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justsomerandomfanfic · 4 days ago

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I Did This All For You - Rafe Adler X GN Reader

Title: I Did This All For You

Rafe Adler X GN Reader

Additional Characters: Nadine (Mentioned), Nate, Sam, Rafe's parents (Mentioned), Captain Avery (Mentioned), and Tew (Mentioned)

WC: 3,410

Warnings: Canon Uncharted 4 violence, very brief suggestiveness, italics, Rafe's obsession for the treasure, betrayal, brief heartbreak, weapons, guns/swords, death mentioned, mentions of blood/injuries, crying, fire, confession, cursing (one word), angst, and fluff

Everything had led to this moment: the lies, the risks, the impossible choice between love and survival.

You had met Rafe at a truly extravagant party three years prior to the Avery disaster. It was a night filled with rich laughter and champagne. You had been drawn to him. Not by his money or his charm, which he had an abundance of, but because of the look in those seafoam eyes, a look that betrayed something far deeper than the polished facade he presented to the world.

At first, it was nothing more than flirtation. You teased him, he teased you. It became a game, one neither of you cared to really put a name to, but were both so eager to play. His sharp remarks were met with your quick comebacks, and though you often rolled your eyes at his arrogance, you couldn't deny the spark that ignited every time he smirked at you.

He wasn’t used to being challenged, and you weren’t used to letting your guard down, but something about him made it feel… Thrilling. The continued stolen glances, the lingering touches, the way his voice would soften ever so slightly when he spoke to just you… It was becoming more and more dangerous the more you spent time with him.

You told yourself it was harmless, that Rafe Adler wasn’t the kind of man you could fall for. But somewhere down the line, between the late-night rendezvous, wrapped up in his arms, his fingers in your hair, the way his lips felt against yours, all logic fled from your head. He made you feel things, and those feelings made you want to do anything to keep him close. To be selfish, just once, to take advantage of the feeling.

It stopped feeling like a game.

You saw pieces of him no one else did. The frustration he buries beneath his charm and the ache for something he could never quite reach for the past how many years. You weren’t blind to the danger of it all. Rafe was ambitious, relentless, determined, and wholly unpredictable. But when he asked you to come with him to find Captain Avery’s treasure, you couldn’t refuse.

At first, it had been easy to ignore and brush off the growing red flags. His obsession with the treasure seemed driven more by pride than anything else - a way to prove himself to a world that never truly appreciated him. You understood. He had told you about his childhood, about growing up with a father who basically trained him to someday take over the family business, and a life where everything was handed to him on a silver platter. He wanted to prove himself, show that he could earn something for himself. You understood.

But as the journey went on - going from Paris, to Italy, Scotland, and then to Madagascar - you began to see the cracks. The long nights where his temper would flare, his focus shifting away from adventure and into revenge. The treasure wasn’t just a goal anymore - it was consuming him, and the man you had come to care for was slipping further and further away.

You tried to reason with him, to remind him that there was more to life than this. That there were other ways of getting recognition, other treasures to find. He would just smile, kiss your forehead, and assure you it would all be worth it in the end. But you could see it in his eyes… They used to be filled with so much amusement, affection, and ambition. But now, it was all madness and desperation.

And still, you stayed. Partly because you wanted to believe you could bring him back. Bring back the man that wouldn’t hide himself away in his office for hours. The man that used to laugh with you, smile with you, hold you close, and kiss you senseless. Was it wrong for you to wish for such things? Were they even real? You didn’t know anymore.

But despite everything, against your better judgment, you loved him.

And it scared you just how much you did.

~~~

Now, standing on the ship, surrounded by the gleaming and sparkling treasure that had driven Rafe to this point; madness…

His voice echoed through the air, wild and taunting. “I told you, Sam,” He sneered, a smug grin pulling at his lips. “I told you I’d win. All this time, all that effort, and it’s mine now. Avery’s treasure is my treasure.”

“I wouldn’t be so sure about that.” Sam’s gaze was hard, unwavering, “Nate will be here soon.”

Rafe scoffed, shaking his head as if the mere thought of Nate still standing a chance was laughable. “Huh, yeah, I don’t think so.” He kept his gun trained on Sam, “Nate fell from the cliff, remember?”

Sam didn’t back down, his voice calm but with an edge of frustration, “You ever wonder how Nate even got this far in the first place, Rafe? It wasn’t just from our knowledge.”

Rafe scoffed once more, in disbelief, looking at Sam incredulously. “Nadine? No, she wouldn’t have helped you.” He shook his head, “She wouldn’t do that. You know, my partners don’t betray me…” He cut himself off, his words trailing off as he slowly turned his head to face you. His eyes narrowed, “You,” He began, his voice quieter now, accusatory, “You’ve been helping Nate, haven’t you?”

You glanced at Sam behind Rafe’s shoulder, your stomach twisting, your heart pounding in your chest. There was no hiding it now. The truth had been exposed, and the man you tried to protect was staring at you with that look in his eyes - a look that sent chills through you. You had never seen him look so cold.

And you hated it.

“I-” You swallowed hard, trying to steady your voice, “I did it for you, Rafe.”

Rafe’s laugh was low, guttural, and void of any amusement. He looked down, as if trying to process your words, before he snapped his eyes toward you. “For me?” He gestured his gun at himself, his voice laced with disbelief and growing fury. Before you could even blink, he was stalking toward you. You barely had time to react as he grabbed your arm and roughly pressed you up against the ship’s wall. “You were doing it for me?” His voice was deadly, dripping with venom. You could feel the heat of his body close to yours, his breath hot against your face. His eyes, once filled with so many more positive things, were now empty, consumed with rage. The world seemed to slow down as he pressed the cold barrel of the gun to your temple. “After everything we’ve been through, after everything…” His voice was rough, low, each word clipped, “And this is how you repay me?”

He trusted you. He told you his secrets, his life. He let you in. He let down his walls for you. You were everything to him, and you betrayed him.

You could only stare at him, heart racing, breath shallow. His finger hovered dangerously close to the trigger. Your eyes welled with tears, “Are you going to kill me, Rafe?” The question slipped from your lips before you could stop it, your voice surprisingly calm but tingled with heartbreak.

Rafe didn’t answer. His gaze, cold and unwavering, locked onto yours, but there was something else there now - something deeper, more conflicted. His jaw clenched, his chest rising and falling with heavy breaths as if he were fighting something inside himself.

For a moment, his eyes flickered - just a brief flash - but you saw it. The man you knew, the man you had loved, was still there, hidden behind the madness and desperation. But then, like a flicker of a dying flame, it was gone, replaced by that icy determination.

He growled, a low, guttural sound, before his lips parted as if to speak, but the words wouldn’t come. His grip on the gun tightened, and for a split second, it seemed like he might lower it. You saw it in his eyes, the internal battle waging inside him. He still cared… He still loved you…

You held your breath, praying that whatever was left of the man you had once known would rise above the madness and the revenge, but before you could make sense of it, an explosion rang out.

And just like that, everything went black.

You woke with a start, coughing violently as smoke filled the room. Your eyes burned, and your vision swam as you struggled to sit up. Pain shot through your side, sharp and unrelenting. You pressed a hand to your ribs, the ache growing with each passing moment. It felt like a dream. You were disoriented, your body numb, but the fire around you was all too real.

You blinked through the haze of smoke, your heart hammering in your chest as you tried to focus. The heat in the air was suffocating, but there was something else - sounds. The clash of swords echoed through the room. You turned your head, eyes widening as you saw the two figures at the far end of the room.

Rafe and Nate. They were locked in a duel, their swords flashing in the dim, smoky light. You let out another cough, your chest tight as you winced from the pain. Your gaze moved quickly to Sam, who was pinned beneath a large piece of wood. He was struggling to move, but the debris kept him trapped.

You coughed again, a more desperate sound now, as you watched the two men fight. Nate was trying to talk to Rafe, pleading with him, but Rafe was so far gone. “Rafe!” You called his name, your voice cracking with urgency, but he didn’t even flinch. He didn’t even turn to look at you, as if you were nothing more than a distant echo, lost in the chaos of his anger.

You tried to push through the pain, pushing yourself up a little more, but your legs were shaky. Still, you couldn’t look away. The sound of their swords clashing grew louder, each strike more violent than the last.

With a quick swipe, he pushed Nate aside, knocking him to the ground. “So long, Nathan Drake,” Rafe muttered, preparing to deliver the final blow. But before he could strike, he saw the cold steel of a sword pointed directly at his chest. Rafe froze.

His breath caught, his gaze flickering to the sword’s wielder. And there you were - standing, sword in hand, blood dripping down from a cut on your cheek, but your grip firm and determined. You could see the hesitation in Rafe's eyes, just for a moment, before it disappeared, swallowed by the rage again. But you held your ground, your chest heaving with effort. You weren’t going to back down. Not now.

The air between you two thickened, every second dragging out as you locked eyes. His chest rose and fell, the tension in his shoulders visible even through the haze of smoke that filled the room. Your sword remained steady, pointed directly at him, though your free hand shook from the pain in your side.

Out of the corner of your eye, you saw Nate struggling to push himself to his feet. He stumbled but made his way toward Sam, who was still pinned under the wreckage. Your focus wavered just for a second, but it was enough for Rafe to speak, his voice cold and dark.

"What in the hell do you think you're doing?" He sneered, his gaze hardened, his grip tightening on his sword. "Now, don’t do anything stupid.”

“Do you want to know why I did it?” You asked, and Rafe opened his mouth to speak, but you didn’t give him a chance to answer. You took a step forward, your sword held steady in your grip, "I did it because I could see it, Rafe. I could see how this treasure... How it was taking over your mind. Consuming you. Corrupting you just like it did for Avery, just like it did for Tew. You think you're invincible, but you're not. This thing - this treasure - is ruining you. It's not worth it. There will be more adventures and treasure to find out there. You can give this one up." You paused, your breath shaky, and the words poured out of you.

“Y/N! The ship’s going down!” You heard Nate by the latch door, you ignored him.

"I wouldn’t have helped Nathan if it wasn’t affecting you like this. I did it for you. Because I care about you…" You took a step closer, holding his gaze, your heart pounding in your chest. "I love you, Rafe," The words trembling as they left you, "I love you so much that it scares me. I would do anything for you. Anything. But I can’t stand seeing you like this. It’s going to kill you.” You could physically feel your heart breaking as you continued, "You have two choices. One is to drop the sword, take whatever treasure you’ve already got, and go home. Or…" You trailed off for a moment, gathering the courage to finish your plea, "Or you can stay. And if you stay, I’ll follow you. I followed you to Paris, to Italy. To Madagascar. To this goddamn ship. Everywhere. And if I have to, I’ll follow you to the bottom of this ocean, Raphael. I’ll go down with the ship with you in it if that’s what it takes. I’ll be there. But you have to choose." You raised your sword once more, tilting your head slightly, "So… What will it be?"

For what felt like an eternity, Rafe didn’t move. His gaze remained locked with yours, and for a fleeting moment, his sword wavered in his hand. His expression was unreadable, a complex storm of emotions flickering in his eyes - anger, confusion, fear. You held your breath, unable to tear your eyes away. Your heartbeat echoed in your ears, louder with every passing second.

Rafe’s eyes shifted toward the treasure, then back to you. His jaw tightened, his grip on the sword faltering slightly. He looked down at the sword in his hand as if seeing it for the first time. And then, he lowered it. He didn’t speak. He didn’t move - just stood there, staring at you, his gaze now softer but no less conflicted. A silent understanding passed between you. No words were necessary. It was in the way he exhaled, the way his shoulders slumped.

And then, without saying a word, he dropped the sword and turned. And you followed him. Wordlessly. As you walked toward the exit - propped open by Sam and Nate - the finality of the moment settled in your chest. The treasure, the madness, the violence - it all stayed behind. You didn't remember much from the boat ride back to shore. The motion of the waves was a quiet hum beneath the silence between you and Rafe. You were lost in your thoughts when your gaze drifted over to him.

Rafe sat with his back slumped, his eyes fixed on the burning wreckage in the distance. The flickering flames danced on the horizon, a reflection of the chaos that had once been his life. He didn’t say anything, didn’t move. It was as if he was trying to process everything. His expression was a mix of exhaustion, regret, and so much.

You noticed the small shake of his head, the way his eyes lingered on the smoke until it finally disappeared from view. Only then did he turn, his gaze meeting yours. The raw emotion in his eyes made your chest ache. It was the first time in so long that you saw him - truly saw him. You watched the shore get closer, the small boat gently rocking with the current as you neared the land. A sigh escaped your lips, a mix of exhaustion and relief. You stayed in silence, neither of you speaking, the only sound being the gentle lapping of water against the boat as you pulled up to the shore.

Finally, without a word, you silently moved beside him, sitting down next to him. He didn’t raise his head, his gaze still distant, eyes locked on the horizon. You didn’t need him to acknowledge you. You just needed to be there beside him. His hands, bloodied and raw from the fight, sat limply in his lap. You reached over, taking one gently into your own, your fingers tracing over the calluses, the rough skin. The warmth of his hand was grounding, steadying you, reminding you that he was still there. Alive. You were so scared that he was going to die on that ship. After everything…

You watched him, searching the side of his face. Your free hand slowly raised to brush his hair away from his forehead, fingers softly grazing the dark strands. You smiled sadly when his seafoam eyes met yours at the contact, eyes filled with so much, too much, that you couldn’t begin to unravel it all.

"It's going to be okay," You said, your voice barely more than a whisper, but steady. "We’ll get through this. Like we always do. Together."

Rafe didn’t answer, but his gaze softened, and for the first time in a long while, he didn’t seem so lost. The weight in his shoulders seemed to lift, just a little, but it was something. He stared at you for a long moment, his hand hesitantly raised, cupping your cheek. His thumb brushed below the cut on your cheek, and both of you closed your eyes, leaning your foreheads together.

The world seemed to pause as your breaths synced, and in that fleeting silence, Rafe finally spoke.

"I never said it back."

You sighed softly, a small, gentle smile spreading across your face as you cupped his cheek in your hand. "You don’t have to say it right now," You whispered, the sincerity in your voice clear. "I know, Rafe, I know…"

For a moment, neither of you moved. The distance between you, so vast before, now felt small, barely there.

~~~

It wasn’t instant. Healing never was.

It wasn’t until a couple of weeks after the incident with Avery’s treasure that you started to notice the progress Rafe was making. It wasn’t huge, not all at once, but it was there. You could see how he was trying, and you were so proud of him.

One of the first things he did, though subtle, was start showing up for you. He didn’t just give gifts, although he did that, too. The gifts were personal, thoughtful, not his usual fancy and expensive gifts, but a book you mentioned months ago, a piece of jewelry you admired in passing, a painting from a local artist you had said you loved. But more than the material things, it was his time that mattered most.

Rafe began taking you out of the house. He would plan small trips to places he knew you’d enjoy. Vacations that weren’t for hunting for treasure. Vacations that were for spending time with each other and relaxing. Breakfast on the Eiffel Tower in Paris, museum dates in Athens, admiring the Northern Lights in Iceland…

When he wasn’t whisking you away on small, romantic vacations, he was right there by your side, always looking for ways to be present. No more constant running off to his home office after work. Sometimes it was as simple as sitting with you on the couch, watching a movie with you. Or learning how to make your favorite dish together.

Then there were nights when he would pull you into his arms, holding you close, his hand resting against your back, fingers trailing along your spine, his lips gently brushing your forehead. Nights where your faces would be so close, that you could feel his warm breath ghost over your skin. Nights where he would press soft kisses to your lips, or your cheeks, or anywhere he could reach, leaving you breathless. It was then that he would whisper his apologies, sincerely, softly, surrounded by you, your love, and the darkness of your shared bedroom. For only you to hear. And, you knew his words to be true.

