down again, and he decided he liked how the color looked against your skin as you pushed it out of your eyes. You raised your eyebrows at him and he realized he must have been staring.

He cleared his throat, fighting off reddening cheeks. Damn.

“It was good,” he admitted. “She caught me up a lot; told me about being stationed out here and the squad we’re on. She kinda laid out the last four years of my career for me.”

“Congrats on your promotion,” you joked, and Bradley found himself letting out a surprised chuckle at your humor.

“Did she say anything specific? About the mission you were called for that got you stationed here?” you asked. Bradley shook his head.

“She didn’t go into many details. Why?” You let out a long, low breath, and Bradley felt his stomach knot. “Is there something else I should know about it?”

“Yes,” you nodded, “and it may not be easy for you to hear, but..well, it’s important. Kind of a big part of the last three years of your life.”

That could mean a lot of things. He tried to stamp down all the worst case scenarios that played around in his head and watched you fiddle with the phone in your hand. You paused, took a breath, and then handed it over to him. Your fingers brushed against his when you did and the spark it sent through him made him take a second to realize what it is he was looking at. His breath caught in his throat when he did.

Staring back at him was the two of you. You were both smiling, clearly happy, with you tucked into his side like you belonged there. On his other side, he had his arm thrown around the neck of someone he hadn’t seen in years. At least that he could remember. He couldn’t pinpoint what he was feeling. A decades worth of anger and bitterness, he supposed, but the underlying hurt and regret that he always tried to not acknowledge were there too. If he focused hard enough, there was even the smallest flicker of hope.

“I don’t understand,” he muttered, still staring at the picture.

“You asked me earlier who Pete was, when you saw the name on my coffee cup,” you reminded him, “not many people call him that, but I do.”

You went on to tell him an abridged version of what sounded like a mission report. Mav was their mission leader and he was his wingman. He got shot down trying to save him, and Bradley disobeyed direct orders to go find him, where he was then shot down trying to save him. It ended fine. They clearly made it out, with some assistance, and had taken a lot of time to work through things. They had completely rebuilt their relationship in the last three years and by the looks of them in this picture, it was hard not to believe you when you said they were stronger than ever.

“I know how badly he hurt you, and that hearing this might bring up those feelings,” you whispered, your voice sympathetic but not pitying, which was something he appreciated more than he could say, “but the two of you love each other so much. When the time came, you were ready to forgive him. It may be hard to believe, but I wouldn’t lie to you about this. I promise. He’s family. To both of us.”

“He’s been here?” Bradley brought himself to ask, and though he already knew the answer based on the sharpied evidence on a plastic coffee cup, the nod you gave him in response winded him.

“Everyday,” you confirmed.

Bradley nods slowly, processing your words.

“I don’t…know that I’m ready to see him,” he finally said.

“That’s okay,” you assured him immediately, “you don’t have to right now. But I didn’t want to keep it from you, okay? I don’t want to keep anything from you.”

He looked away from the phone he had been staring at to meet your eyes, and he knew that you were being sincere. Your eyes were earnest, your expression open, and he was blown away that anyone so beautiful would look at him like that. He let out a breath that was shakier than he would want to admit before he handed your phone back to you.

“Are you tired?” you asked him, and he shrugged his shoulders. He was, truthfully, but this was the longest conversation the two of you have had; he wasn’t ready for it to end.

“Tell me something else,” he said instead.

“What would you like to know?” you asked, clicking your phone off and setting it on the table near his bed.

“You,” he said instantly, not needing any time to think and not second guessing his honesty, “I want to know you. Us.”

Your smile was shy, and your cheeks bloomed again, drawing your bottom lip between your teeth as you nodded. His heart raced in his chest again. “Alright.”

______

Listening to your voice had quickly become one of his favorite things. The two of you talked for a long time that night, and he grasped onto every detail you gave him.

You were a few years younger than him. You worked in journalism, covering politics and policy, for the most part completely remote from your home here in San Diego. You grew up in Philadelphia (the Eagles sweatshirt was yours) and were the only child of only children. You weren’t overly close with your parents, but you didn’t seem bothered by it, either. You loved spicy food and sour beers, and things always got a little interesting when you indulged in too much white wine. You had adopted Florence, the adorable brown tabby that you proudly showed him pictures of, when you moved to DC all on your own, and Bradley was apparently the only man the cat tolerated.

The two of you hosted board game nights or dinner parties on a regular basis, and it had surprisingly only ended in a physical fight between him and Hangman once in the last three years.

The night nurse came in for her rounds and was surprised to see him still awake, but he refused additional pain medication when she offered it because he wasn’t ready for how they would inevitably put him to sleep.

He wanted to know everything about you.

“Tell me how we met?” He requested.

Your smile was soft, like you liked how the memory made you feel.

“We were both subjected to the ‘single guest with no date’ table at a wedding,” you revealed. Bradley wracked his brain and remembered a save the date he had sloppily stuck to his fridge in his DC apartment. He asked if that was the one you were referencing and your smile grew as you confirmed it.

“We met in Philadelphia?”

“We did,” you laughed, “which is incredibly ironic, considering we were both living in DC at the time.”

It sounded more like fate, but Bradley kept those thoughts to himself for now.

“Did I ask you to dance?” he asked, almost certain of the answer considering where they ended up years later, but to his surprise, you shook your head. His eyes widened. “You’re kidding.”

“I’m not,” you swore with a chuckle.

“I was at the same table with you and I didn’t even ask you to dance?”

You threw your head back with a full laugh, and Bradley was sure if they pulled the data from the monitor he was still hooked up to, it would show that his heart skipped a beat at the sight.

“The rest of the people at the table were admittedly not that nice, and when we realized that we weren’t that bad, we ended up escaping and sitting outside at one of the cocktail hour tables for the majority of the night.”

He wished he could remember what you looked like that night. He wondered what color dress you wore, and if you had your hair up or down, when he was apparently not dancing with you.

“That seems like a crime,” you flushed at the words he mumbled mostly to himself.