Rafe still had a long way to go, and so did you. The wounds were still there, scabbed over, but there was still hope. Hope for a brighter future, together.

~~~

Main Masterlist | Uncharted Masterlist

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justsomerandomfanfic · 4 days ago

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Meeting The Parents - (Old Man) Logan Howlett X Female Reader

Title: Meeting The Parents

(Old Man) Logan Howlett X Female Reader

Additional Characters: Reader's mother, Reader's father, Charles (Mentioned), Caliban (Mentioned), and the ex (Mentioned)

WC: 4,927

Warnings: Pre-Logan movie events, age gap (Reader's in 20s and Logan's Old Man Logan), overbearing parents, overprotective parents, italics, teasing, flirting, banter, very brief non-sexual nudity, Reader pampering Logan, insecure and sad Logan, nicknames, slight suggestiveness, Reader's parents are jerks, movie references, slight angst, and fluff

You were nervous. You had just gotten off the phone with your mother, who had invited you to dinner, along with your boyfriend. She, for the past year or so, had been asking you - begging you at this point - to bring your boyfriend to dinner. On this phone call, in particular, she had said that she was starting to think that you didn't even have a boyfriend to begin with. Why would you insist on not bringing your boyfriend, if you didn’t have one to begin with? You would want to show off your boyfriend to your lovely parents. Why hide him, if you had something to hide?

This upset you. You've told her many times before that Logan wasn’t comfortable in most social situations. You specifically said on more than one occasion that he was a 'lone wolf.' You also added that you knew that if you brought Logan, she would bombard him with questions, while your father would glare daggers at him, and obviously, you didn't want to overwhelm him.

Well, your mother, despite your words and concerns, continued to be insistent. As she always was. "Oh, you're being ridiculous!" She laughed, "It'll be fine! Just bring him. If he even exists. See you both Sunday, dear!" And then she hung up.

Now you were left with a real problem.

You didn't know when Logan would get home, so you sat on yours and Logan's bed and leaned back against the wall with a book in your hand. You had just finished your call with your mom, and before that, you checked in on Charles. You didn't know where Caliban was at that very moment, and you didn’t really care at the moment, to be truly honest with yourself.

Hearing the bedroom door open no longer than thirty minutes later, you looked up from your book, still on the same page you were on when you had started; unable to really pay attention, your mind racing. Logan slowly walked in, tired as he sat down on the edge of the bed and began untying his shoes. Dropping your book on the bed beside you, you crawled over, taking a seat next to him.

His poor hands - scars littered on his knuckles - trembled slightly as he fiddled with the laces. Slipping off the bed, you sat on the backs of your thighs in front of him as you began to undo his laces for him, removing his shoes. Logan sighed deeply, staring down at you with a frown on his face; he wasn't angry or upset with you, no, he was just frustrated with himself. He was old and his mutation - his healing factor - wasn't working much anymore. He hated it. He always appreciated all of your help, but he still felt frustrated.

For the next couple of minutes, you and Logan were both silent. Little grunts here and there as you helped him out of a black blazer, pants, and white button-up; leaving him in his briefs.

After you were done, you sat back down beside him, your hand taking his. Looking up at him, again, you could see how exhausted he was. His eyes stared down at the floor, eyelids heavy, a frown still on his face. Must have been a rough day at work; you’d just tell him everything about your mother’s call in the morning. You didn’t want to bother him more.

You sighed, the pad of your thumb brushing along his scarred knuckles before you raised his hand to your lips to press a kiss onto the back of it, smiling softly; he finally looked over at you.

"How about you shower, and I'll go check on Charles, okay?" You asked, before pressing a lingering kiss to his shoulder. "I'll be right back." You reluctantly let go of his hand and stood, giving him one last glance before leaving the room.

Logan watched after you until you were out of sight before he let out another deep sigh. Grunting, he stood, his body feeling heavy, making his way into the bathroom. He went into the shower, and turned it on full blast. The water was hot, causing him to shiver slightly, but he didn't complain. It felt nice against his aching skin. He shut his eyes, allowing the hot spray to try and relax him.

When he got out, towel around his waist, he found you on the bed, already in your pajamas for the night. You watched as he dressed, his muscles still tense under his scarred and marred skin as he slid his wife-beater and sweats on. You wished for nothing more than to be able to take all of his pain away. If only your own mutation allowed for that…

Again, Logan said nothing as he slid into bed beside you, with a groan, he flipped onto his stomach. His face was buried into your chest, his arms wrapping around you protectively, your hands immediately carding through his graying hair; your nails gently scratching against his scalp.

Logan hummed at the feeling, relaxing further under your touch. "You're too good to me." He mumbled, his deep voice muffed by your sleep shirt - which was one of his. You stroked his hair, before leaning down to press a kiss to the top of his head, smelling his shampoo. His grip around you tightened slightly.

"You deserve it," You whispered, your fingers still threading through his hair, your other hand lowering to wrap around his shoulder; your hand pressed between his shoulder blades.

"I don’t know about that," He muttered, his words gruff but laced with a vulnerability he rarely allowed himself to show. "But I’ll take it."

“You always sell yourself short,” You tightened your grip around him slightly, "I believe that you deserve the world, honey."

Logan fell silent after that, his heart warm from your words, but the familiar, relentless voice inside of his mind began to push back against them. He didn’t feel like he deserved the world, and he certainly didn’t think he deserved you. All the things he had done, the lives he had taken, the mistakes he could never undo - they weighed on him like a heavy chain.

You were too good for this world.

Logan grumbled under his breath, "Why do I feel like you're buttering me up, bub?" His tone was teasing, but you could hear the underlying doubt. “You said somethin’ similar a week ago.”

You hummed, “That was just because I wanted to choose the movie for movie night.” You bit your lip, shaking your head as your fingers continued to thread through his hair. "But, no, Logan. I love you. And I want you to know how special you are to me. I’ll tell you every day if I have to." He stayed quiet, letting your words sink in, though you could feel the tension in his body slowly beginning to ease. But you could tell that doubt still lingered beneath the surface. After a moment, a playful tone creeped into your voice, "On a side note, I was going to ask you something in the morning."

Logan shifted slightly, lifting his head to look up at you, his eyebrow raised in suspicion. "I knew you wanted somethin’. What is it?”

You chuckled, shaking your head. "Relax, it’s just a favor, really. But for the record, me taking care of you like this has nothing to do with buttering you up to get a yes. Even if you say no to this favor, I’d do this for you every day, if you let me."

Logan’s lips curled into a small, rare smile as he rested his head back against your chest. "Well, now I gotta hear what this favor is."

You chuckled, leaning down to press another kiss to his head; this time at his hairline. "You’ll just have to wait until morning."

Logan let out a small huff, his voice gruff but tinged with affection. "Fine..." He settled back against you, his head resting comfortably on your chest again.

You smiled, running your fingers through his hair once more. "I love you," you muttered, your voice sweet.

For a moment, Logan didn’t say anything, but you could feel his grip around you tighten, pulling you closer.

"Love you too, sweetheart." He finally murmured, the words quiet, almost hesitant. Logan wasn’t one to say it often - he showed you just how much he loved you in little ways everyday - but when he did say it, you knew it was real;raw and honest, like everything he felt for you.

~~~

Logan woke with a start, his chest rose and fell with a deep sigh, his muscles still sluggish with sleep. For a moment, he stared up at the ceiling, his heart still pounding from whatever had shaken him awake. But soon enough, the familiar warmth beside him pulled his attention. His eyes shifted down, and there you were - curled up against him, head resting on his chest, your breath slow and steady as you slept. One of your legs was draped lazily across his waist, holding him close to you; even your hand was placed over his chest, right over his beating heart.

Logan blinked slowly, his gaze lingering on you, taking in every detail like it was the first time. The way your hair cascaded, the serene expression on your face, the way your lips were slightly parted, the slope of your nose, the fluttering of your eyelashes brushing along the apples of your cheeks - you were all so ethereal. He couldn’t help but think you looked like a goddess, resting in the morning light, untouched by the ugliness of the world he’d seen for over two centuries.

Again, you were too good for this world.

And too good for him…

He swallowed hard, that old familiar doubt creeping into his thoughts. What were you doing with him anyway? You were so young, vibrant, and full of life, in your late twenties with a whole world of possibilities ahead of you. He was over two hundred years old, weighed down by scars - both physical and emotional - that would never truly heal. He couldn’t understand why you were with him when you could have anyone your age.

You could’ve been having a normal, regular life right about now. Picket fences, loving a partner your age, in a house in the suburbs, with a stable job and car insurance… Doing taxes…

Logan was a two-hundred-year-old-something with a heart full of scars and hands that had been stained by more than just time. Instead of that peaceful suburban dream, you were here, tangled up with a man who'd seen centuries of pain and loss.

For a moment, those thoughts lingered, gnawing at him, the quiet whisper of unworthiness in the back of his mind. But then, as if sensing his inner turmoil, you stirred. Your eyelashes fluttered, and your eyes slowly opened, meeting his gaze in that soft, sleepy look that never failed to make his old heart skip a beat under your fingertips.

And then you smiled - warm, genuine, and full of love.

Just like that, all of Logan’s worries slipped away, banished to the farthest corners of his mind; if only temporarily. He made a mental note to try and work on that issue. He didn’t need to understand it, and maybe he never would, but in that moment, with you looking at him like he was your whole world, he knew one thing: he didn’t want to be anywhere else but here, with you.

“Mornin',” He murmured, his voice deep and husky from sleep.

You stretched slightly, your leg still hooked around him as you nestled closer, your cheek nuzzling against his chest. “Morning,” You replied, your smile never faded.

Logan’s hand instinctively moved to brush a few strands of hair from your face, his fingers lingering on your soft cheek. “What was that favor you wanted to ask me?"

You blinked a few times, still shaking off the last traces of sleep, but your smile only grew wider. “Ah, so you didn’t forget,” You teased playfully as you nestled closer to him, your fingers tracing random shapes onto his chest.

Logan gave a small grunt, his fingers moving to slip into your hair. "I don’t forget that easily, bub." He smirked slightly, but there was a softness in his eyes as he gazed down at you.

You took a deep breath, feeling the warmth of his body against yours. If you could, you’d stay like this forever. "Okay, so... Well," You began, not really knowing how to begin, your tone light but nervous; you worried on your bottom lip. Logan raised an eyebrow, waiting for you to continue. "My mom called yesterday, and the family dinner is Sunday. Tomorrow..." You looked up at him sheepishly, and Logan’s eyebrows furrowed, but before he could speak, you continued, "She wants me to bring you this time. Well, she has been wanting you to come for the past couple of months, but I knew you wouldn’t want to go… I mean, I told you about my mom and dad…" Logan’s fingers paused in your hair as you spoke, and you felt his body tense slightly beneath you. His expression shifted, his usual calm demeanor replaced by discomfort. You didn’t need him to say anything - you could already see it in his furrowed brows and the way his jaw tightened. He wasn’t fond of the idea of meeting your parents, and you understood why.

His past, the idea of meeting new people - especially your people - all weighed heavily on him.

“Family dinner?” He asked, and you quickly started to ramble, your words tumbling out in a rush.

"But you don’t have to go, seriously. I didn’t mean to spring it on you like this, and I don’t want you to feel pressured or anything. My mom can be really persistent, and my dad… Nevermind him, but I promise it’s no big deal going if you’re not comfortable. I don’t want you thinking that you have to do this just because of me, or her, or anyone. You shouldn’t feel like you have to meet them if you don’t want to." You took a breath, your fingers nervously twisting the fabric of his wife-beater. "Honestly, I get it. Family dinners can be awkward, especially when it’s... Well, you know. My parents can be a lot sometimes. And, honestly, we can just skip it, we could stay home and-"

"Hey," He interrupted, "You gotta breathe, darlin’." You blinked, suddenly realizing how fast you were talking. You let out a shaky breath, your fingers still gripping his wife-beater, now warm from the contact. Logan shifted beneath you, his hand sleeping from your hair and down to cup the side of your face. His thumb brushed against your cheek, and you sighed; your heart calming. "I get it," He spoke, "I know why you’re askin’, and it ain’t like I don’t want to do things for you." He paused, his eyes dropping for a moment before returning to yours. "But this? Meetin’ your parents? It’s... Different. You know me, and you know my history. They don’t. And I’m just not sure what they’ll think."

You nodded thoughtfully, understanding, "They don’t have to know everything," You whispered. "They just need to know that you are the man I love. That’s enough."

Logan let out a small, humorless chuckle, shaking his head. "Maybe for you, sweetheart, but I’ve got a long list of reasons why parents usually don’t take too kindly to guys like me."

You leaned closer, resting your forehead against his. "Well, you’re not just any guy, Logan. And if they can’t see that, then it’s their loss."

Logan fell quiet again, his eyes searching yours. The conflict was clear on his face - torn between wanting to make you happy and the fear of facing something so unfamiliar, so personal. Finally, he let out a long sigh, his hand slipping back into your hair. "Alrigh’," He muttered, "I’ll go. But if your parents starts askin’ too many questions, I’m out the door," He added, a hint of his usual gruffness returning.

You smiled, relief flooding through you as you leaned in to peck his lips. "Deal."

Logan's lips curved into a smirk, and in a quick, fluid motion, he flipped you onto your back, pinning you beneath him on the bed. "Ya always know how to get your way, don’t ya?" He drawled, his voice low and rough, a shiver ran down your spine.