It was difficult for him to comprehend that he had someone in his life like you, but it wasn’t hard at all to see how he fell in love with you as quickly as he must have. You were beautiful outwardly, but he was seeing you were even more so inwardly, as well. You were funny and witty and kept him on his toes, and he was sure he hadn’t even scratched the surface of you yet.

The more he learned, the more infatuated he became.

It was nearing two in the morning when your yawning became more frequent amongst your conversation. Watching your face scrunch up every time it happened was adorable, and he wondered if you were as unwilling to go to sleep as he was. The bubble of storytelling you had found yourself in was warm and comforting, but he finally took pity when you started rubbing your eyes under your glasses. The urge to somehow take care of you was brewing inside of him. He wanted to be selfish, but he had kept you up long enough.

“We should get some sleep,” he murmured. Your hair fell in your eyes when you nodded and he found himself wanting to tuck it behind your ear for you.

“Are you in any pain?” you asked. You were worrying for him, despite how tired you obviously were. He had been shown more concern in the last 48 hours than he could remember getting in the last decade; his heart ached at the thought.

“It’s not so bad right now.”

“I can get the nurse.” You were already rising to do so, and before he could stop himself, he reached out to grab your arm. You froze from your position half raised out of the chair. Your wide eyes flickered down to his hand before meeting his again.

Bradley swallowed deeply, but didn’t let go. He couldn’t stop his thumb from gently rubbing your skin through the thick material of your sweatshirt.

“I’m okay,” he whispered, “promise.”

The breath you let out was shaky, but you nodded. Without disconnecting from him, you pulled your chair just the slightest bit closer to his bed with your other hand, but you didn’t move to sit down yet. Instead, you took a step closer and leaned down to press a gentle kiss against his forehead. Your scent invaded his senses and he suddenly felt dizzy again for a completely different reason. You lingered for a moment and he reveled in it.

“Thank you,” he didn’t quite know what he was thanking you for, but he needed to say it. His voice was thick all of a sudden, feeling overwhelmed with the influx of emotions he was feeling.

You just smiled at him, and he released the hold he had on your arm so you could settle back into the chair that had become your temporary residence for the last week.

“Goodnight, Bradley.”

-------

Notes: Things are starting to pick up with these two! The next part is when we really get into the fun stuff, I think :)

Tagging those who asked or interacted. I think I caught everyone, but I'm very new to this so apologies if I missed you! Please let me know if you'd like to be added or taken off this list :)

Tag List: @roosterforme - @mak-32 - @hoyaharper - @wildxwidow - @gretagerwigsmuse - @bradshawburner - @iamaslytherin0 - @lilyevanswhore - @too-fangirl-to-fuction - @fav-fanficssss - @benhardysdrumstick - @fandomxpreferences - @acatwriteshere - @1234-angelika - @double-j - @cocoskween - @sunflowersteves - @teacupsandtopgun - @littlezee80 - @sometimesanalice - @je-suis-prest-rachel - @khaylin27 - @infamous-reindeer - @hotch-meeeeeuppppp - @sarahjoestewy-blog - @sunnysidesidra - @notroosterbradshaw - @yanna-banana - @inthestars-underthesun @avengersfan25 - @wkndwlff - @zbeez-outlet - @lt-spork - @indynerdgirl - @loveforaugust - @mssleepy876b

@kassieesworld - @luckylexie - @lovemesomevesey - @mizzzpink - @books-for-summer - @a-serene-place-to-be - @deviltsunoda - @tv-fanatic18 - @memoriesat30 - @melody-death - @imnotcreativeenoughforthisblog - @dabisblackprincess - @pansexualwitchwhoneedstherapy - @realdirectionx - @waywardhunter95 - @myownworstenemyyy - @sexualparkour - @sadpetalsstuff - @almostgenerallyalways - @hawsx3 - @nogoodchamberskid - @alilstressyandlotdepressy - @ebonyhogan24 - @14readwritedraw96 - @ccbb2222 - @taytaylala12 - @haideehaids - @alittlechaotics-blog - @starkleila

@shelbycillian - @mavrellover91 - @vici111 - @merishfit - @plaper1 - @lunamooncole - @eclecticfashionbookszipper - @pariahsparadise - @bunny-nonnie - @blackwidownat2814 - @huang-the-geek - @jpgliv - @topaz125 - @bluelicious - @loveyhoneydovey - @pisupsala - @nuvoleincielo - @littlemiss-n - @olivezeppelin - @jynxmirage - @shanimallina87 - @ouralcohol

#bradley bradshaw x reader #bradley bradshaw imagine #bradley bradshaw x oc #bradley bradshaw #top gun fanfiction #tgm fanfiction #bradley rooster bradshaw #bradley rooster bradshaw x reader #rooster fanfic #rooster x reader #Bradley bradshaw fic #alli writes #Bradley bradshaw x female reader

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a-dumb-sarcastic-bisexual · 10 months

Text

AO3 is down and so is my Wi-Fi so I’m writing Nimona headcanons to cope

When Nimona is in a bad mood she usually wants attention and affection so she’ll shift into her cat form and sit on Bal and Ambrosius

She knows they would never move her even when she’s in her human form but she feels like being a cat is just a bonus

The first time she sat on Ambrosius' shoulders when she was in a bad mood he cried for like three hours

When Bal has a bad day he goes nonverbal and collapses on the nearest comfy area

He doesn’t care if it’s his bed the couch or a pillow on the floor he’s laying their face first and not moving until he feels better

It’s not uncommon for him to come home and just plop down on the couch even when Nimona and Ambrosius are sitting there

And they won't move him either they kind of just accept their fate and continue what they were doing to the best of their abilities

When Ambrosius has a bad day he cleans

Like obsessively

He won’t stop until every surface in the house is spotless and there isn’t a single dust particle in sight

The only room that he stays out of is Nimona’s (half out of respect for them half out of fear of what he would find in that room)

Most of the time when he feels like the house is up to code he’ll be too tired to move let alone think