You smirked wolfishly right back as your hands trailed up his chest slowly, before wrapping around his neck, “It’s a talent of mine.”

~~~

Pulling up to your parents' house in your car, you parked in front of the house in the driveway. You let out a sigh, turning your head to look at Logan in the passenger seat. Logan's face was set in his usual serious expression, his jaw was clenched slightly, and his hands rested on his thighs; fingers flexing in and out of a fist as if trying to shake off the unease. The tension in his shoulders was noticeable, even as he tried to mask it.

"Ready?" You asked, offering a reassuring smile, though your own nerves were starting to bubble up.

Logan let out a low grunt, turning his head slightly to meet your gaze. “Yeah..."

You reached over, placing a hand on his thigh, "Hey, if it gets too much, like we said, we can leave. No questions asked. I promise."

Logan huffed out a small breath, almost a laugh, and nodded. "Yeah, well, let’s just hope I don’t scare your folks off." He smirked, but you could see the underlying worry in his eyes.

"You won’t," You said, "You got this, baby." He scoffed, but the corners of his mouth twitched into a reluctant smile.

With one last deep breath, you both got out of the car. As you walked up to the door, Logan stayed close, his hand brushing against your lower back. When you reached the door, you paused, looking up at Logan one more time before knocking. And before Logan could even think about backing out, the door swung open, and your mom’s bright smile greeted you both.

Your mother’s initial smile faltered just for a split second though as her eyes landed on Logan. Her brows knitted together in confusion, seeing the relatively older man standing beside her daughter. She quickly masked her confusion with a polite, albeit slightly strained, smile. "Oh, Y/N, dear," She greeted you, stepping forward to pull you into a tight hug. You could feel the slight tension in her embrace as she glanced over your shoulder at Logan, who stood awkwardly.

When you pulled back, your hand reached out to take his. "Mom, this is Logan, my boyfriend," You said gently, carefully, "Logan, this is my mom."

Logan gave a curt nod, and the poor dear even tried to smile. "Ma’am," He spoke politely, extending a hand.

Your mom hesitated for just a split second before taking his hand, giving it a quick shake. "Logan, right. It’s... Nice to meet you," She said, eyeing him oddly, before she quickly stepped aside to let the two of you in. "Come on in, make yourselves at home."

As you and Logan stepped into the house, the familiar warmth of your childhood home surrounded you, but there was an undeniable stiffness in the air. Before you could say anything, your father appeared in the doorway of the living room, his eyes narrowing slightly as he took in the sight of Logan, before glaring down at his hand holding yours.

"Hey, dad," You greeted, trying to keep your tone light, though the tension in the room was palpable. "This is Logan. My boyfriend I told you about."

Your father's gaze never left Logan as he gave a brief nod. "Logan," He repeated, his voice low and clipped. "Nice to meet you."

Logan, ever the unflinching figure, met your father’s gaze evenly. He could tell that both of your parents already didn’t like him. Your mother was cautious and your father looked like he was going to hunt him down with that rifle he had mounted on the wall in the entryway. But, either way, Logan wasn’t going to back down, "Likewise," He replied.

You nervously tucked a strand of hair behind your ear, "Um, mom, dad, I thought we could all sit down for a bit before dinner," You said quickly, trying to diffuse the growing tension, but you had a feeling things were not going to go well.

Your mom quickly nodded. "Yes, of course! Why don’t we all head to the living room?" She suggested, her tone overly cheerful as she gestured for you and Logan to follow her. “Dinner is still cooking anyway.”

As you walked toward the living room, you glanced at Logan, offering him a small, apologetic smile. He caught your eye and gave you the briefest of nods, his way of silently telling you that he was fine - at least, for now.

You were already beginning to regret even showing up.

Silence filled the room as everyone settled into their respective spots on the couches. You and Logan sat on one, while your parents took the other. Logan’s posture was rigid, every muscle seeming to bristle with discomfort as you shifted slightly on the couch, you cleared your throat. “So, how have you both been?” You asked, turning to your mother and father with a nervous smile. “Dad, are you still fishing at that lake on the weekends?”

Your father’s stern expression eased a bit, though he didn’t lose his guarded demeanor. “Yeah, I still get out when I can,” He replied curtly.

Your mother, seizing the opportunity to engage in conversation, leaned forward slightly. “So… Uh, how did you and Logan… Meet?” She asked, her tone curious but cautious.

You took a deep breath, “Well, I was out with friends when one of them thought it would be fun to rent a limo for the night. So, we rented the limo, and Logan was the limo driver.” As you told the story, you couldn't help but smile as the memories flashed in your mind, looking up at Logan. "We just sort of... Clicked. Been together ever since."

Your mother’s eyes lit up with more questions. “That’s interesting. And how long have you been together?”

You answered, and your mother’s questions then turned to Logan, he responded with short answers, all the while, your father’s gaze remained fixed on Logan, his expression one of quiet scrutiny.

After a few more questions from your mother about your relationship and how you two made it work, Logan cleared his throat, a sign of his growing unease. “Excuse me, I need to use the bathroom.”

“Oh, Lo, it’s just down the hall, right door.” You directed, and Logan gave you a nod in thanks, his tense gaze shifting slightly.

Once he was out of sight, your mother turned her attention back to you, her tone becoming more serious. “So, about the age difference… He’s too- too old for you, dear.” She stated, her eyes narrowing slightly. “I mean, he looks old enough to be your father.”

You sighed, trying to keep your tone steady. “Mom, the age gap really doesn’t matter. We’re both consenting adults, and what’s important is that we care about each other, and love each other-”

Before you could say more, your mother cut you off. “But he’s so much older than you! I mean, it’s not just the age, it’s his whole demeanor. He didn’t give me a hug at the door, or even bring me flowers. You know your ex, Jeremiah, did all that when he picked you up for that school dance.”

You interjected, trying to stay calm. “That was years ago, mom. High school. And like I have told you over the phone, social situations make him uncomfortable. He is introverted like I am. And on top of that, the moment you opened the door, the both of you were so cold to him. So… Uh, uninviting.”

“Cold and uninviting?” Your mother asked, scoffing with a laugh as if your words were ridiculous. “We just want what’s right for you.” She then continued, giving various reasons for why she felt the gap was unacceptable, before listing off concerns that seemed to stem from her own apprehensions rather than genuine issues. You found yourself growing increasingly frustrated but tried to keep yourself calm.

“Well, mom,” You said, with a touch of exasperation in your voice, “Not only am I an adult that can make my own decisions, but I am disappointed that you won’t even give Logan a chance. And don’t think I am just singling mom out here, dad, you don’t have to glare at him the entire time.”

Your father pursed his lips, glancing away, “I don’t like him.”

You huffed, your hands placed on your thighs, fists clenched tight, “It’s been no more than twenty minutes, thirty tops, dad.”

Your mother’s expression hardened as she continued to press the issue. “I just don’t think this is a good idea. You deserve someone who’s at your stage in life, not someone who’s… Well, so much older. It’s not just about age; Logan might be set in his ways, and what if this is just a phase for you? You’re still figuring things out, and he’s had a lifetime of experiences.”

‘A phase!?’ You exclaimed mentally, feeling rage bubbling up inside you as you tried to take a deep breath, trying to keep yourself calm. “Let me just set this straight that this is not a phase. I get that you’re worried, but I’m not a kid anymore. Like I just said, I am old enough to make my own decisions. I love Logan. He’s kind, patient, and cares about me like no one else. He respects me, listens to me, and makes me feel so incredibly safe.” You ran a frustrated hand through your hair, “And yeah, he’s older, but that doesn’t change anything. He makes me happy, and that’s what matters. I thought that was what you wanted for me; someone who makes me happy.” Your mother opened her mouth, but you continued, not even giving her a chance to interrupt you with more nonsense. “Oh, and he’s super hot, which is a total plus.” You stood up, looking between your parents. “I’m not asking for your approval, just for you to accept that Logan’s a part of my life. And will always be. End of story.”

You quickly said your goodbyes, not giving your parents a chance to argue. Walking back to the hallway, you spotted Logan leaning against the wall, arms crossed, his eyebrows furrowed as he stared down at the floor. Looking up at you, he felt his body ease. Without a word, you held out your hand with a reassuring smile. He pushed off the wall, taking your hand into his as you both left your parents’ house together.

Once you were seated back in the car, you looked over at your Wolverine of a boyfriend, catching the familiar curve of his grin. "So... You think I’m super hot, huh?"

Your own grin widened, eyes twinkling with mischief. "So hot, Lo," You teased, though the sincerity behind your words was undeniable. However, you became more serious, tilting your head, "I really do love you. I don’t care about the age gap. Or anything else they brought up. It doesn’t change how I feel. What matters is how you make me feel - how you make me feel valued, understood, and loved. Their opinions don’t change what I know in my heart… You’re all I’ve ever wanted, and more.”

Logan’s eyes softened at your words, his smirk returning, a little cockier this time. "Guess I’m just lucky to have someone as stubborn as you."

Before you could reply, Logan leaned across the center console, his scarred hand gently cupping your cheek. The roughness of his calloused fingers brushed through your hair, sending a rush of butterflies through your stomach. Your breath mingled with his, the proximity making your heart race. Your eyelids drooped slightly, lost in the heat of the moment as you reached up, your fingers brushing through the rough strands of his graying beard.

Logan’s eyes flickered down to your lips as he ran his tongue along his own, wetting them before he finally closed the gap. His mouth was warm, the kiss slow and sensual, as if he was savoring every second. And, my god, were you. You pressed closer, your hand slipping to the back of his neck, pulling him in deeper.

When you finally pulled back, your foreheads pressed against each other’s. As your breathing slowly steadied, you smiled, tilting your head slightly and muttered, “So... What should we watch when we get home? I’m thinking of something fun. ‘John Wick’? Maybe even ‘The Fifth Element?”

“‘John Wick’ sounds good,” He murmured, sitting back upright in his seat, but continuing to look over at you; his lips still tingled from the kiss. “But let’s get something to eat first. I’m starving.”

You nodded, your smile widening. “Sounds perfect.” You leaned back in, pressing a quick peck to his lips, “I am so down for some fast food. We can pick up something for Charles too. You know how much he loves those McFlurries.”

Logan gave you a satisfied grin as you started the car and pulled out of the driveway.

~~~

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justsomerandomfanfic · 4 days ago

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The Words Upon Your Lips - Jaime Reyes X GN Reader

Title: The Words Upon Your Lips

Jaime Reyes X GN Reader

Additional Characters: Milagro, Jaime's family (Mentioned), and Khaji-Da (Mentioned)

WC: 1,756

Warnings: Spanish translated to and from Google Translate, italics, very mini angst, a bit suggestive, teasing, banter, flirting, nicknames, very brief mentions of marriage, and fluff

"Eres la luz de mi vida, (You are the light of my life)" You heard Jaime mutter under his breath from where he sat on your bed. He was leaning forward, his elbows propped up on his knees, the palms of his hands holding his head up as he watched you brush your teeth in the bathroom.

Peering out the open doorway, you paused your brushing, raising an eyebrow, "What was that, my love?" You asked, mouth full of toothpaste as you turned to spit it out in the sink.

Looking back, Jaime just gave you a smile, "Nothing, nothing. Are you almost ready? I don't want Milagro to talk my ear off for being late."

Finishing up in the bathroom, you walked back into your room and grabbed your bag, double-checking if it had your keys, wallet, phone, etcetera. "Alright, I'm ready. Let's go, handsome." You grabbed both his hands and pulled him to his feet.

For the past couple of months since you began dating the one and only Jaime Reyes, you have noticed that he would say a lot of things to you in spanish. You knew that he thought you couldn't understand what he was saying, but you did. You were pretty fluent in spanish and had been studying it for years before you even knew or met Jaime. You were going to say something to him, but he was saying all these sweet things to you, most with some dopey, love-sick smile on his face, and you didn't want to interrupt and ruin the moment by telling him that you understood him. So instead, you kept it to yourself.

And it was so worth it.

Since then, you pretended that you didn't understand him, faking a confused expression while on the inside your heart was practically bursting. And he’d say things a lot, randomly too. You would just be doing the dishes and he'd walk in to get water only to stop and stare longingly at you and say how much he loved you. You’d be reading a book in your favorite chair, Jaime walking in to stop and say that you looked beautiful in the sunlight coming in from the window behind you. Or during a movie, sitting together on the couch, he would press a kiss to your temple, whispering about how happy he was to have you in his life. He was just so sweet, so loving. Who wouldn't pass up the chance to listen to all of his praises? He was none the wiser. You did feel somewhat deceiving, but it did help that you had gotten Jaime to teach you some spanish, and that was quite the experience.

~~~

Sitting at the small restaurant, you carefully ate your burrito as you, Jaime, and Milagro caught up with each other. Jaime and Milagro were speaking to each other in spanish, at the moment; talking about you, but - as said - you could understand everything.

"Entonces, ¿cuándo es la boda? (So, when is the wedding?)" You listened to Milagro tease Jaime, a smirk on her face as he almost choked on his taco; and you almost did too to be honest.

Coughing, he slapped his chest with a hand, your own hand coming up to pat his back; Jaime turned to give you a bashful smile in thanks before turning back to his sister, "Milagro, llevamos menos de seis meses saliendo, (Milagro, we've been dating for less than six months.)" Jaime responded in his normal voice, taking another bite of food and trying to hide the redness in his cheeks. "No creo que ninguno de nosotros esté preparado para eso. (I don't think any of us are ready for that.)" You and Jaime never really spoke about marriage, so this did come as a surprise to you too.

Milagro only hummed, narrowing her eyes on him, "Claro, Jaime, necesitas ponerte un anillo en ese dedo rápidamente antes de que alguien te lo arrebate. (Sure, Jaime, you need to put a ring on that finger quickly before someone snatches them away from you.)"

You sat and ate, eyeing the two of them with a small smile, listening to their banter, "What are you two talking about?" You asked, fauxing confusion and curiosity as they both turned to look at you.

"Nothing!" Jaime answered quickly, Milagro reaching over and punching him in the arm, "Nothing, Milagro was just telling me about... A certain someone she's met recently."

Your eyebrows rose as you took another bite of your burrito, "Oh? Who is it? Is it someone we know?" You leaned towards them as if it was important information to know.

Milagro only let out an awkward smile, waving a hand dismissively, "Oh, no one you know. It's not important. Uh, so, how is work going?" She then asked you, moving on to a different subject, which then led to another conversation between the three of you.

~~~

Letting out a sigh, you kicked off your shoes near the door, shuffling to the couch and plopping down with another deep sigh. Jaime did the same, walking over to you with a small, amused grin. You looked up at him and smiled, taking his hand and pulling him down onto the couch beside you once he got close enough. Your smile saddened slightly as you kept your hand in his, looking up into his chocolate-brown eyes.

Jaime's smile slowly turned into a frown at your expression. He was worried. What happened? Did he say something wrong? Did he do something wrong? Did Milagro upset you? So many questions ran through his mind, and Jaime was thankful for Khaji-Da for reminding him to breathe.

"Jaime, I need to confess something." You began, watching his brow furrow even further. You sighed again, and gently squeezed his hand, "Jaime, I have understood everything you have been saying when you speak Spanish." You paused to see his reaction and found him looking at you with wide eyes, his mouth slightly agape.

"You've understood everything I’ve said?" He asked softly, sheepishly, maybe even embarrassed but you couldn't really tell. You felt kind of bad for keeping this from him for so long but you figured that it would've been easier to just come out and tell him sooner rather than later; especially after the conversation he and Maligro had at lunch earlier.

"Yeah." You responded softly, giving his hand another squeeze, "I wanted to come clean after I heard your conversation with Milagro. It didn't feel right that I understood the conversation when you both thought that I couldn't, I felt like I was listening in on something I should not have..." You began to ramble, running a hand through your hair nervously, "I mean, it would be wrong for me to keep this secret from you anymore... I just loved all the little compliments that you've said to me and I didn't want them to stop. Not that you don’t compliment me in the first place. You tell me how beautiful and smart I am practically everyday." You finished your statement quietly, cheeks warm.

Jaime swallowed thickly, "So, you trying to learn Spanish with me... Was- You knew everything already?" He asked, and you nodded, letting out a small huff.

"I originally did that so you wouldn't suspect that I did know what you were saying, but I loved learning from you, it was fun, and I loved spending that time with you."

Jaime was quiet for a moment, making you worry that you had messed up everything, but then a small smirk appeared on his face, making you let out a breath you didn't even know that you were holding. "I knew when I was teaching you, that you were getting a hang of it pretty quickly. How quickly you learned pronunciations, grammar, and stuff… I did find it a bit suspicious how good you were…”

Shaking your head, you couldn't help but smile, shuffling slightly on the couch, bringing your legs up under you. "Well, I hope you're not mad at me... I'm sorry I lied to you."

He laughed lightly, shaking his head, "No, I'm not mad, mi amor," He leaned forward, cupping your cheek as he pressed a chaste kiss to your forehead. “But, I am curious," He added playfully, his lips still touching your skin as he pulled away, "¿Puedes entender lo que estoy diciendo? (Can you understand what I'm saying?)"

Mirroring his smirk, you shuffled yourself closer to Jaime, biting your bottom lip briefly, "Cada palabra, cariño. (Every word, baby.)" You watched his face light up at your response, and you couldn't help but laugh lightly. Of course you could understand him.

Jaime leaned forward, dragging his tongue on his bottom lip before speaking, "Si puedes entender lo que digo... Deja de ser tan perfecto. (If you can understand what I'm saying... Stop being so perfect.)"

Sliding onto his lap, your thighs on either side of his legs, you wrapped your arms around his neck, grinning as you gazed down at him, "Tu primero, Jaime. (You first, Jaime.)" The compliment flowed easily off your tongue.

The way you said his name took his breath away and Jaime didn't hesitate to wrap his hand behind your neck and pull you down into a kiss, pressing his lips firmly against yours. His hands moved down, sliding underneath your shirt to rest on your waist as he continued to kiss you with more passion. You kissed him back, moving your fingers up to tangle themselves in his hair, gently tugging on his soft curls. Jaime's hands moved lower until his thumbs were resting on your hips and gently pushing you back onto the couch; his body following along after yours, Jaime hovering over you.