And that’s when Bal and Nimona set up their super secret evil plan

Bal forces him to get comfy on the couch while Nimona plays his favorite movies and gives him his favorite snacks

It’s truly diabolical but it’s also what Amrbosius does for them when they’re in a bad mood so they feel no guilt

Sometimes when he’s feeling especially shitty Nimona will shift into a dog and let him cuddle them like a big stuffed animal

So I was just reminded sometimes cats will sit on your injuries and purr because they think it makes you feel better (and as a cat owner I can confirm it does)

When I remembered this I was thinking that Nimona would subconsciously shift into a cat and lay on Bal’s arm or Ambrosius' shoulder when they’re in pain and just purr

And they swear that it helps every single time (kind of like a mom kissing her kid's injuries)

Ambrosius will always use people's full names when he’s pissed at them

I don’t know when this idea popped into my head but I’m just imagining Bal and Nimona chilling outside until they hear “Ballister and Nimona Boldheart get your asses inside now!” from their house

And their neighbors watch as some of the most powerful people in the realm scramble to run inside

Most people would assume that Nimona would either stay where they are out of spite or fly away

But they’re so caught off guard because Ambrosius always calls Nimona “Nim”

Plus he’s made Ambrosius mad enough times to know that if he apologizes enough times and makes Bal give him the patented “Puppy Dog Eyes™” he’ll fold like a lawn chair

Nimona calls Ambrosius “nemesis” for two reasons

The first one is he thinks his name is stupidly long (and Ambrosius agrees) and the second reason is he thinks it sounds cooler (he agrees again)

Plus it’s also hilarious to imagine Nimona yelling “Nemesis” while running full speed at Ambrosius and then tackling him

Sometimes they knock him on his ass and sometimes he picks them up and puts them in air jail

#nimona 2023 #nimona movie #nimona headcanon #nimona #ballister boldheart #ambrosius goldenloin #ballister x ambrosius #goldenheart #before anyone mentions that Nimona's pronouns keep changing believe me I know #it's intentional #I'm so bored #I just want to read fanfiction about my dorky children #is that too much to ask #I'm fully convinced that Bal and Ambrosius would adopt Nimona #and she would take Bal's last name cause obvi #Ambrosius isn't far behind

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comphetkoncass · 7 months

Text

little fic about tim's love language being contingency plans

////

The thing is, Tim has a way of attacking Kon’s problems like a puzzle. Like a riddle, waiting to be solved.

Tim’s plans also don’t involve much feeling, usually, even if the issue is purely an emotional one. While Tim is decent at listening and empathizing, at a certain point he always gets his Robin face on. A signal that, while he’s still certainly listening, there’s a chemical reaction in his brain, completely out of his control, that activates his detective skills. His problem-solving skills.

It has taken Kon a combined two lifetimes, four years, five collective identities, and two–maybe three?–timelines, but Kon has finally gotten Tim to at least ask before starting to strategize. But lately, Tim has undergone some personal growth, and Kon is starting to wonder if, perhaps, he has learned to not even ask. To instead, politely wait for a signal – a sign, an invitation, even– that said advice is actually wanted.

Kon would like to take the credit for training him, he really would. But he has a feeling he’s only one of many factors.

Today, Kon is sitting face-down on Tim’s bed. Krypto sits on top of Kon’s back, the world’s most powerful emotional support dog pinning him in place. Preventing him, more like, from leaving before he's gotten all his complicated, messy, unwanted feelings out. Also preventing him from looking up at his boyfriend before Kon is done feelings-dumping, because otherwise Kon just won't finish talking, and it will go unsaid.

So Kon can’t see it; he can't see the detective face for himself. Can’t verify, for sure, absolutely, 100%, that TIm’s detective face is on.

But he knows it’s there.

He’s just spent half an hour talking about his latest identity crisis. Of course Tim’s detective face is on. It’s probably been on since minute two.

However, Tim is also running his fingers through Kon’s hair, and making the occasional appropriate comment, always generous and rational and kind, always active listening, and– listen, Kon isn’t immune to the soft victim support voice. He’s definitely not immune to the Robin leader voice, but the softer, empathetic, gentle one Tim uses with people who need help? And when it bleeds in so subtly into his regular speaking voice that it’s not immediately obvious that’s where he pulling it from?

Incredible. Show-stopping. Kon could listen to it all day, if he wasn’t the one monopolizing the conversation by info-dumping all his problems.

Finally though, he finishes the garbled, soft, self-deprecating speech about how he’ll never be completely free of Lex’s braingook (yes, that is the scientific name for it, thank-you-very-much) and how that means he’s always going to have a chip on his shoulder until Lex dies and even then Kon’s going to have to worry about some secret chip in his brain that transfers Lex’s consciousness to his or what-the-fuck-ever.

He can hear the comment Tim wants to make. The unspoken, soft little, 'You know, we could probably test you for that... A chip would definitely show up on an MRI...'

Instead, Tim only pauses the briefest, softest moment. “...That must be really stressful for you, worrying about that.”

Kon looks up, just a little. Sees Tim’s best poker face.

Then sighs, and bids the victim comfort voice goodbye. “Okay, I give in,” he says, and moves to cross his arms in Tim’s lap instead. Krypto lets out an annoyed little huff at being jostled from Kon's back, but he soon hops off Kon’s back and moves to lay at his side instead. Kon rubs him behind the ears, Krypto butts his head against his hand, and all is well again. “C’mon, out with it.”

“Hm? Out with what?” Tim asks, still in the same plaintive tone. “What do you mean?”

“Relax, you can stop the sympathy. I know you want to start strategizing how to solve all my problems,” Kon says, and leans up in what he hopes is a very kissable position, because he really wants one. “You’ve suffered enough, I know you’ve already thought through eighteen different plans.”