He broke away momentarily, pressing kisses down your jaw and stopping at your ear, "Te amo. (I love you.)" He whispered, his voice making a shiver run down your spine.

You giggled softly, feeling your face flush, "Dios mío, yo te amo más. Te amo más, Jaime. (My god, I love you more. I love you more, Jaime.)" You replied, making Jaime's own stomach do flips - of course you loved him, you adored him.

Pressing one more kiss to your lips, Jaime broke away, staring down at you with a small, adoring smile, "Just so you know, I won’t stop the compliments. I’ll never stop…” He then glanced away from you, his smile turning a bit bashful, “Unless you tell me to stop.”

“Thank you, honey,” You muttered softly, your heart soaring at his sweet words, “That means a lot to me…” You raised your hand to brush your fingers against his cheek, “And my growing ego.”

Jaime just chuckled, shaking his head slightly, before peering down at you as if you were some angel; and to him you were, “Want to eat the rest of the ice cream in the freezer?"

You grinned widely in return, leaning up, "Of course I do, is that even a question?" You teased lightly, causing Jaime to roll his eyes playfully in response.

~~~

Translations:

Eres la luz de mi vida - You are the light of my life

Entonces, ¿cuándo es la boda? - So, when is the wedding?

Milagro, llevamos menos de seis meses saliendo - Milagro, we've been dating for less than six months.

No creo que ninguno de nosotros esté preparado para eso. - I don't think any of us are ready for that.

Claro, Jaime, necesitas ponerte un anillo en ese dedo rápidamente antes de que alguien te lo arrebate. - Sure, Jaime, you need to put a ring on that finger quickly before someone snatches them away from you.

¿Puedes entender lo que estoy diciendo? - Can you understand what I'm saying?

Cada palabra, cariño. - Every word, baby.

Si puedes entender lo que digo... Deja de ser tan perfecto. - If you can understand what I'm saying... Stop being so perfect.

Tu primero, Jaime. - You first, Jaime.

Te amo. - I love you

Dios mío, yo te amo más. Te amo más, Jaime - My god, I love you more. I love you more, Jaime.

~~~

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justsomerandomfanfic · 4 days ago

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Gifts From The Heart - Harry Osborn X Female Reader

Title: Gifts From The Heart

Harry Osborn X Female Reader

Additional Characters: Reader's boss (Mentioned)

(Could be seen as the Spider-Man Franco Harry Osborn too, if wanted.)

WC: 1,283

Warnings: Cursing, italics, Harry spoils Reader, nicknames, very mini angst, banter, flirting, teasing, and fluff

Harry Osborn, CEO of Oscorp, was a rich, privileged, and intelligent young man. And dating Harry Osborn was amazing as it was overwhelming at times.

You had met him at work, being one of the many secretaries at Oscorp, you ran into him randomly one day when you were sent out by your boss to get him some coffee. Though, he was entirely different from what your coworkers had said he was. They said that he was an asshole, a playboy who didn’t care about anyone but himself. And to an extent, they were right.

But you were greatly surprised when he asked if you wanted to go out for coffee with him, since he was going out to get some anyway, and it shocked you. You tried telling him that you didn’t want to get in trouble with your boss, that you needed to get his coffee and bring it back to him pronto. Harry just continued to grin, saying that you wouldn’t get in trouble, since he was the boss of your boss. He was so… Charming, and with that grin of his… And, well, Harry counted that coffee outing as your first date.

After a couple of months of being friendly with one another, you had begun noticing little gifts left on your desk. Pretty flowers, snacks, coffee, books, and even cute office supplies. It took you a week for you to realize that Harry had been the one dropping off those little gifts while you were at lunch or running about the Oscorp building for your boss.

Within the next two weeks, Harry took you out on another date. This time to a fancy restaurant where he gifted you - your first of many - very expensive jewelry.

After you began dating, Harry surprised you with being so sweet and so attentive. He always listened to everything you had to say, remembering your likes and dislikes. He surprised you everyday, in every way. He was so obvious that he loved you. By the way he talked to you, looked at you, held you…

And on top of that, Harry would practically spoil you at every chance he could find. Clothes, shoes, bags, jewelry, cars, trips, anything you wanted really; even when you didn’t really need them.

Now, don’t get you wrong, you loved when Harry got you little presents. Who wouldn’t? They were always fun and exciting, you never knew when you’d find one around the penthouse or around his office. But, you felt terrible about it sometimes. He was spending so much money on you…

“Harry,” You sighed, closing the rectangular, red velvet box, looking up at him as you sat on the edge of your shared king-sized bed. “You know I love you, forever so, but I don’t need another pair of matching pearl bracelets.” You bit your bottom lip, with a small smile.

Harry only shook his head, waving a hand dismissively as he sat in front of you on the floor, kneeling as if he was going to propose. You felt that tingle of anxiety; this wouldn’t be the first time he tried to propose. You just weren’t ready… But when you were, you’d say ‘yes.’ “They match the necklace from yesterday.” He explained, and you nodded.

“I know, baby. But I don’t need all these expensive gifts. I feel terrible that you’re spending all this money on me.” You sat the box to the side next to you. “I know that gift-giving is one of your love languages.” Your voice softened as you reached out to gently cup his face, thumb grazing over his cheek. “But, Harry, what I really want is just you. Your time, your presence… The little moments that we share. Those mean more to me than anything money could buy.” You watched as Harry’s expression softened as well, you could tell he was listening. “I love how thoughtful you are, and I don’t want you to stop. I just want you to know that I already feel like the luckiest person in the world just having you by my side.” You leaned in closer, brushing his brown hair away from his forehead with your free hand before pressing a soft kiss to it. “That’s more than enough for me.”

Harry pursed his lips, his hands reaching up to take your from his cheek, “But you deserve precious jewels and gems. All of them. Everything. I’d buy you the world if you asked me to.”

You sighed gently, tilting your head to the side as your heart began to melt. “You’re too sweet. But, honey, it’s not about how expensive something is. It’s about the thought and the meaning behind the gifts.” You spoke, bringing your free hand to brush his dark hair from his eyes once more; his hair was addicting, you’d touch it forever if you could, “And this is not me saying that I don’t appreciate everything you’ve given me. I do.” You bit your lip, “To be honest, I loved all the gifts you gave me before we were dating too.”

Harry stared up at you before slowly nodding, an unreadable look upon his face. “Alright, my darling.” He looked off to the side thoughtfully, but you felt an odd tension in the air, something was off.

~~~

It wasn’t until three weeks later that you found a small velvet box on your nightstand after you finished getting ready in the bathroom for a gala. Slowly, you grabbed the box and opened it, gasping lightly at the sight of the dainty pendant. It wasn’t like Harry’s past gifts, this wasn’t as extravagant or expensive-looking. It was just a simple pendant, heart-shaped, in a soft gold.

The bedroom door opened, and you turned to see Harry enter; he was dressed handsomely in his ebony suit. Adjusting his tie, he gave you a grin, noticing your shocked - and overjoyed - expression. “I was heading to get your coffee yesterday, passed by this small antique shop. Saw it in the window and I thought of you.” He spoke, stopping in front of you and taking the necklace out from the box.

Automatically, you turned, your shocked expression changing into one of absolute admiration; if it was possible, you’d be mush on the floor right about now. Harry unclasped the chain, carefully looping it around your neck, the heart-shaped pendant resting on the center of your chest as he clasped it secure; his fingers briskly brushing against your warm skin.

“Harry..,” You sighed breathily, taking the pendant in your hands, “It’s beautiful. Thank you.”

You turned around as Harry reached out to brush your hair behind your ear, “You’re beautiful.” He muttered, his fingers grazing across your cheek before bringing both of his hands to your waist.

“You’re beautiful too,” You let out a small chuckle, biting your lip, “That’s my favorite suit on you.” You raised your hands, smoothing out the lapels.

“I know,” Harry replied knowingly, a smirk on his face. “And you know… We don’t have to go to this gala.” Harry mused, pulling you closer, into his chest.

“Oh, really?” You asked, still worrying on your bottom lip, “Why the change of mind?”

“Well..,” Harry trailed off, raising a hand to allow his thumb to brush over your lips, freeing your bottom lip from your teeth. “I saw that there’s a new movie on Netflix that I thought you might enjoy. And we could order some take-out, eat that leftover ice cream in the freezer, and oh, I don’t know…” He trailed off, making you huff in amusement.

“All dressed up like this?” You asked, and he nodded. You shook your head, amused, “I just can’t with you sometimes, Harry Osborn.”

~~~

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justsomerandomfanfic · 11 days ago

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justsomerandomfanfic · 11 days ago

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Sleepy Confessions - Ryan!Ken X GN (Human) Reader

Title: Sleepy Confessions

Ryan!Ken X GN (Human) Reader

Additional Characters: Barbie/Barbara (Mentioned), The other Kens (Mentioned), the other Barbies (Mentioned), Allan (Mentioned), and Midge (Mentioned), and Weird Barbie (Mentioned)

WC: 3,567

Warnings: Reader is a human, italics, love at first sight?, mentions of injuries, sort of idiots in love, friends to lovers, Reader gets a little delirious when sleepy, gentleman Ken, Post-Barbie Movie events, Ken got his own Mojo Dojo Casa House, mini angst/Ken's slightly insecure?, and fluff

The warm sun kissed your skin as you sat comfortably on one of the beach chairs of Barbie Land's iconic pink beach. The weather was perfect for a day on the beach, as it always was in Barbie Land. But you weren't alone, no. A few Barbies were chatting together, and some were over by the ice cream stand. There were even a few sunbathing. Allan was even enjoying the beach, cheering on four Kens playing volleyball.

Speaking of Kens... Ken, your best friend, was in the middle of that volleyball game. He stood out from the other Kens as he spiked the ball with dramatic flair. His enthusiasm was impossible to miss, and every now and then, you’d catch him sneaking glances your way, clearly hoping that you were watching. You couldn't help but smile.

You’d glance up every now and then - after you finished a chapter - a mix of admiration and something deeper swirled in your stomach. ‘Is this what they mean by butterflies?’ You wondered, biting your lip. You shook your head, trying to focus on your book, but the words danced off the page, blending into the background of laughter and cheers.

You met Ken after you met Barbie - well, Barbara, but she always went by 'Barbie'. You became fast friends with her, but you didn't find out that she used to be an actual Barbie until a couple of months later. It was kind of hard to believe at first, but she told you everything; Barbie Land, the other Barbies, the Kens, the overtaking of Barbie Land - everything. It was surreal, but you believed her. And it wasn't long until she invited you to come with her on her visit to Barbie Land.

When you arrived in Barbie Land with Barbie by your side, the bright colors and perfect blue skies seemed almost too beautiful to be real. Barbie then introduced you to all the other Barbies and some of the Kens. And that was when you met the Ken.

When you first laid eyes on him, you couldn't help but notice how pretty he was. Tall with blonde hair and shimmering blue eyes... And you had to admit - only to yourself - that he had quite the body too. His sun-kissed skin and chiseled abs gave him an almost divine appearance, as if he had been sculpted by the gods themselves. He looked like a Ken doll, which only made sense since he was one.

Ken, on the other hand, froze when he first saw you. He stared at you, his eyes wide. Starstruck, he seemed at a loss for words and what to do, just standing there. It didn’t take long for him to snap out of it, though. Ken quickly composed himself, flashing his signature smile and slipping back into his charming, easygoing self. But beneath the surface, his plastic heart raced - pounding against his plastic ribcage - and he could feel a warmth rising in his cheeks. Long story short, after being introduced, you and Ken slowly grew closer, becoming best friends.

So, there you were, sitting in that plastic beach chair, reading one of your favorite books that you brought from home, and looking absolutely gorgeous. It was hard for Ken to focus on his volleyball game; his thoughts kept drifting back to you. He felt incredibly lucky to have you as his best friend, but beneath that admiration lay a whirlwind of nerves.

Ken had feelings for you - deep feelings. Ever since that first day both you and him met, his emotions had only grown stronger, like a wave building up before crashing down upon the shore. He was nervous, scared even, to tell you how he truly felt. Each laugh you shared and every moment spent together only fueled the fire in his plastic heart. He wanted to impress you - make you laugh, show you how fun and charming he was and could be.

There was also a small voice in the back of his mind, a voice telling him that you wouldn’t feel the same. But he pushed that voice away.

After he hit the volleyball back over the net, he turned his head to look back over at you, and all those doubts left his racing mind as he watched you read; the small smile on your face as you took a sip of your drink in your favorite tumbler that you brought from home. You looked radiant, lost in your book. His muscles tensed, not from the exertion of playing but from the anticipation of your gaze meeting his. If only you’d look up…

However, his trance was soon broken when the volleyball hit him right smack-dab against the side of his head. With an 'oof', Ken fell to the side, and with the 'thump,' you finally looked up from your book. Seeing Ken sitting on the ground, rubbing the side of his head with the volleyball rolling to a stop beside him.

You quickly stood from your seat, not even caring to put your bookmark in to save your place. "Ken!" You rushed over, plopping down on the plastic, pink sand beside him, "Are you alright? What happened?" You asked as a few Barbies and Ken circled.

Ken scrunched up his face, still rubbing his cheek, “Volleyball.” He muttered, secretly loving the attention you were giving him. He always loved when you paid attention to him, if it wasn’t obvious.

"Yeah, sorry, Ken." One Ken spoke up, presumably the one who served the ball, "I thought you were going to hit it back."

Your Ken shook his head, "Nah, Ken, it's cool. I'm okay."

As the Barbies and Kens left, going back to their usual business, you stayed by his side, a small smile forming on your face. "Are you sure you're okay?" You asked, reaching up with a hand to brush the stray strands of Ken's blond hair away from his forehead, your fingers occasionally grazing his skin. Your fingers lingered longer than intended. You caught yourself lost in the moment, heart racing as you marveled at how soft his hair felt. How come you had never brushed your fingers in his hair until now?

Ken blushed, practically melting as you continued to play with his hair. "Yeah, I'm okay," He chuckled nervously, his words snapping you out of your daze.

"Good," You replied, your hand leaving his hair as you stood up and offered your hand out for him to take. "I'm really glad you're okay... Because I need someone to be my dance partner at the party tonight.”

‘Oh, right, the party…’ Ken thought, and all the aches and pains on the side of his face disappeared, a smile growing on his lips, “Are you excited?”

“Oh, I am very excited,” You giggled out, not even realizing that you were still holding Ken’s hand. “I love these parties. I get to have fun with all my friends, and I get to spend more time with you.”

Ken’s smile faltered for a second as your words sank in. His plastic heart nearly skipped a beat. “Me too,” He mumbled, trying to hide how much your simple words meant to him. You felt a flutter of hope in your chest as you met his gaze. It felt like the perfect moment - one you had secretly wished for. Ken took a deep breath, his eyes softening, “You know, there’s something I’ve been meaning to tell you…”

Just as he was about to reveal his feelings, another Ken burst onto the scene, grinning widely. “Hey, Ken! Want to play another round?” His voice boomed, shattering the intimate moment between you.

You watched Ken’s gaze shift, frustration flashing across his face briefly. “Uh, yeah, sure!” He replied, the words tumbling out without thought. The smile he forced didn’t quite reach his eyes, and your heart sank a little, sensing the sudden change in mood.

“Maybe you can tell me later?” You asked, and Ken let out a sigh, nodding. You lightly squeezed his hand in yours, “It’s not like I’m going anywhere anytime soon.” You then leaned in and pressed a reassuring kiss to his cheek. The moment your lips touched his skin, Ken’s expression brightened instantly.

“Yeah, I’ll- I’ll tell you later.” He agreed, reluctantly letting his hand slip from yours, and joining the other Kens for the next round of Volleyball.

He’d tell you later…

~~~

The party was in full swing, vibrant and alive, just like every gathering in Barbie Land. The glow of several spinning disco balls, sent colorful lights across the large dance floor. Barbies, Kens, Weird Barbie, Allan, and Midge danced to the catchy, upbeat music that filled the air. The synchronized choreography was impressive as ever - each move perfectly timed as everyone twirled, clapped, and laughed together.

Everyone was dressed in a variety of outfits - some in flowing dresses that glittered in the light, while others rocked sharp pantsuits or sleek jumpsuits. Despite what most people in the Real World thought, it wasn’t all pink, either. Splashes of blue, green, yellow - and practically every color of the rainbow popped up among the sea of dancers. Weird Barbie stood out in her eccentric, mismatched outfit, grooving on the dance floor with Midge by her side - who was still pregnant - laughing and enjoying the moment. Allan, meanwhile, stood near the edge, cheering on the crowd, doing little dance moves of his own.

Amidst the party, you stood in a dazzling outfit you borrowed, feeling just a bit out of place, but confident. The fabric shimmed with each sway of your hips as you slipped through the room, eyes searching for one person - Ken. Your Ken.

When you finally spotted him, facing away, and absorbed in the music, you grinned, sneaking up behind him. With a playful tap on his shoulder, Ken spun around, and the moment his bright, ocean blue eyes landed on you, his smile widened, and for a split second, he looked taken aback.

His eyes scanned you, lingering on your outfit, clearly stunned. Your cheeks flushed under his gaze, “So… What do you think? I borrowed it.” You asked, with a quick spin.

Ken’s eyes sparkled as he took a step closer, “You look incredible. The most beautiful person in the room.”

Warmth flooded your chest at his words, though you tried to play it cool. “Really?” You asked with a soft smile, your voice teasing but a little unsure.

Ken’s gaze lingered on you, and he nodded, his expression softer than you’d ever seen. "Absolutely. I feel like the luckiest Ken in the world just standing here beside you." The sincerity in his voice sent a flutter through your chest, enveloping you in a sense of vulnerability that felt oddly comforting. Ken’s hand hesitated for only a moment before he held it out towards you, his voice a bit more confident this time, “Would you like to dance with me?”

Your lips curved into a grin as you slipped your hand instantly into his, nodding, “I would love to.”

Ken’s smile grew impossibly wide as he led you onto the dance floor. The two of you danced, moving in sync, laughter bubbling between you. With each spin and step, you found yourself sinking deeper and deeper into the comfort of Ken's embrace. His charm enveloped you, his warmth radiated like pure sunshine, and his presence felt like home - wrapping around you in a feeling that was both exhilarating and sweet.

You were having so much fun, and as they say… Time flies when you’re having fun. Before you knew it, two hours had passed in what felt like a heartbeat. Your arms were draped around Ken’s neck, your cheek resting gently against his chest as you both swayed softly side to side, Ken’s hands were around your waist; holding you close. You felt a sense of peace, the weight of the evening’s excitement settling in; your body relaxed into his. You let out a tiny yawn. All this dancing was making you sleepy, but you didn’t want the night to end. The night ending meant you’d have to go home, and that meant leaving Ken.

Ken's chest rose and fell with the deep breaths he tried to control. He was overwhelmed, not by the party, not by the dancing, but by you. Being this close to you, feeling you against him, he thought his plastic heart might burst. Every movement, every soft breath you took, stirred something within him, a deep sense of happiness and absolute adoration.

He gently placed his cheek against the top of your head, closing his eyes. And in that moment, Ken couldn’t imagine wanting anything more than this - just you, in his arms, feeling like the luckiest Ken in the world.

You let out another yawn, this time longer. More noticeable.

Ken paused the gentle swaying, looking down to find your eyes closed, a serene, tired smile gracing your lips. You looked so comfortable in his arms. Raising a hand from your waist, he gently brushed his fingers through your hair, earning a soft sigh from you as your cheek nuzzled into the fabric of his shirt. In that moment, he realized he never wanted to let you go, not now, not ever.

“Hey,” He murmured softly, his voice barely above a whisper as he brushed a strand of hair behind your ear. “You’re tired... Do you want to go home?”

“I’m too tired to go home, all the campervans and bikes… Too much work.” You admitted as your eyes fluttered open and you looked up at him, “Can I stay at your house?”

Ken nodded, his heart racing at the thought of you staying with him. “Of course, you can stay at my house,” He said, a smile creeping onto his face. “Do you want me to carry you? So you don’t have to walk anymore? You’ve been dancing all night.”

You sighed, looking up at him as you nodded; he was too sweet. “Piggyback?”

Ken, nodded, “Piggyback.”

You slipped your arms from his neck as he turned around and bent down. Hopping onto his back, you looped your arms back around his neck, his hands grasping your legs to stabilize you.

As Ken began walking toward his mojo dojo casa house, the warmth of you against his back and the sweet scent of your hair, made him feel a sense of euphoria he had never experienced before. He couldn’t remember the last time he felt this happy - this connected to someone.

You began to hum the tune that had been playing at the party, a sweet, melodic sound that blended perfectly with the night air. Your exhaustion made everything feel more dreamlike, the world around you beginning to blur. Nestling your face against Ken’s neck, you didn’t notice the way your humming vibrated against his skin, unintentionally sending delightful shivers down his spine.

He then felt you playfully tugging at his hair with a hand, a gentle movement that made him chuckle. “What are you doing back there?” He asked, glancing over his shoulder, a grin plastered on his face.

“Just admiring the softness,” You replied with a sleepy giggle, your eyes barely open. “You have the softest hair, Ken. I could play with it all day.”

His cheeks flushed at your words, and he couldn’t help but smile wider. “I’m glad you think so.”

“Well, it’s true! You’re like… A big fluffy cloud.” Your voice was dreamy, and Ken couldn’t help but feel like he was floating along with you. You continued to run your fingers through his hair, your touch gentle and soothing. “I always have so much fun with you…” You murmured, your words slightly slurred by fatigue. “You make me so happy.”

His smile widened, “You make me so happy too.”

You sighed contentedly, resting your head back against his shoulder. The rhythmic motion of his footsteps and the warmth of his body made you feel the tug of sleep pull at you. As you drifted in and out of consciousness, a thought crossed your mind. “Hey, Ken…” You started, your voice barely above a whisper. “What was it you wanted to say during the volleyball game?”

Ken hesitated as he felt the heat rising in his cheeks. The words felt trapped in his throat. Anxiety crept in, tightening around his chest. He took a shaky breath, summoning all his courage. “Um… It’s just…” He stammered, “I just wanted to say… I like you.” He braced himself for your reaction.

Silence enveloped you both, and Ken’s heart sank, worry gnawing at him. Had he said too much? Was it too soon? Just as doubt threatened to consume him, he heard, “I like you too, Ken.”

“I mean more than like, like ‘I wanna be your boyfriend’ like.” The words left Ken’s mouth before he could fully process them, and at that moment he wanted the world to swallow him whole.

And then you spoke, “I mean more than like too. Like ‘I would love you to be my boyfriend’ like.” There was amusement in your voice, despite how tired you were.

His breath caught in his throat, a mix of disbelief and joy flooding through him. Overwhelmed with so many emotions, he felt happy tears prick at the corners of his eyes, “Really?” He managed to ask, his voice trembling.

“Really.” You replied as you leaned forward slightly and pressed a tender kiss to his jaw - the closest part of his face you could reach from where you were on his back. It was sweet and made his heart swell, melt, and turn to pink goo all at once. “You’re everything to me, Ken.” You murmured, your eyelids growing heavier.

As you nestled deeper against him, your breathing slowed, and he felt your weight become more relaxed. Ken couldn’t help but smile, “You’re everything to me too.”

The rest of the walk to his mojo dojo casa house went by in a flash. Finding his bedroom, he sat down on the edge of the bed, letting you go. You had somewhat woken up at this point, your hand rubbing your cheek as a sleepy smile graced your lips. Your eyelashes fluttered, watching as Ken dug through his closet, grabbing some clothes of his that you could use as pajamas.

He placed the light blue sweatpants and a soft T-shirt on the bed beside you, and your heart swelled at the sight of them. You loved how Ken always thought of you.

As he knelt down to help you out of your shoes, you couldn’t help but gaze at him as if he hung the stars in the sky. This moment felt perfect. Ken’s focused expression, the way his fingers brushed against your ankle, made your heart race in a way you never expected; your fingers instantly went back into his hair, you just couldn’t get enough.

Once your shoes were off, he grabbed his own pajamas and glanced back at you with a shy smile. “Uh, do you want to change in the bathroom or here?” He said softly, his cheeks tinged with pink; shuffling his foot against the floor.

“Here is good.” You nodded, and Ken nodded back.

“I'll change in the bathroom then. Uh, be right back.” He spoke, before leaving you to change.

“Okay,” You muttered, watching him go before you then quickly changed into his clothes, reveling in how soft and comfortable they felt against your skin. You were dreading the morning, not wanting to return them. But, oh, who were you kidding? He probably wasn’t going to get them back.

When Ken came back up to the bedroom, wearing only his pair of black sweats, he paused momentarily in the doorway, his breath hitching at the sight of you in his clothes. He smiled warmly, his eyes softening as he looked at you. “You know,” He said quietly, almost as if thinking out loud, “My clothes suit you better than they do me. Maybe I should just let you keep them.”

“I have no objections to that.” You teased lightly, making Ken chuckle - almost shyly - his hand coming up to rub the back of his neck.

“Well, uh, I’ll be on the couch if you need me-”

“Ken,” You interrupted, you tilted your head, “You could sleep next to me.”

“Are you sure?” He asked, his eyes brightening with hope.

“Yes, of course. Now, come here.” You replied, tapping the bed with your hand, “I want cuddles.” With a grin that lit up his whole face, Ken turned to the side, fist-bumping the air - letting out a little ‘yes’ - before he climbed into bed beside you; you both pulled the cozy blanket up over your bodies. As the fabric settled around you, you noticed the playful pattern of horses galloping across it, making your tired smile widen at the sight. Flipping onto your side, your eyes met his, “Goodnight, Ken.”

“Goodnight, Y/N,” He replied, feeling a wave of overwhelming happiness wash over him as he wrapped a tentative arm around you. As he did, you instinctively curled into him, your head resting against his bare chest, arms around his waist.

And as you both drifted off to sleep, Ken couldn't shake the blissful smile on his face, hoping that when he woke up that you'd still be wrapped up in his arms, proving that this wasn't all just a dream.

~~~

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justsomerandomfanfic · 11 days ago

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A Midnight Waltz With The Pharaoh - Ahkmenrah X Female Reader

Title: A Midnight Waltz With The Pharaoh

Ahkmenrah X Female Reader

Additional Characters: Larry, Teddy, Sacagawea (Mentioned), Dexter, Rexy, Octavius, Jed, Reader's friends, Nick (Mentioned), Christopher Columbus (Mentioned), Eastern Island Head (Mentioned), and The Huns (Mentioned)

WC: 4,154

Warnings: Halloween fic, italics, teasing, banter, flirting?, nicknames, confession, friends to lovers, and it's just a lot of fluff

The golden leaves of Autumn gently blew in the October breeze, making their way to the ground. Sidewalks and nearby parks were practically covered in fallen, dead leaves; in hues of gold, yellow, red, and brown. Street lamps were on bright, lighting the way for those few who passed by in the dark of night. It was the middle of the month, on a weekday. You were helping Larry decorate for the upcoming spooky holiday; Halloween - with some additional help from a few of the other exhibits.

Teddy and Sacagawea were helping set up the little plastic, glow-in-the-dark pumpkins; placing them on the front desk with the fake battery candles that they had placed earlier. Dexter - who had always had a soft spot for you, and never misbehaved with you - helped with sticking the paper black bats, ghosts, and pumpkins to the walls. And, with the help of Rexy - and Octavius and Jed leading the dino - you were able to hang up the many paper banners, and fairy lights.

Halloween was a couple of days away, and you were super excited. Halloween was probably your favorite holiday. You loved the costumes, the food, the candy, parties, movies; just having fun. It was a time that made you feel like a kid again. You loved Halloween, so much so, that the day after Halloween, you were back to planning the next one. You always ended up with a plan for your Halloween costume months before the actual date.

Finishing the many banners and fairy lights, you thanked Rexy for helping you, giving him a few rubs on the nose. "Thanks, Rexy." You cooed, before looking down at the remote-controlled car, "And thank you, Oct and Jed. You both were a great help."

"It was our pleasure to assist you, dear friend," Octavius spoke, his head popping out the window.

"Yeah," Jed, popped his own head out the driver's side window, "Let us know if ya need any more help!" He tipped his hat.

Nodding, you waved them goodbye for the time being, watching as Rexy followed after his bone, down the hall.

"What an enchanting transformation," You heard a voice, making your smile instantly brighten. Turning around, you watched as Ahkmenrah entered the main room. His golden attire reflected beautifully against the museum lights as his eyes surveyed the Halloween decorations for a moment, before turning back to look at you. "Are these apparitions and pumpkins a part of your more modern festivities?"

Walking over, you felt butterflies instantly erupt in your stomach, you clasped your hands together in front of you. "Yeah, we use ghosts, bats, pumpkins, witches, and more for Halloween. Anything creepy and spooky is used." You shrugged, "Fun, right?"

He nodded, his head tilting slightly to the side as he looked at all of the decorations. "Indeed. The holiday does sound quite enjoyable." You had actually explained Halloween to Ahkmenrah a while ago. He knew the history, the traditions, and whatnot. Overall, you were really excited for Ahkmenrah to experience his first-ever Halloween. Well, with you, at least.

You couldn't help the way your heart raced whenever Ahkmenrah was near. His radiant, gentle smile, deep blue eyes that seemed to hold centuries of wisdom, and the way he carried himself with such effortless grace had captivated you from the moment you met him.

It was unlike anything you'd ever experienced. This soft, flowy feeling that seemed to wash over you whenever he was near, or even when just his image crossed your mind. It wasn’t just his undeniable good looks; it was the way he spoke, gentle yet commanding, and the kindness that radiated from him like the sun. And oh, how easy it would be to worship that sun, to bask in his warmth forever, if only you had the chance.

The thought made your cheeks flush, and you mentally shook your head, embarrassed by how hopelessly smitten you sounded, even in your own mind.

Quickly snapping out of your thoughts, you cleared your throat. "So, are you planning to dress up for the Halloween party tomorrow night?"

He looked at you curiously, a faint smirk tugging at his lips. "Dress up?"

"Yeah, like in a costume," You explained, "If you want, I can go out and find something for you in the morning. We could make you a wizard or... I don’t know, anything you want!" You laughed softly, your excitement bubbling over.

Ahkmenrah chuckled, a sound that made your heart instantly flutter. "I appreciate the offer, but I think being a Pharaoh will suffice."

You grinned, rolling your eyes playfully. "Fair enough. You’re kind of a natural at it."

"Perhaps it's the centuries of practice,” His smile widened, a glimmer of amusement in his eyes, "And what about you?" He then asked, his expression turning curious. "What will you be for this celebration?"

"Oh, uh, it’s a surprise," You replied, fidgeting slightly with your hands in front of you. "It’s part of a group costume with my friends. We planned it months ago."

"Your friends?" He tilted his head. "You were planning to spend the holiday with them?"

"Yeah, we usually go to a party together every year," You admitted, a small smile on your lips. "But this year, I decided I’d stay here and celebrate with you, Larry, Rexy, Dexter, and everyone else."

"Have you considered asking Larry if your friends could join us here?" Ahkmenrah suggested, and his question made you pause.

You shrugged, the idea hadn’t really crossed your mind. "I don’t know if that’s allowed. You know, with the whole secret about the exhibits being alive and all." You gestured vaguely. "It’s not like the special night program we do sometimes where everything’s staged. This would be... Different."