Tim lets out a shuddering breath, immediately sagging his shoulders. “Thank you,” he says, sounding exhausted. Distracted, and clearly already thinking of how to phrase his plans, he meets Kon halfway for a kiss. It's even a proper kiss, soft and sweet, and it really does make Kon feel better. Then, to his surprise, Tim also presses a more tender one just between his brows. “I really do empathize, though. Just so you know. This isn’t me not empathizing. But I mean, if you're giving me explicit permission it's not like I haven't been starting to think about how we could test for these and help you stop worrying about them-”

Kon shakes his head, fond and sweet. “I know. Your love language is solving people’s problems for them, I've accepted this about you."

Tim looks the tiniest bit offended. "I- that's not a love language."

"It is for you," Kon says. Then, he grins, looking up at his boyfriend through his lashes. "So come on. If it's your love language... Show me you love me.”

Tim’s cheeks bloom red. But he smiles instead of shying away, then runs his fingers through Kon’s hair again, gentle and sweet. “Get comfortable then, because I’ve got a lot of- love to show. To finish the metaphor, I mean. There’s only five so far, but number three is kind of complicated, you're going to want to take notes, but I could summarize it again for you afterwards, when you're less cozy-”

Yeah, Kon thinks. There’s no denying how much Tim loves him. He might be a strategist at heart, but Tim also wouldn’t make immediate contingency plans for just anyone, either.

Kon curls up on Tim’s lap soon after, with Krypto snuggled up onto his chest. As long as Tim keeps stroking his hair, Kon doesn’t mind the clinical approach to his problems. It’s nice to have a boyfriend who can both meet him where he’s at, and say what he really feels. Even nicer, he thinks, to know that it’s all coming from a place of genuine affection.

#timkon #cdw writes #kon-el #tim drake

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kissagii · 11 months

Text

Don't Let Go - After a rough day, Shidou needs a good long hug.

cw: gn!reader, 0.8k words, food + eating mentions at the beginning, established relationship, shidou is probably ooc, he's emotionally struggling and a pouty baby.

a/n: i was thinking about shidou and his trivia and idk my brain vomited this out

The first indication that something is wrong is the dinner gone cold on the table. Half past ten, the clock reads, and the only light in your apartment is the lamp above the dinner table where you sit and wait. Across from you sits a plate of now-cold beef and a limp salad. Your own meal had been eaten nearly an hour ago, when hunger overtook your patience, and while it was miserably cold, it was better than nothing.

By the time the door finally creaks open you were contemplating giving up on waiting. For four hours you sat in that hard wooden chair, leaving only briefly to clean the kitchen and refill your water.

“Welcome home Love,” You call toward the entryway, “There’s dinner waiting, do you want me to reheat it?”

You’re met by an uncharacteristic silence: no shouting, not even whispering. Only the shuffling of shoes being removed and the dull thud of a bag being unceremoniously discarded until the morning.

“Ryusei? Is everything alright?” You call again, finally standing up to look for your boyfriend. The silence doesn’t bode well - it means you’re either about to get pranked or something has gone horribly wrong, and by his late arrival home you can assume it’s the latter.

Moments later he comes sulking into the dimly lit room, and never did you think a boisterous six-foot-tall man could look so small. His posture is hunched, but not in the carefree way it usually is, and for what feels like the first time ever his mouth is shut. He doesn’t even offer a smile as he heads toward the bedroom, bypassing the dinner table entirely.

Again you ask him if he wants to eat, to which he responds with a resigned, “nah,” and continues making his way to bed. At the very least his lethargic state allows you to cut in front of him, forcing the unsettlingly somber man to stop and confront you.

“Are you alright, Ryusei?” Instinctually you reach out to pat his shoulder reassuringly, but you stop yourself before you can make contact. He’s probably volatile. Shouldn’t push it. He stares at your hand where it’s awkwardly frozen, halfway between you and him, shaking back and forth in a war between instinct and reason.

Harshly he pulls you into an embrace, arms wrapped so tightly around your chest it feels like he might break a rib. You return the gesture gently with what little force you can muster. His breath, barely audible, shakes.

When it becomes clear that Shidou has no intention of letting go of you, you whisper to him, “Hey, Ryu, what’s up?”

“Don’ wanna talk ‘bout it,” He mutters, squeezing even tighter around you. Had he been any other man the bite in his tone would’ve been worrying, but to you it was more relieving than anything. Whatever happened wasn’t bad enough to completely extinguish his fire, and that was more than you could ask for.

“Alright,” You whisper, running your fingers through his hair, “But… could we at least lay down? It’s late, you must be tired.”

His reply is weak. Soft. Almost scared. “Don’ wanna let go.”

Your heart nearly drops. At a loss for words, you freeze. Because, despite the tiredness in your bones and the sweet call of the comfortable mattress, you don’t want to let go either.

“It’ll just be a moment. And as soon as we lay down you can hug me all you want. Promise.”

Shidou’s grip on you loosens, and you loosen yours in reply. It’s like a dance, slowly separating yourselves until after a brief eternity you can no longer feel his warmth against you. Neither of you wants to step away, to start the stage where the other is just out of reach and seems a million miles away.

He takes a step. You take two. As soon as he’s close enough he collapses onto his side of the mattress, waiting anxiously for you to join him. You follow suit, and the moment you’re within an arm’s length he latches onto you with an iron grip, face buried into your shoulder. Though your boyfriend largely impedes motion, you manage to wrap your arms comfortably around him, giving his chest a reassuring squeeze.

“Please don’t let go,” He mumbles, voice muffled by the fabric of your shirt. But even still the message is clear.

“I won’t, Ryusei, I promise.” You rub slow circles on his back, a comforting reminder of your presence - and your willingness to stay with him through the night and still through the next day and the day after that. “I love you, Ryusei.”

His reply comes out choked. “...Forever?”

“Yes, Ryusei, forever.”

i'm a firm believer in the softie shidou agenda

#imagine ⋆｡°✩#shidou x reader #shidou #shidou ryusei x reader #shidou ryusei #blue lock x reader #bllk x reader

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deathbecomesthem · 4 months

Text

Ready, Steady, Go

MINORS DNI - STRICTLY 18+

*This is a reupload from my old blog. If you think it looks familiar, it's because it probably is.

Part 2 of Three's Company

wc: 2.8K

Pairings: Steve Harrington x Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader Everyone is about age 30 in this one, think mid to late 90s. This chapter is Steve Harrington x Reader smut.

A/N: This is a Steddie x Reader story, but this chapter is the first time that Steve and the reader are intimate with one another, one on one, without their mutual lover Eddie.

Contains: Poly relationship dynamics, smut (oral and vaginal), and lots of feelings. It's so soft guys.Keep reading

---

Steve and Eddie have maneuvered through their relationship quietly. They’re still long time roommates to many of the people in their lives. They don’t hide themselves away, but they don’t invite many people in either. It’s not just for their personal safety, but their emotional well being is a priority. Sometimes, it’s too much to bear to think about losing a dear friend or family member for just being who they are.

What no one had really considered before opening the relationship to add you in was the fact that you made it possible for them to go places together that otherwise might be viewed with suspicion. There was no point in focusing on the injustice of that, bitterness can turn a good thing sour. No one wants that. The three of you are finding ways to fit your lives together, and so far it’s been shockingly natural. With love at the center, the rest seems to just fall into place.

So, why are you so nervous right now? A weekend alone with Steve isn’t something out of the ordinary - but this is the first time the two of you will be alone since you’ve been intimate. Eddie has always been there until now. What if there’s nothing without your shared love to hold onto? It’s a niggling fear that flits to the forefront of your thoughts when you least expect it. What if this is the way the end begins.

You’re sitting in the chair in the corner of Eddie’s bedroom watching him pack his bag. He’s leaving in a half an hour, Eddie’s never been good at planning ahead. Unsaid concerns have turned into a lump in your throat. You can only sit and watch him move from the closet to the bed, snapping his fingers together when he remembers an item or two that he almost forgot to pack. And then he breaks the silence.

“What do you and Stevie have planned this weekend? I’ll miss you two so much.” Eddie’s tucking a fourth pair of black jeans into the corner of the suitcase, far too many for the three days he’ll be gone. He’s likely to forget to pack any socks, but have enough pants to last a month.

“Oh,” you pull your legs up to rest your feet on the edge of the chair. You’re pulling yourself in, making yourself small, “I don’t know. We haven’t talked about it. I might just spend some time by myself.”

Eddie slows his movements and sighs a little to himself before saying, “I thought it might be nice if you two spent some time alone together.” Eddie moves toward you, and drops down to his knees in front of you. He lays his head in your lap, “I know you both, and I love you both. I see it, ya know? There can be more between the two of you, if you let it happen.”

You don’t respond, but you let the words roll around in your head while you run your fingers through his hair. Yes, he’ll only be gone for a couple of days, a short weekend trip to visit Wayne and go fishing, but you ache at the thought of his absence. He is your heart. For him, you will try. And for yourself, too.

—

Steve comes home an hour after Eddie’s already gone. You make a point to be sitting in the kitchen with a pot of oolong when he walks through the door. A loaf of banana bread is cooling on a wire rack on the counter, a treat you know he can’t resist.

“Hey,” Steve’s smile is wide when he catches sight of you. He kicks his shoes off by the door and heads over to kiss your head in his usual greeting. “Oh, ho ho, is that what I think it is?”

“Mmm, yes it is. Fresh out of the oven. Look at what a good little homemaker I am.” You flutter your eyes at him and smile. “Let’s have some and spoil our dinner. I made tea.”

Steve immediately gets to work pulling out small plates from the overhead cupboard, and setting the butter dish on the kitchen table. You see him breathe in the smell of the bread deeply when he cuts the first slice, it’s still warm enough that steam rises from the loaf when the knife cuts through it.

You love seeing him like this. Steve finds the joy in these little things, and even before the dynamic shifted between the two of you, offering Steve little treats was always one of your favorite things.

“I don’t know what I did to deserve this, but I’m not complaining.” He sits down and melts into the chair. His glasses fog when he takes his first sip of tea. You’re studying him, watching the way he tastes the bread and drinks his tea. You watch the muscles in his jaw. You watch him suck the crumbs off his thumb. He really is very pretty.

You ignore the fear inside you, and do what feels natural. You sneak your foot over to his, and rub the arch of his foot with your big toe. He grins at you through the still foggy lenses. His other foot rubs the side of yours. This game of footsie while you eat banana bread at 5:30 on a Friday evening feels more intimate than when you swallow each other's moans under the covers of Eddie’s bed.

“What do you want to do tonight, Steve?” You pinch the top of his foot with your toes in conjunction with the question. Playful and light to hide the anxiety. Because you don’t have plans with Steve tonight, and you don’t have the kind of comfortable relationship that you and Eddie share where time together is a natural thing that just happens.

“Tonight? Oh, I don’t know,” there’s genuine surprise in his voice, as if the idea that the night might come never occurred to him. “What about you, Honey? Think you might want some company?”

Honey. The name is warm and sticky, it sends a tingle down your spine. It’s better suited for the man sitting across from you, with his gold flecked irises and the amber highlights threading through his graying hair. Never mind his sticky sweet nature.

“That would be just the thing, Stevie. I’m already lonely with our sweet muppet gone. We can keep each other company, hm?”

Steve sits up straight, lighting striking him, “Oh! I know what we can do.” He jumps out of his chair and strides over to the drawer next to the dishwasher. He fiddles around in it, and pulls out a paper menu. It’s the place around the corner that Eddie hates. You tried to make him love the unique dish that reminds you of home, but he turned his nose up at it. The same man that eats Vienna sausages and Velvetta won’t even try a plate of the surprisingly complex dish that is Cincinnati chili.

“You just scored big points, Stevie. Throw in a couple of cannoli from Angelo’s, and I’m yours forever.”

—

With full bellies, it was natural the way you fit into his side while the blue glow of the television screen played your favorite John Hughes film. Steve’s hand runs up and down your arm, but his eyes stay on the screen - he loves these kinds of movies, and it’s rare when he can enjoy them without the moaning of your shared boyfriend. For you and Steve, this is an experience neither of you realized you were missing. It’s warm and lovely to be with him like this. Quiet and secure. Held. And you want him more than you thought was possible. You want his hands on you.