Ahkmenrah nodded thoughtfully. "I see. That is quite understandable. Still, if it’s something you’d like, perhaps Larry could make an exception."

You shook your head, waving your hand in the air dismissively. "Nah, it’s okay. My friends don’t mind, and honestly, neither do I. I’d rather be here with yo- everyone. It feels more special this way. Our first Halloween all together."

His expression softened, his warm smile making your heart skip a beat. "Then I look forward to celebrating this holiday with you. It will be... A night to remember."

"Yeah," You murmured, returning his smile as warmth spread through your chest. "It definitely will be."

~~~

Later that night, a few hours before dawn, as you were busy playing hide-and-seek with Dexter, Ahkmenrah made his way through the museum with determination. His footsteps echoed through the quiet halls as he searched room to room, finally finding Larry and Teddy; spotting them from the balcony near the stairs.

He approached them, his usual calm demeanor replaced with a subtle urgency. He had been thinking about it for a good thirty minutes now, and he felt that it was important.

“Larry,” He began, his voice steady but with an edge of sincerity, Larry turned, raising an eyebrow, but his face softened when he saw the seriousness in the Pharaoh's expression. He glanced at Teddy and back, “I apologize for interrupting.”

“Nonsense,” Teddy grinned, “We were just finishing up away. Besides, I should go check on Sacagawea before the night ends.” He bowed curtly to both of the men, “Ahkmenrah. Lawrence.” With a final nod, Teddy turned and exited the room, his footsteps echoing down the hallway as he left.

Once Teddy was out of earshot, Larry turned his attention to Ahkmenrah, a curious glint in his eye. "So," He began, a half-smile forming, “What’s up, Ahk?”

The Pharaoh hesitated for a moment, then spoke clearly, “I have something I must ask of you.”

~~~

The atmosphere was buzzing with excitement as you scrambled through the museum, making sure everything was set for the Halloween party. The walls were lined with banners, paper ghosts hung from the ceiling, and soft fairy lights flickered in the dark corners, casting a warm glow over everything. The punch bowl sat on the table, the bright orange liquid inside reflecting the light from the nearby jack-o'-lanterns. You made sure it was filled and had enough cups around it, then turned to double-check the party games.

The board game stack was neatly arranged, and the pin-the-broom-on-the-witch poster was ready to be hung. You had planned this party carefully, wanting it to be perfect - it only made sense why you were the one to organize the party, you were the museum’s event coordinator after all - and now, it was finally coming together.

The music from an old Halloween playlist drifted through the air - classic spooky tracks mixed with upbeat songs like “Thriller” and “Ghostbusters.” The eerie melodies provided the perfect backdrop as you hummed along, adding the final touches to the decorations you had helped set up the day before. Your eyes flickered to the clock on the wall. It wasn��t quite time for everyone to arrive, but you were ready for them. The sun was just beginning to set…

“Everything ready?” You heard Larry from beside you.

Turning, you nodded your head and let out a sigh, “Yeah, all ready, and almost time for our guests to arrive.” It was only then that you realized Larry wasn’t dressed up at all. He was still dressed in his usual night guard uniform. “You’re not dressing up?” You asked, raising an eyebrow.

He shrugged nonchalantly. “I’m in my costume. I’m a night guard.”

You huffed, rolling your eyes. "Really, Larry? That's your idea of a costume?"

He shot you a grin. "It’s a classic."

You only huffed in reply.

Soon enough, the party was in full swing, and you found yourself standing by the punch bowl, watching the chaos unfold. Laughter and chatter filled the air, and the energy in the room was infectious.

Teddy and Sacagawea were sitting together on Teddy’s platform, chatting; just being a couple of love birds. Meanwhile, Rexy was running around like a playful puppy, chasing after Nick, who was dressed in an inflatable dinosaur costume. The two were having a hilarious race around the room.

On the front desk, Jed and Oct danced together, trying to outdo each other with moves that ranged from unexpectedly graceful to downright goofy; drawing a small crowd of other miniatures who cheered them on. Dexter was also dancing on the front desk, wearing a little cowboy hat you’d given him. It was a perfect fit.

Everyone was having an amazing time, most, if not all, of the exhibits dancing on the large dance floor. Even the Eastern Island Head was humming along to the music from the hallway.

And then you looked up, your attention on Ahkmenrah, who stood on the balcony. His hands flew over the DJ controls, but it was his body - how he moved - that caught your eye. His movements were mesmerizing, you couldn’t help but stare as a smile graced your lips. Suddenly, he met your gaze, grinning widely when he caught sight of you. He waved and continued to shimmy, his hips moving to the beat of "Monster Mash". You smiled in return and waved back, a warm feeling filling your chest, and embarrassment for getting caught staring.

"Hey, kid," Larry's voice broke through your thoughts, pulling your attention away from the balcony. You tried to act nonchalant, despite your face burning from getting caught.

"Yeah, Larry?" You asked, forcing a casual grin as he gave you a knowing look.

He gestured to the museum's front doors with a lazy jab of his thumb. "I think someone is here to see you."

You blinked in surprise, confusion creeping onto your face as you glanced at the doors. "Huh?"

Larry feigned ignorance, before turning you toward the entrance. "Better go answer the door."

He gave you a gentle push in the direction of the doors, and you sighed, rolling your eyes. Looking back at him, you saw him busying himself with another cup of punch. You shook your head, then turned and approached the doors. Tugging the handle, you pushed them open, surprised when you came face to face with two of your best friends.

"Hey, girl!" Your first friend greeted you, pulling you into a tight hug. "Thought you could party without us?"

You stood there, stunned, your mouth hanging open for a moment before you burst into laughter. "What- what are you guys doing here?" You asked, still in shock, but excited all the same.

Your second friend grinned, "Your friend Larry called us," They said with a wink. “A Halloween party at midnight? Amazing! Why didn't you invite us?” They pouted jokingly, making you huff.

“I wasn't sure my boss would let me. But he called you so…” You shrugged as your first friend peered over your shoulder.

“It looks like everyone from the night program is here.” They spoke and you let out a nervous chuckle.

“Yeah, we’re all really close. They are practically family.” You tried to sound as convincing as possible, but it was true, and your friends seemed to buy it. "How did Larry get their numbers?" You then thought, but that didn't matter. Grinning, you pulled your two friends inside, feeling the warmth of the museum flood over you as you laughed excitedly. "Nevermind all that though! I can't believe you’re here! This is going to be so much fun!"

You looked back at Larry, hoping for some explanation as to why your friends were here, but he only nodded toward the balcony, gesturing to Ahkmenrah with a subtle nudge of his head. You looked up just in time to see Ahkmenrah glance down at you. The moment his eyes met yours, he grinned, and as if on cue, your favorite Halloween song started playing. It filled the room, the familiar beat echoing in your chest. His smile turned playful, and with a quick wink, he pointed down at you from the balcony; dedicating the song to you.

Your first friend wiggled their eyebrows at you, a teasing smile on their lips. "Is that your boyfriend?" They teased, voice filled with mischief as they nudged you in the side.

"No, uh, he’s just-" But the words got lost as your excitement overtook you. Trying to ignore your warm cheeks, you grabbed both of your friends’ hands, pulling them toward the dancefloor with a grin that stretched from ear to ear. "Let’s dance! We’ve got a Halloween tradition to keep alive!"

The three of you joined the crowd, dancing, laughing, and enjoying the night. And in that moment, surrounded by friends, music, and the warmth of the museum, you felt like everything was perfect.

You made sure to thank Ahkmenrah later.

~~~

As the night continued, you found yourself in front of the museum’s front desk, laughing as you held Dexter’s tiny furry hands. The capuchin monkey stood on the desk, chittering excitedly, his head nodding to the beat of the Halloween song playing softly in the background.

“You’re quite the dancer, Dexter,” You teased, swaying back and forth, exaggerating your movements to match his jerky little hops. His mischievous chatter filled the air, and you couldn’t help but grin. You spun him gently, his tiny paws grasping your hand as you twirled him like a ballroom dancer. “A regular Fred Astaire, aren’t you?” Dexter responded with a dramatic squeak, hopping up and down in excitement, clearly enjoying the attention, his cowboy hat having fallen off a while ago. “Thanks for being my dance partner tonight, buddy,” You said softly, your voice affectionate.

From the corner of your eye, you noticed Ahkmenrah walking towards the both of you, watching with an amused smile on his face. He stopped beside you - a few mere feet away - leaning against the front desk, arms crossed.

"You two make quite the dancing pair," He remarked, his voice carrying easily over the low music.

You glanced up at him, cheeks flushing slightly as you rolled your eyes playfully. “Jealous, your Highness?” You quipped as Dexter jumped up on your shoulder, “He’s a great dancer.”

Dexter, seemingly satisfied with his performance, hopped down from your shoulder and scampered toward the punch bowl, leaving you and Ahkmenrah alone.

The Pharaoh stepped closer, his hands now clasped behind his back as he regarded you with an expression that was equal parts gentle and intent. Then, with a graceful motion, he extended his hand toward you, palm up, his golden bracelets catching the soft light.

“Would you do me the honor of a dance?” He asked, his eyes locking onto yours, and without hesitation, you placed your hand in his.

“I’d love to,” You replied before he gently guided you toward the center of the makeshift dance floor.

As if on cue, the music transitioned seamlessly into a slow, romantic melody that seemed almost too perfect for the moment; though a bit odd since it wasn’t very Halloweeny, but you didn’t mind. You glanced up at him in surprise, a grin tugging at your lips. “Did you plan this?”

Ahkmenrah smiled down at you as he placed his free hand lightly at your waist, the other still holding yours. “Perhaps,” He teased, “Or perhaps the universe simply wanted this moment to be ours.”

You couldn’t help but laugh softly as you looked up at the DJ booth on the balcony, spotting Larry manning the console. As he led you in the slow dance, it struck you how effortlessly he made you feel as if you belonged right there, in his arms.

“You look beautiful tonight,” He murmured after a moment, his voice so soft you almost missed it. “I had planned to tell you earlier.”

You looked up at him, surprised by the quiet confession. “Thank you,” You replied. “You’re not too bad yourself.”

Your fingers brushed against the intricate beads on his shoulder, adorning his wesekh, tracing their smooth texture absently as you lowered your eyes, suddenly overwhelmed by the weight of his gaze. Nervously, you glanced around the room, seeking distraction.

One of your friends was animatedly chatting with Christopher Columbus - your friend was fluent in Italian - their laughter carried faintly over the music, while your other friend was enthusiastically teaching the rules to Monopoly to the Huns, who were listening with rapt attention.

The sight brought a small smile to your lips, and your nerves settled slightly as you looked back up at Ahkmenrah. The question lingered on your mind until it tumbled out. “Did you ask Larry to invite my friends?” You asked, your voice tinged with curiosity. “I mean… I only ever told you about that tradition with them.”

Ahkmenrah’s smile grew softer, almost bashful, as he nodded. “I did,” He admitted, “You spoke of them with such fondness, and it was clear how important they are to you. I wanted you to have them here tonight - to share in something that brings you joy.”

His words left you momentarily speechless, your heart swelling in your chest. “That’s incredibly thoughtful. Thank you.”

He looked at you, almost shyly, and after a beat, his lips curled into that familiar smile, “I must admit, seeing you smile as brightly as you did when your friends arrived… It reminded me of something… The way the sun catches on the Nile, early in the morning, reflecting off the water…”

The way his words tumbled out with such tenderness made your heart skip. You felt your cheeks flush, warmth spreading across your face as you glanced away, trying to suppress the giggle bubbling up in your chest. You bit your lip, trying to steady yourself, but you couldn’t hide the shy, giddy smile tugging at your lips.

Ahkmenrah leaned in slightly, and your breath hitched as his hand left your waist to gently cup your chin, guiding your face upward so you couldn’t look away. He then gently brushed his thumb across your bottom lip, releasing it from your teeth, his touch tender and slow.

“You have the most captivating eyes,” He murmured, his voice low and smooth, “They remind me of the rarest gems - eyes that could belong to a goddess. They gleam with the light of ancient stars, timeless and beautiful. It’s impossible not to be drawn to them… To you.” You stared up at him in awe, unable to form words. His words wrapped around your heart, making your pulse quicken. "You are truly breathtaking," He muttered, his voice soft but filled with an undeniable intensity, as if each word was a vow.

You didn’t know when the dancing had stopped, nor did you care. Everything felt suspended in time, as if the world had momentarily stopped spinning just for the two of you. His touch, the warmth of his hands on your skin, and the magnetic pull between you both was undeniable.

You could feel your pulse hammering in your chest as his blue eyes drifted from your eyes to your lips and back again. You could almost hear his heart matching the rhythm of yours, each beat drawing you closer. His gaze was filled with such quiet intensity, as though he was memorizing every little detail of you - your expressions, the way your chest rose and fell, the softness of your skin beneath his fingers.

His free hand - once clasped in yours - slowly slipped from yours to cup your other cheek. You leaned into his touch instinctively, your own hands finding their way to rest on his broad shoulders. The heat of his hands against your skin, his nearness, made you sigh.

You breathed his name softly, breathlessly. “Ahk…”

At the sound of your voice, he leaned closer, his nose brushing against yours, sending a shiver throughout your body. You could feel the warmth of his breath against your lips, each passing second stretching out like eternity. His hands gently cradled your face, tilting it just so, as if asking for permission - permission to bridge the space between you.

Your heart was racing, your mind a whirlwind of thoughts, yet there was only one thing that mattered in that moment: him.

He paused for a beat, his eyes searching yours, reading the quiet desire in your gaze. Then, without a word, he closed the distance between you. His lips brushed against yours at first, a feather-light touch that sent a thrill through your body. And then, sensing the soft sigh that escaped your lips, he deepened the kiss, pulling you closer.

Every inch of you seemed to melt into him, your entire being consumed by the softness, the heat, the intensity of the moment. His lips were warm, gentle, and yet there was an underlying passion in every movement. The world outside of him ceased to exist.

In his arms, you felt infinite, as if nothing could ever break this perfect moment. His kiss was everything you had dreamed of and more. When you finally pulled away, you both stood there, forehead to forehead, eyes still closed, breathing deeply. The softness of his touch still lingered on your skin, and the weight of his gaze, the truth in it, was more than enough to make your heart soar.

And in that moment, as you stood there in the quiet after the kiss, you both knew there was no going back. You were his, and he was yours. Mind, body, and soul.

But then, from behind you, a teasing wolf-whistle broke the stillness, making your cheeks flush with heat. You instantly pulled away from him, embarrassed, your heart pounding in your chest. Ahkmenrah’s grip on you tightened instinctively as you ducked your head, leaning into his chest to hide your burning face.

"Yeah! Get it, girl!" Your friend called out, their voice playful and loud enough for everyone to hear.

You could feel the gentle rise and fall of his chest as he held you, his warmth enveloping you like a comforting shield.

You sighed against him, a soft laugh escaping your lips despite the heat flooding your face. "I wasn’t expecting that."

"Don’t worry," He murmured softly, "They mean no harm." You then looked back up at him, your heart fluttering in your chest. His eyes softened when they met yours. He leaned down slightly, his lips brushing against your forehead in the most gentle of kisses. “Now, my lotus… Let us dance."

You smiled up at him, heart full, the weight of the moment lingering as the soft melody of the slow song faded into the background. The upbeat rhythm of “Heads Will Roll” suddenly blasted through the speakers, and your excitement reignited. You felt a rush of energy surge through you once more, and without missing a beat, you grinned at Ahkmenrah.

With a laugh, you took his hand, tugging him into the rhythm of the song. He gave you a surprised but delighted grin, before he twirled you out and back into his arms. You couldn't stop smiling, knowing that the night, and this moment, would stay with you for as long as you lived.