You’ve been in the dark with Steve and Eddie. You’ve shared the heights of pleasure with them both. But you and Steve have yet to cross the line into lovers. You’ve mapped Steve’s beautiful body with your eyes, your mouths have met in passionate kisses while Steve’s cock is inside of your boyfriend. You wonder, will he have you?

This is when you decide it’s worth the risk of rejection to see if he also wants to see where the night could take you. You turn your head and look up at his face. You can see the moles scattered across his skin under that blue light, and you speak.

“Stevie,” your voice is a whine, betraying the sudden need that’s building in your gut, “you look so pretty right now.”

The blue light of the television screen across the room flashes in the lenses of his glasses when he whips his head to face you. You can’t see his eyes, they’re obscured by the glare. Steve leaves nothing to the imagination, he doesn’t make you wonder. He takes off the acrylic frames and searches your eyes. Satisfied with what he sees, he smiles as he cups your face and leans down to kiss you.

Slow. The eagerness is there, it would be a disappointment if it was missing, but it’s slow. He’s tasting you, savoring the flavor of your lips - red wine, salty popcorn, and mint lip gloss. You think you could stay like this, open mouths searching one another, teeth scraping soft lips, forever and never tire of it. A wide palm instinctively finds the bare skin at the small of your back, a thumb strokes your spine.

“Steve,” the word released into the air between your mouths makes him dizzy. “Stevie, please.”

Steve breaks the kiss to rest his head on your forehead. The air between you is heavy and humid. Your eyes, blurry from the closeness of your faces, bore into his. Any question either of you may have had about whether there is something between the two of you without the affection of your shared lover evaporates into the air with your shared breaths.

“I want to see you, Honey. You’re so pretty.” Steve closes his eyes when he tells you this. And you think, how could I deny a request like that from this man.

His eyes remain closed as you stand. You take your hand in his, and pull him to his feet. Neither of you realizes the film is still playing on the screen in the living room as you lead him down to the room at the end of the hallway. Your room.

Steve stands and watches you while you undress. He’s seen you this way before, many times. He’s never failed to see the beauty in your form, but it’s different right now. Quiet. He can watch the way your hands move. He can see the muscles flex in your shoulder as you reach behind your back to unhook your bra. He can see each soft curve of your skin and admire them.

Eddie isn’t a distraction. Eddie is a force of nature. Eddie is the sun. It’s easy to be blinded by him. His absence tonight allows the light to stay low, it allows movements to slow. It allows you and Steve the space to look at each other and spend the time. Your only regret is that Eddie can’t be a fly on the wall to see these quiet moments between the two loves of his life.

You don’t feel insecure as you kick off the small piece of fabric from your ankle, letting your black panties hit the shin of Steve’s jeans. You feel powerful. He’s eating you up with his eyes. You can practically see smoke leave his nostrils when he huffs through them, lips tight. His jaw is clamped, while you crawl onto the bed, allowing him a full view of your slowly swaying ass.

“Jesus Christ. You’re gonna kill me.” Steve is still standing at the end of the bed as you present yourself, laying on your back, legs spread. Your hand roams your chest and stomach, dipping to the soft pubic hair - touching the places where you wish his hands would search.

“Stevie. Are you just gonna stand there?” Your words are soft. A hand grasps one of your breasts, squeezing it. Desperate to feel something. The open air between the two of you is too much. Steve doesn’t bother with his own clothes, his fingers are aching. They’re empty, and are desperate to feel your soft skin.

Slow. Deliberate. A steady hand travels down the valley of your chest, long fingers brushing gently across your skin. Gooseflesh erupts along their path. You’ve been holding your breath in anticipation of his touch. His attention. He’s focused on only you tonight for the first time, and you are full.

“Your skin is so soft.” Steve’s voice breaks the silence, and you release the air from your lungs. “Look at you.”

You can’t look at yourself, so you look at him. The moonlight sneaks through the blinds, reaching out for him. Bathed in moonlight, you see everything. You see him. You smell him. You feel him. Even now with his lust clouded mind, his hands are steady and searching.

Featherlight touches travel past your navel. Your breathing hitches when he gently strokes against your already swollen clit. He continues to the silky smooth lips below, and runs up and down. He delights in every one of your hitching breaths, a crooked smile spreads across his lips.

“You’re wet, Honey, and I’m so thirsty. Can I have a drink?”

You open your mouth to respond, but you have no words. He doesn’t wait for them, he dips his head down. He smells you. He’s smelled you before against Eddie’s skin, but from the source it’s intoxicating. He opens his mouth and keeps his eyes on you while he takes his first taste.

Steve hasn’t tasted a woman in years. He hasn’t missed it, not really. Right now, though, he cannot believe how sweet you taste. How soft your thighs feel. He can’t get over the way the fine hairs on your skin stand up with every little touch he offers. His fingers sink into the flesh of your ass as his tongue moves. You’re so slick. He can feel the way your little button grows under his tongue. His cock aches to feel you around him.

Not yet, Steve, he reminds himself. He can feel you shuddering under him. He can see your eyes flutter. He needs you to come. You’re close. He closes his lips against your clit, and sucks gently while running his tongue against you with a persistent pressure.

Gone. You’re gone. You can feel fingers digging into the soft flesh of your ass, keeping you from floating off the bed and into the air. You can imagine yourself drifting off through the vastness of space fueled by the ecstasy you feel. Your body trembles. You cry out for him, you cry out for your Stevie. Your sweet boy.

Your cries of his name undo him. His lips are still attached to you, still letting you ride out your orgasm while one of his hands unzips his pants. His cock aches. The immediate need, releasing the painful constriction of his jeans, isn’t enough. He needs to be inside of you. Your eyes finally meet his again.

“Please, Steve. Please. I need you inside me.” Your begging is met with a groan against your cunt. His lips let go, and you see how red they are. Swollen from their work. You rock against nothing at the sight. The slow and steady movements are gone now. Steve throws his shirt - pants - socks - boxers - to the side with speed. He’s laid bare in front of you, a marble statue brought to life.

Your legs open to receive him, and he slots between them. Steve fills you up with the first thrust, and you’re seeing stars. You’re vaguely aware of the sound leaving your throat, something between a moan and a cry. Steve’s hand is in yours, a thumb runs against a finger in a soothing way. You both sink into each other. You both feel everything.

“You’re so soft.” Steve’s soft whisper against your neck vibrates against your skin. “So soft. You feel so good.”

Soft words are contrasted by rough thrusts of hips desperate to push your bodies to connect as deeply as possible. Mmm, so good. So fucking good, Stevie. Steve is gone. He can’t be reached now. He’s lost in the soft flesh of your body under him. He’s used to the sharp angles of Eddie. His mind is gone, his body is moving on its own. He can feel how close he is already, lost in your warmth.

It’s not a lightning crash. Not an earthquake. It’s soft, like every other moment between the two of you. Steve’s face in your neck, his hand gripping yours. He comes undone with your scent in his nose, and your taste on his lips. His hips slow, and you pull him tighter. You hold him close to your sweat slicked chest. You let him rest there, on your pillowy skin, bodies still joined.

That’s how you stay that night. Holding one another, leaving the mess you both made for the daylight hours. When you wake in the morning, you find that Steve’s hand is still holding yours.

#eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson smut #steve harrington smut #eddie munson x steve harrington #steddie x reader #steddie x reader smut #steddie x you #eddie munson #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x reader

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abbyromanoff · 1 year

Note

Mommy reader's warm milk sucked by wanda ?

Mommy’s Day

Pairings: L!Wanda Maximoff x Mommy!Reader

Word count: 2292

Warnings: smut, mommy kink (sexual and non sexual use), fingering, mommy!reader, age regressing, fluff, praise kink, nicknames, breastfeeding, lactation kink, mentions of chubby!Wanda, insecure Wanda, teasing, public sex, grinding, dry humping, innocence kink

A/N: I made this in like an hour and a half so if there’s some mistakes and shitty writing that’s why. Happy Mother’s Day everyone!!

No one is permitted to steal, copy, or reblog my work as their own!!

Wanda had woken with a large smile on her face that morning. It was finally the day, the day she got to celebrate all that you had done for her. Mother’s Day.

It had been nine months since you two had started a relationship. At first, it was simple, you both would go on dates every now and then which then turned into her nervously asking you to be her girlfriend. She had always been a shy type, and you adored it. You were her first real kiss, her first girlfriend, and her first time. You didn’t take advantage of her innocence or how naive she was, you only cooed at her and told her how much you loved her constantly. She had never been so open with someone as she was with you, and she’d get to show you how much she appreciated that today.

You were usually the first out of you two to wake up, but she made sure to secretly turn off your alarm last night. You didn’t what was to greet you when you woke up, but you weren’t complaining either.

You walked up behind the younger girl as she tried her best to not burn your french toast, she was so concentrated that she didn’t even hear your quiet footsteps. You wrapped your arms around her waist and laughed as she jumped with a gasp.

“Mommy! Don’t scare me like that!” You kissed her neck a few times in apology, smiling as giggles erupted from her sweet mouth. She had always been so ticklish and you would never let it down.

“What are you doing up so early, hm?” She shrugged and stood in front of the food to block it from your view.

“What are you doing out of bed already?”

“Touche, touche.” She pushed you back into your shared room, making you lay comfortably on the bed before jogging back to her spot in the kitchen, little paddles being heard as she rushed herself.

You were nearly done with the chapter of your book as she opened the door, carefully holding the tray in her hands and trying her best not to drop it. You watched with a grin as she smiled in satisfaction at her work. The food was nearly burnt and the juice had spilled. There was an obnoxious amount of syrup on the French toast, but as long as she had a smile on her face that was all that mattered.

“It’s beautiful, honey! Thank you for making me breakfast, but what’s the occasion?” She rushed back out of the room, leaving you with furrowed brows until she came back. She moved the card she had made from behind her back and shoved it in your face. You grabbed it lightly and read the card to yourself, nearly tearing up at her sweetness.

“Oh, Wanda, come here.” She sat on your lap as she always did and you brought her even closer, wrapping your arms around her small form and kissing her forehead before letting your lips linger.

“Thank you for being my sweet baby, Wanda. I’m so proud of you for making breakfast all on your own and, look, your handwriting is getting so much better.” She smiled in victory, a blush adorning her cheeks as you kissed each one. When she was in this mindset it was hard for her to do the things most had learned at a young age. You learned about her regression about three months into your relationship. You remember her teary eyes when you had found her stuff, she was so scared she had ran you away, but you made sure to ease her worries away. You had been her mommy ever since then, and you loved every moment of it. She was mostly a sweethearted angel, but every now and then she’d have a temper tantrum when she was hangry or sleepy.

You set the card down on the bedside table, making a mental note to hang it up on the fridge with the rest of her drawings and achievements. Wanda leaned back, still refusing to move from your lap as you refused to let her leave your lap as well.

You cut into the French toast with your knife and fork before taking a bite full. Even if it was fully burnt it still tasted better than most.

“Mm, this is delicious sweetheart, thank you. Since when did you become such a good chef?” She had been watching you closely for the past week as you cooked, trying to memorize the triggers and spices but failing. She watched a few videos and read a few articles on how to make the best homemade French toast knowing it was one of your favorites.

“A chef never reveals their recipes.” She teased, playing nervously with her fingers as you took another bite. You could sense her fear and grabbed another piece, swirling the food around in the air and making a swooshing noise before placing it in her open mouth. She smiled as she tasted her food, it was good and you thought the same, that was all that she wanted.

The rest of the morning was spent relaxing and cuddling in bed before it had already gotten so late. She had asked Aunty Natty for help setting up a dinner reservation near six PM. You didn’t even know until she struggled too hard not to tell you. She was just so excited she couldn’t help herself. She went on and on about how she handled talking to the worker so well even if it was secretly Nat doing all the hard work, but you didn’t need to know that.