~~~

Main Masterlist | Misc. Masterlist

#fluff #cute #x reader #fanfiction #fanfic #x you #x y/n #x female reader #the night at the museum #night at the museum #natm #ahkmenrah #ahkmenrah x reader #ahkmenrah natm #ahkmenrah x female reader #ahkmenrah x you #ahkmenrah x y/n #rami malek #halloween fic

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justsomerandomfanfic · 11 days ago

Note

Heyyyy, noticed you just added BG3 to your requests and I would love an Astarion + m!reader sickfic please! I think it would be cute if he bit a target with sick blood or something and the reader has to take care of him while he acts all dramatic lol Thank you!

HI!!!

I really hope you like your Astarion fanfic! I'm pretty proud of it! <333 Enjoy!

-Chloe <3

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justsomerandomfanfic · 11 days ago

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Under The Weather - Astarion X Male Reader

Title: Under The Weather

Astarion X Male Reader

Additional Characters: Karlach, Gale, Lae'Zel, Shadowheart, Wyll, Volo, Reader's brothers (Mentioned), and Halsin (Mentioned)

Requested By: Anon!

WC: 3,359

Warnings: Sickfic, Astarion is ill, mentions of being sick/ill, italics, nicknames, stubborn Astarion, dramatic Astarion, suggestiveness mentioned briefly, banter, teasing, flirting, Astarion being himself, BG3 canon violence mentioned, blood, blood-drinking, brief mentions of death, mini angst, and fluff

The early morning sun slowly began to rise over the trees, its rays shining down on the dewy morning grass. Astarion groaned softly as he stirred awake from his meditative trance, a hand leaving your body beside his to rub his eyelids. His movements were slow, sluggish as he opened his eyes, his hands falling back down to his sides. His usually sharp eyes were clouded with an unfamiliar heaviness, dull. His head throbbed, and a sharp ache settled in his bones. Turning his head, he could just see the sun's light peeking through his tent, and he winced. Usually, Astarion would love the warmth of the sun’s embrace on his amazingly pale skin, basking in its glow. But, today, it felt different - like a cruel burn to his sight. The brightness only made his headache worse.

He groaned again, his throat as dry as a desert. His vision blurred for a moment, and he closed his eyes, trying to take deep breaths. The sound of your soft breathing beside him was a comfort, but it didn't change the oppressive weight pressing down on his chest. He forced himself to sit up, the movement jerky, but then he suddenly fell back. His back landed with a ‘thump’ on his bedroll, and he let out a pained groan.

“What is wrong with me?” He asked himself mentally, shutting his eyes as you moved beside him.

You stirred from your sleep at the soft groans that escaped from Astarion’s lips. Concern grew in your chest as you shifted, rubbing your eyes to clear the haze of sleep. As your gaze fell on him, you could see the discomfort painted across his face.

“Astarion?” You asked gently, your voice low, as it was early in the morning, and you shifted closer. “Are you alright?”

He cracked one red eye open just enough to glance at you, only to shut it again. “Ah, you’re awake,” He rasped, voice strained. “I’m fine, just… The sun is too loud, if you must know.” He winced, before waving a hand in your general direction lazily, “Perhaps you would be so kind as to keep it down too?”

You shifted even closer, though that wasn’t saying much, since you were almost pressed up against his side from the night before. Your concern deepened as you carefully studied his pale face, his eyes closed, and the way his body trembled faintly in little bursts of shivers. You reached out instinctively, placing a hand on his bare chest, your touch offering a small comfort.

"Astarion," You said softly, "You’re not fine. What’s going on? I’ve never seen you like this."

For a long moment, he said nothing, his lips pressed into a thin line. Finally, he let out a small sigh, almost defeated, and his voice came out low and hoarse. “I told you, I’m fine. Just… A bit under the weather, darling.” He muttered, “It’s nothing you need to worry your pretty little head about.”

But you knew him too well. His tone wasn’t as convincing as he thought. "You don’t have to hide it from me, Astarion," You said softly, shifting closer, your eyes narrowing with concern. "You’re clearly struggling. Let me help you."

He looked at you, a dramatic roll of his eyes accompanying the movement, but it was less teasing and more tired than usual. “Help?” He repeated with an exaggerated scoff, "You know, darling, I’m perfectly capable of managing on my own. I don’t need a healer.”

“Really?” You raised an eyebrow, sitting up fully, and crossing your arms. “Because you don’t seem like you’re managing all that well, if I’m being honest.” You huffed as he turned his head away from you, “Don’t make me say I told you so,” You continued, “You’re clearly not fine.” You reached out, placing your palm on his forehead, your eyes immediately catching the telltale signs of fever. His skin was clammy, the thin layer of sweat sticking to his pale skin. “You’re sweating.”

Astarion's eyes fluttered closed at the pressure of your hand, and he let out another dramatic sigh, "Ah, I see," He muttered, "Sweat, you say? Perhaps that’s the result of... Other activities from last night." He cracked his eyes open - half lidded - to glance at you, his lips curling into a smirk. "You do wear me out, darling."

You huffed in response, gently shaking your head, giving him a soft scolding look. "Astarion, this isn’t funny. You’re ill. I can tell, even if you’re trying to brush it off. I know you hate being seen like this, but I’m not going to let you suffer in silence."

“You’re a persistent one, but I suppose you can help, but only because you’re making that face.” He gestured toward you, “But don't get used to it."

You offered a small, knowing smile, unfazed by his theatrics. “Don’t worry, I won’t,” You replied, your voice soft but laced with amusement.

~~~

Astarion's voice suddenly rang out from within the tent, far more dramatic than the situation warranted. “Darling!” He called, his tone a mixture of exaggerated distress and feigned despair. “I’m positively dying over here! Do hurry!”

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t suppress a smile as you moved closer to the tent entrance. Inside, Astarion was lying dramatically across his bedroll, one arm thrown over his forehead as if shielding himself from the harsh rays of the sun. His eyes peeked out from under his arm, exaggeratedly squinting as he watched your every movement.

“Bring me... Something!” He continued, with all the flair of a stage actor. “Anything! A drink! A blanket! A song to lull me into my eternal slumber!” He paused for dramatic effect, groaning, a hand clutching his chest as though the very air was suffocating him.

You bit your lip to try and hide your smile, “Astarion, you’re not dying. You’re just sick.”

“Sick?!” He scoffed, throwing his head back and almost flinging himself off the bedroll in his exaggerated motion. “No, darling, this is beyond mere sickness! This is a tragic, heart-wrenching affliction, a malady for the ages!”

You chuckled at his antics, stepping inside and crouching beside him, trying to hide the amusement on your face. “You’re ridiculous.”

“Ridiculous?!” He repeated, lifting his head in mock shock. “I am a victim here, darling! And all I ask for is just a little bit of sympathy!”

You raised an eyebrow. “I did bring you something,” You said, presenting him with a cold piece of cloth. It was a spare piece of fabric that you dipped in the nearby fresh water river, and ringed out. You thought it would help, and so, you placed it gently on his forehead.

The second the cloth touched his skin, Astarion hissed, clawing at the air, flinching violently as if it were burning him. The cloth slipped from his forehead and fell onto the bedroll, completely ignored.

You just huffed in amusement, watching him for a moment before standing up. With a final glance at the absurdly dramatic vampire, you moved to shut the flaps of the tent, blocking out the harsh sunlight that still made him wince.

As you stepped outside, you took in the familiar sights of camp, breathing in the fresh late morning air. The fire in the center crackled gently, and you approached it, your gaze shifting to the small pot of soup simmering over the flames. Stirring the broth with a wooden spoon, you sighed, your mind lingering on Astarion’s condition.

A few moments later, Karlach emerged from her tent and walked over, plopping down on the log opposite you. She studied you with a curious, knowing gaze before speaking up. “Have you figured out what’s making Astarion so ill?” Her voice was steady, but there was a hint of concern behind it. “He seems completely miserable.”

You let out a sigh, resting your elbow on your knee and propping your chin up in your hand as you stirred the soup. “No,” You muttered, shaking your head. “He won’t even tell me what happened, if anything did happen. I didn’t even know vampires could get ill.”

Karlach gave you a sympathetic look, her large shoulders heaving with a deep sigh of her own. “Well, you’ve got this, soldier.” She gave you an encouraging grin. “I would help, but I don’t know anything about this type of stuff.” She chuckled out bashfully.

You smiled, “No worries, Karlach. Thank you for your encouragement.”

She nodded, “You’ll get him through it. Just don’t let him get away with too much. He’s really good at that.”

Before you could respond, Gale, sitting across the camp with his nose buried in a book, looked up at the two of you. His brow arched slightly, and he let out a soft, amused chuckle, the corners of his mouth curling into a knowing smile. “Ah, yes. Astarion getting away with too much,” He remarked in his characteristic smooth, well-spoken tone, marking his words with a slight flourish. “It seems to be his specialty, doesn’t it?”

You let out a huff, bemused by his words as you poked at the still-cooking soup, “It would seem so…” You mused, a small smile tugging at your lips.

Just as you were about to add something else, a sharp voice cut through the conversation like a dagger. “T’chaki! What is this nonsense?” Lae’zel strode over from her tent, her armored boots thudding heavily against the ground. She eyed the group, her gaze hard and direct, as per usual. “This talk of coddling and whining over a little illness. Pathetic.”

Karlach’s eyes widened in mock disbelief. “What now, Lae’zel?”

With a scowl, Lae’zel crossed her arms over her chest. “With my people, when a warrior falls ill, they do not whimper about it. They endure. They fight through it.” Her voice dropped into a low, serious tone. “We do not take to our beds and demand healing. No. We drop them in the sun to burn away the weakness - if we cannot shake it off by sheer force of will.”

There was a collective silence, and then all eyes turned to her, eyebrows raised in disbelief.

Gale raised a hand. “So… You’re saying we should leave Astarion in the sun?”

Lae’zel scowled, her golden eyes narrowing, “Not leave,” She snapped, “But hasten his recovery with a proper trial. Let him face the full strength of the sun - and a few combat trials to sweat out the weakness.” She waved a hand dismissively, as though it were the most logical thing in the world. “This would cure him in a day, two at most.” She huffed, “If that does not do the trick, then he is not worthy enough to be spared.” She muttered quietly, mostly to herself.

Karlach blinked, trying to process what she'd just said. “Combat trials? Are you suggesting... We fight him to make him better?”

Lae’zel’s eyes narrowed with frustration. “Do you not understand? He must push himself!” She snapped, glaring at the lot of you.

The group fell into a stunned silence, exchanging looks that ranged from bewilderment to outright concern. Finally, Gale, ever the voice of reason, coughed lightly. “I must say, Lae’zel, while your passion is commendable, I’m not sure Astarion will appreciate your… Method.”

You raised an eyebrow, not entirely sure how to respond, but Lae’zel didn’t seem to care for any objections. “Chk,” She muttered, stomping off to find something else to occupy her mind, “I will never understand you soft-hearted istiks.”

Karlach watched her retreat, then turned back to you with a smirk. “Well, that was... Something.” She shook her head, clearly amused. “I guess we’ll pass on the sun and combat trial, huh?”

You let out a breath, stirring the soup with the wooden spoon, looking down at the bubbling liquid. “Yeah... I think that’s for the best,” You sighed, glancing up at Karlach. “Astarion is completely unwilling to even move from his bedroll. I doubt he would want to fight any of us.”

Before you could say more, Wyll, who had been quietly sharpening his blade nearby, scoffed softly, a wry grin tugging at his lips. “Oh, don’t be so sure. Ill or not, if Astarion thought he had the chance, half of us would probably be dead by now.” He didn’t even look up as he spoke.

Karlach’s head snapped toward him, her expression caught somewhere between amusement and indignation. “Hey now,” She said, “That’s not entirely fair. Astarion’s... Well, he’s Astarion. Sure, he’s got his quirks-” She chuckled softly, “-But I don’t think he’d actually try to take any of us out. Not anymore, anyway.”

Wyll raised an eyebrow, his grin widening as he glanced up from his blade. “Not anymore? That’s comforting.” His words were sarcastic, he still didn’t fully trust the vampire.

Lightly grinning at their words, you looked up, your attention then landing on Shadowheart as she emerged from her tent. She noticed the pot of soup immediately, and her gaze shifted to you, her tone almost curious.

“What’s this, then?” She asked, taking a few steps closer to peer into the pot, “Is this some sort of... Breakfast?”

You raised an eyebrow, “It’s for Astarion,” You replied, lifting the wooden spoon to show the dark red, thick liquid inside the pot. “It’s just blood.”

Shadowheart blinked, a hint of surprise flickering in her eyes before she leaned forward slightly, looking at you with a raised eyebrow. “Blood? Really? In the same pot that we cook our own food in?” Shadowheart hummed, looking at the blood-filled spoon with a deep frown of disgust.

“I’ll wash it thoroughly,” You spoke, trying to reassure her. “I promise you that. I just thought having some nice hot blood would make Astarion feel better.”

Karlach peered into the pot, “Where did you even get that much blood?”

“A bear,” You answered, figuring the blood soup was ready enough.

From nearby the campfire, Volo’s voice chimed in, brimming with curiosity and excitement as he slithered over. “A bear, you say? No, no, that won’t do. Are you absolutely sure it wasn’t dragon-shaped and breathing fire?” He barely waited for an answer as he whipped open his book, quill in hand, and began scribbling furiously. “Our hero, locked in mortal combat with the fire-breathing dragon!” He thrust his quill into the air like a sword. “The beast roars, its fiery breath scorching the earth, but the hero stands undaunted! With a single, daring leap, they plunge their blade into its heart, silencing its infernal cries forever!” He grinned, triumphant. “Oh, the intrigue! The drama! Yes, yes, this shall make for another exquisite tale.” He then snapped his book shut and wandered off, muttering to himself.

Karlach shook her head, chuckling, amused, “That man’s got one hell of an imagination.”

You let out a sarcastic hum, stirring the blood in the pot one last time before sitting back against the log. “Funny thing,” You began, eyeing the fire as you spoke. “I’ve fought two dragons on this journey... Yet, for the life of me, I don’t recall either of them in full actuality.”

“Hopefully the bear was not Halsin.” Gale muttered, glancing up from his book with a raised eyebrow.

You ran a hand through your hair, letting out a breath before turning your attention to Gale, who was still eyeing the book in his hands. “The bear was not Halsin,” You said, before you tapped your finger to your chin, glancing down at the bubbling blood. “Although,” You muttered quietly to yourself, as though contemplating the possibility, “Hmm,” You shook your head, “No… Maybe not.”

“My love!” Astarion’s voice echoed from across the camp. You could almost hear the strain in his voice, but it didn’t stop him from calling out to you.

“Tch, always so dramatic,” Shadowheart muttered, her voice dripping with dry humor at his cries. “Well, good luck with that.”

Without another word, she turned on her heel, walking away, leaving the pot of blood behind. As she disappeared back into her tent, you couldn’t help but huff, rolling your eyes. "Yeah, thanks, Shadowheart.” You muttered sarcastically, before shifting in your seat, “Honestly, I don’t mind Astarion’s dramatics,” You mumbled, shaking your head, “Four brothers will teach you patience.”

"Four brothers?" Karlach exclaimed, her eyebrows shooting up.

You nodded, a smile on your lips, “Yes, being the eldest of five brothers, you get used to chaos.” As you spoke, your tone softened, and an adoring expression crossed your face. You couldn't help the way your gaze shifted, almost absentmindedly, as if your thoughts were elsewhere - on someone in particular. “Honestly, I’d do anything for Astarion. Even if he is being a bit over-dramatic,” You chuckled lightly, the fondness in your voice unmistakable.

Karlach’s eyes widened in realization, her mouth falling open in an exaggerated awe. "Awe, you really love him, don’t you?"

You smiled, your voice quieter now, tinged with affection. “More than anything."

As you rose from your seat by the fire, a soft sigh escaped your lips and you took the bowl in hand. The hot blood swirled gently inside, the rich scent of iron filling the air as you made your way toward Astarion’s tent. As you stepped inside the tent, the warmth of the sun was replaced by the cool, shaded atmosphere that surrounded Astarion. His figure lay propped up against the bedding, his normally immaculate appearance a little more disheveled. You carefully approached him, lowering yourself to sit beside him on the bedroll.

Reaching out, you gently brushed his damp curls from his forehead, the heat of his skin still evident despite the chill in the air. His eyes fluttered open slowly, and he looked at you with a mixture of exhaustion and appreciation, though the usual teasing spark still flickered within them. “Ah, so you did hear me calling for you,” He murmured, a tired smirk pulling at his lips.

You smiled softly, taking a moment to admire him. "I made you something to eat.” Astarion’s gaze flicked to the bowl in your hands, and his expression lightened with a flicker of hunger. His fingers reached out, and just as he was about to press his lips to the rim, you gently stopped him. “Blow on it first,” You instructed, your hand hovering near his. “It just came off the fire. You don’t want to burn your mouth.”

He took a deep breath, blowing softly over the thick, crimson liquid. And when he finally took a sip, his eyes closed in appreciation, and a low hum escaped him. “Mmm, that’s better,” He sighed, the sound of his voice thick with contentment. He didn’t even bother trying to mask the pleasure, allowing himself to bask in the small comfort you’d provided.

“Now,” You began, “What do you suppose has made you so ill?”

He let out an exaggerated sigh, leaning back slightly, his hands resting on his chest. “Well, my dearest,” He began, “It’s possible - just possible - that one of the delightful individuals we fought yesterday might have been harboring some vile disease.” He took another sip, before continuing, “And it is quite possible that I may have bitten them.”

You hummed, nodding, “That does make sense.” You reached up again, your fingers brushing through his hair, “Are you feeling any better?” You asked quietly, your gaze soft as you met his eyes.

Astarion opened his eyes, looking up at you, and for a moment, there was something far more genuine in his expression than you often saw. He nodded slowly, the faintest of smiles curling his lips. “Yes, my darling,” He said, “Thanks to you.”

Your fingers lingered in his hair a moment longer, the softness of it making you sigh. You could’ve stayed there forever, just watching him, taking care of him, knowing that despite his usual bravado, he trusted you enough to let his guard down.

“You don’t have to thank me,” You whispered, your hand leaving his hair to cup his cheek, brushing your thumb gently against his jaw. “I’ll always be here.”

Astarion’s eyes softened, “I know,” He murmured, taking another sip from the bowl, his gaze never leaving you.