“Wanda? You ready to go?” She looked over herself one last time in the mirror before walking down the stairs to see you. You looked up when hearing high heels hitting the floor and nearly dropped your jae as you saw her. She wore a black dress that went to her upper thighs with the necklace you got her for your six-month anniversary.

“My God, baby, you look so beautiful.” She had been too busy admiring you to even notice how you looked at her with hunger. You looked so gorgeous. You wore black suit pants with a belt and a lacy corset covered by your suit jacket. You bit your lip as she rubbed her thighs together discreetly.

“You look so fucking cute, Wanda. Everybody is going to be looking at my pretty girl tonight, huh?”

“But I’m still all yours, mommy.”

“That you are, love.” You walked her outside into the passenger side of your expensive car. She made sure to buckle up to your request and sat patiently as you started the car and drove off. The restaurant was packed but luckily your reservations saved you from the long wait. It seemed that everyone had wanted to celebrate Mother’s Day here, but you weren’t complaining, it was probably one of the nicest restaurants you had the privilege of going to.

“Can I take your order?” The man asked you both, Wanda nervously looking up at you and pointing to what she wanted. She was never great with communication with others besides you, especially when she was little.

The dinner had gone smoothly until it was nearing dessert. You had placed your order and intended on sharing a sundae with Wanda, one that she was so giddy about.

“Sweetheart, is it okay if I sit next to you?” You had been across from her all night and wanted nothing more than to be closer to her so you could hold her. She nodded and you moved your seat, grasping her thigh in your hand as soon as you could.

When the sundae was placed on your table Wanda was already grabbing her spoon and digging in. She moaned in delight as the flavors hit her tastebuds. You gulped nervously as you looked around, trying your best to hide the effect her sounds had on you. Over the rest of the dessert, your hand had kept on slowly moving up and down. Wanda looked down as your fingers passed the way of her short dress.

“Mommy, not here.” You hummed, not listening to her demands and teasing the hem of her panties. You could feel the wetness coating her undergarments as you traced her clit lightly with the pads of your fingers.

“Shh, just let mommy do all the thinking, okay?” She hesitantly agreed and spread her legs just barely. Her chubby thighs tightened as she tried her best not to moan. She took another bite of the nearly melted dessert to hide her noises, almost biting down on the spoon and futtering her eyes shut.

“You like when mommy plays with their angel’s pussy in public? Where anyone could see us, could hear us? I bet you’re so wet just thinking about how good I’m going to make you feel when we get home. You were just such a good little girl for me today, baby, making me breakfast and that sweet card, only to let me play with this puffy cunt however I want.” She rested her head in the navel of your neck, sniffing your scent and clenching her thighs from your words.

“Yes, mommy, I’m your good little girl.” She whispered back into your ear, chills being sent up your spine at the tone of her voice. The waiter walked over with the bill, thinking the girl next to you was just tired with how she had her eyes shut and resting on you. Little did he know what was going on under the table that made her so flustered.

You removed your hand from under her dress as she placed hers on top of yours, begging you not to tease her like this. She gave you those doey and pleading eyes that you could never resist.

“Don’t think I’m done with you just yet, Wands. Once we get in the car I’ll be able to play with you however I want, then I can hear those sexy moans of yours.” She walked on slightly wobbly legs and followed you like a lost puppy, immediately pulling your hand back to her in hopes you’d comply. You chuckled and started the car, your hand finding its way back to her covered cunt. You didn’t move like she wanted you to, you just kept yourself there to tease her further. You knew it was cruel, but God she was adorable when she was whiney.

“Mommy! Please, I’ve been good.” She cried out, holding onto your arm for support as she shyly started to hump herself onto you. She was too embarrassed to look your way, but she was desperately chasing her high.

“M-mommy, it feels so good. Please, just wan’ your fingers.” You eventually gave in, moving her panties to the side and entering her tight hole with two digits. She grinded to your pace sloppily, smiling to herself when she saw how soaked you were getting.

“Making such a mess for me, baby. This all for me?” She opened her mouth to respond but all that came out was mumbled words and whimpers. Instead, she nodded, praying that you would let it slide just this once and continue playing with her. She was so close as she chased the high that she so desperately needed. Her thighs jiggled lightly the sloppier her movements got. It had taken so long to teach her how to love her features, and even if she still got insecure and didn’t always like the way they looked, she listened to you when you told her time and time again how much you loved it.

“I’m gonna-”

“Cum for me, Wanda, cum all over my fingers.” Her hips stilled as her release coated her thighs and your digits. You helped her ride out her high, slowly fingering her until you heard soft whines from her mouth.

The rest of the ride was spent in comfortable silence as she took in the scenery outside, droopy eyes and a bit of drool from her mouth adorning her beautiful face. You had to carry her inside and change her clothes, helping her get dressed as she picked out her clothes for the night, deciding between her bear onesie and your hoodie. She eventually decided on your hoodie and slept bare besides that, it was too hot to wear anything else anyways.

You laid comfortably down in bed with her by your side. You were about to grab your book from earlier before you felt a light tug on your tank top. You looked down to see a sleepy Wanda begging with her beautiful green eyes.

“You want mommy, baby?” She nodded and you maneuvered to have her lay on top of you. She tugged down your shirt to rest just above your ribs and connected her mouth with your breast. She was so tired that it put her to sleep almost instantly. She sucked softly, nipping at the skin every so often as you rubbed her back. You held her thigh across your waist and kissed her forehead, bringing your hand that rested on her back to play with her hair. She hummed around you as you wiped the dribble of milk that rested on her lips. She looked at you with a droopy smile and brought her head back down to suck on your nipple until her eyes closed for the last time that night.

“Thank you for such an amazing day, my love, I’m so beyond lucky to have someone as amazing as you.” You grinned happily and turned off the lamp on your bedside table, getting ready to sleep with the love of your life.

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