~~~ Main Masterlist | Baldur's Gate 3 Masterlist

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justsomerandomfanfic · 11 days ago

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Cold Hands - David Powers X GN Reader

Title: Cold Hands

David Powers X GN Reader

Additional Characters: Marko, Paul, and Dwanye (Mentioned)

WC: 3,294

Warnings: Mentions of smoking/cigarettes (Not by Reader), love at first sight?, italics, banter, flirting, teasing, one curse word, kind of soft David, suggestive, blood-drinking mentioned, suggestive blood-drinking mentioned, and fluff

Leaning up against the wooden rails of the boardwalk, you wrapped your arms around yourself; a breeze flying past you, sending a chill down your spine. Beside you, David stood. Cigarette loosely sitting between his lips, his ice-blue eyes wandered from person to person. The boardwalk was not as crowded as it usually was - a few groups of people here and there - but you didn't really care. You just wanted to be alone with David for a while. No offense to Marko, Paul, and Dwanye, but they could be quite the handful after a while, and it was nice to just be able to have some alone time with David; even for a little bit.

You met David - and Marko, Paul, and Dwayne - on the very same boardwalk. You were supposed to meet up with friends and go to some party that was going on, but you weren't really in the partying mood that night. Instead, you found yourself on the boardwalk, taking in the sights and smells of the boardwalk amusement park. You had already had yourself a bit of fun, going on the carousel twice, and trying your luck at a rigged game, but it was nearing the time when you'd head home for the night. But, that night, you decided to stay out just a little bit later than usual.

That was when you met David.

You could hear motorcycles roaring over the sound of children's laughter and the people's screams on the roller coaster. You followed the sound, spotting the four bikes racing down the boardwalk, weaving past other pedestrians who were too busy laughing or talking to pay attention. Thankfully, no one got hit or run over, and the first thought that came into your mind was just how dangerous they were all being.

You moved back a bit when you noticed that the four of them were coming your way, and as the first bike sped past, your eyes locked onto its rider. The bleach-blonde's head turned, his piercing blue eyes meeting yours, and for that split second, the world seemed to go by in slow-motion. His gaze was so intense, you felt your breath catch in your throat as he passed by.

But then the moment ended and you blinked, your mind racing - as was your heart. You had heard about the punk bike riders, but even though you had lived in Santa Carla for years at this point, you had never seen them up close before; even for just a split second.

It wasn't until later in that week that you saw him again. You found yourself back on the boardwalk, with some pink cotton candy in your hand. Was it crazy that you came back multiple times and stayed up later than you usually did to try and catch a glimpse of him again? Maybe, but you just couldn't get him out of your head. Not because you were interested in him - you definitely were. Not because he fascinated you - you were absolutely fascinated. But because you wanted to know more about him. He was definitely just some bad boy, wanna-be gangster. But who was he? Did he always wear that leather jacket? What was his name? How did he get his hair like that? And for the life of you, you couldn't figure out from that one split-second encounter why you had such an interest in him.

Walking down the boardwalk, you occasionally pulled at the candy floss, the sweet fake strawberry taste coated your tongue; you liked the way it melted. Your mind was elsewhere, debating on whether or not you'd get funnel cake the next time you visited the food booth. Sidestepping around another group of people, you made your way out of the amusement park. The boardwalk was crowded, as it usually was, so it was only a matter of time until either you bumped into someone, or someone bumped into you.

And you must have jinxed yourself because a few moments later, a small group of children ran past you, laughing and giggling as they made their way into the park. The last child, stumbling behind, ran right into your side, making you lose your balance and stagger to the side and right into someone's chest. Two hands wrapped around your waist, stabilizing you.

Finding your footing, you felt warmth rise up in your cheeks and ears from embarrassment, "I am so sorry-" You looked up, your eyes meeting those of the person who saved your ass. You paused, staring at his face, at his eyes, and you realized that it wasn't just any random stranger standing in front of you. It was him. "It's you..." You spoke softly, and the bleach-blonde in front of you smirked, letting out a small 'humph.'

"Me?" He asked, seemingly amused as the two of the three young men behind him echoed that chuckle - also seemingly amused by the situation.

At their laughter, and the realization that his hands were still on your waist, you cleared your throat and took a step back - his hands fell to his side. "I- Nevermind, thanks for catching me." You spoke nervously, but you couldn't look away from him, no matter how embarrassed you were. There was this odd tension in the air, and you had to admit you weren't sure what to make of it. Yes, you found him incredibly attractive. That bleached-blonde hair, light stubble across his chin, and those blue eyes of his, but somehow... He- He just felt different. He was different in a way you couldn't explain. A sense of familiarity mixed with uncertainty, and something else you couldn't even begin to describe.

The bleach-blonde - the leader of the small group, you had assumed - didn't say anything for a moment, and his smirk never faded, his eyes scanning over your form with those eyes of his, a shiver ran down your spine. "What's your name?"

"Y/N. What's yours?" You responded, and you were glad you remembered to respond.

"David." He answered, before gesturing to the three behind him, "And this is Marko, Paul, and Dwayne."

'David.' You thought, 'So that's his name...'

From behind David, the blonde - Paul - smiled and waved at you, "Hello!"

"Are you new?" Marko then asked, leaning around Paul to ask, "I don't think we've seen you before."

You shook your head, "No, uh, I just don't come to the boardwalk that often." You answered, and David let out another soft 'humph.'

"Well, that explains it then," He spoke, and once more, your attention was brought right back to him. That grin was still present on his lips. You swallowed hard and averted your gaze briefly, the moon was high in the sky; you should be heading home. David continued to watch you, intrigued. He watched as you shifted your weight slightly, as the lights from the amusement park sign danced across your features, and reflected off your hair. He remembered you, for a few nights prior. He had rode past you. He let out one last amused 'humph', your eyes leaving the moon and once more meeting his. He then began to walk around you; like a wild animal stalking around its prey. "Come on, boys." He spoke as his gloved hand raised to take a few strands of your hair, letting it slide through his leather-gloved fingers. With one last look, he left, his friends following behind him, but not before Marko grabbed a piece from your cotton candy.

Your eyes followed after him, watching as he disappeared in the crowd, and once he was finally out of your sight you let out the breath you didn't even realize you were holding. Your feet then led you back to your house in a daze. You - again - couldn't stop thinking about him. Your mind would wander, yes, but then it would go straight back into thinking about him. You replayed your first conversation with him over and over again in your head, and for some reason, you knew that this was not going to be your last encounter with him.

~~~

Another breeze ruffled your hair, tickling your cheeks as you let out a small sigh. You did not expect the night to get so chilly, and you began to regret not wearing a thicker jacket. But, your thoughts on how cold the night was quickly left your mind as you felt David's arm wrap around your shoulders; tugging you into his side. You looked up, and the first thing you saw was his bright, icy blue eyes staring right back into yours.

"Cold?" He spoke as if he read your mind. The thought made you mentally laugh.

"Yeah... Cold." You replied, your voice barely louder than a whisper, but he heard it nevertheless. "But, I’m okay."

He looked back at the people walking past, "Hmm," He pulled the cigarette from his lips, breathing the smoke out into the air, before turning to look at you fully; leaning his side against the wood. His arm around your shoulders raised, cupping your cheek to caress it with the padded leather of his thumb gently. His stare was intense - as always - as his eyes searched yours, looking for what exactly, you could not tell, but you found yourself unable to look away either. After a few moments of silence, he leaned forward ever so slightly and pressed his lips against your forehead. Another breeze shot by, and you shuffled closer to him as goosebumps erupted all over your arms and neck. Slipping your arms around David's waist, your hands slipping under his leather jacket, you buried your face into his shoulder. "You're really cold." He spoke, and you hummed, shutting your eyes.

"Yeah," You nuzzled your cheek into the space between his neck and shoulder. "I'm fine, though."

"Liar." He muttered, feeling how cold your nose was as you nuzzled further into him. "We can wait for the boys back at the cave." His arms wrapped around you, holding you to him.

You knew that Paul, Marko, and Dwayne would be fine. But, deep down, you hoped that they got your usual order at the nearby Chinese restaurant right; your stomach rumbled. Sighing, you tightened your hold around him, reluctant to let go, but you did, "Okay."

~~~

Upon arriving at the cave hideout, you quickly made your way inside. Seeing your throw blanket that you brought from home on the back of the tattered couch, you quickly grabbed it; wrapping it around yourself the best you could before sitting down on the said couch. David eventually made his way over, plopping down beside you, and immediately pulling you into his lap; like he usually did.

With the corners of the soft throw blanket curled in your fists, you wrap your arms around his neck, covering both of you in a cocoon of warmth. Your head rested on his shoulder before letting out a sigh. Again, it was nice to have the chance to spend some alone time with him.

David - though usually arrogant and obviously dangerous around others - was actually soft and gentle when it came to you. When it came to you... Well, he'd probably do anything for you. Honestly, who knew that he was such a cuddly bear? A cuddly dangerous bear with razor-sharp teeth to anyone who gets on his bad side.

Shifting slightly, you slipped your hands into your lap, the blanket thankfully staying around the two of you as you pressed your cheek into the cool leather of his shoulder. "They're gonna forget about my sweet and sour pork, aren't they?" You asked quietly, not really wanting to disrupt the silence, but you felt the need to talk.

"Probably." He spoke, his words low and husky; you didn't have to look up at him to know that he was probably grinning. Slipping back into the comfortable silence, you sighed once more, your fingers subconsciously fidgeting with the leather fabric of his arm wrapped around your stomach in front of you. Lifting the arm from around your stomach, you began to play with the leather-gloved hand.

David watched as you did so, watching as you fiddled with his fingers, bending them, or tracing the stitches along the side of the glove. You did this often, and David had no idea why you were so... Obsessed with his hands. And he never asked you why, but curiosity was almost burning a hole through him. Not to mention, his ego grew knowing that you were so obsessed with his hands.

Silently, without a word, he took his hand from your curious ones. You were about to say something but in awe, you watched as he raised a hand to his mouth. Your lips fell agape, your eyes trained on him - on his hand, lips, eyes - as he bit down on the tip of his gloved pointer finger. David’s eyes never left you as he slid off the glove in one agonizingly slow pull. Was it mighty attractive? The way he stared at you, the way his somewhat pointed canines peeked out between his lips as he bit into his glove… Yes, and it almost distracted you from the fact that he took his glove off. Your eyes dropped from his lips and soon found themselves solely trained on his ungloved hand. His pale skin looked so smooth, his fingers long and slender.

And like a fly to a bright light, you were captivated. Slowly, carefully, you reached out, and the moment your skin touched his, you felt a warm sensation rush throughout your body. His skin was cold to the touch, but you didn't mind it. And as you did with his gloved hand, you began to trace lines along the inside of his palm with your fingertips.

David's eyes stayed focused on you; his brow furrowed slightly, but he remained silent as you traced over the lines of his skin. And then, slowly, he lifted his hand from yours, his thumb coming up to cup your chin; gently lifting your head to look at him. Your heart skipped a beat when your eyes met his, once more the intensity of his stare sent shivers down your spine.

He didn't say anything, no, only brushing the pad of his thumb against your bottom lip, before leaning down to capture your lips with his. The kiss itself was soft, tender; which was rare. You were so used to him being rough around the edges, rough and addicting. Taking your lips into his, devouring you. You always liked it, the feel of his lips, his tongue, and even his leather-gloved hands on your skin. But tonight, it was different. It was slow, deliberate. It was as if he was trying to memorize the very taste and shape of your lips.

You loved the rough, mischievous sides of David, but you also loved the soft and loving side that he possessed.

As his lips fell from yours, you let out a breath, and opened your eyes; immediately you noticed the shift in David’s demeanor. His usually bright, mischievous gaze had darkened, his pupils blown wide, and the faint shimmer of his fangs peeked out from under his lips. His bare hand, which had been gently resting on the back of your neck, twitched almost involuntarily, the grip tightening ever so slightly as if he were holding back.

It only took a moment to understand. Once fixated on yours, his eyes slowly drifted lower, lingering at the curve of your throat, his gaze becoming more intense. You knew that look - dark and hungry.

His fingers brushed through your hair, slowly tucking the strands away from your neck, exposing the skin he so craved. You could feel his breath on your throat, hot and deliberate, sending shivers down your spine. You weren’t scared. He’d bitten you before; you had faint marks from the previous blood-sucking events. Though, you would never admit it, there was something about the way it felt - intimate, addicting - that you found yourself... Enjoying it.

You sighed softly, tilting your head just enough to meet his eyes. “David… Are you hungry?”

A smirk tugged at the corner of his lips, his eyes gleaming with that dangerous edge you’d come to love. His voice dropped, low and seductive. “You know me all too well, love.” His thumb grazed your neck, teasing the skin as he continued, “I could never hide it from you, could I?” His words hung in the air, thick with desire and danger, that smirk only deepening as he leaned in, lips ghosting over your pulse. "The real question is… Are you going to stop me?" His tone was playful, but beneath it, there was that unmistakable hunger. And you knew you wouldn’t stop him. You never did.

His lips hovered just above your pulse, the warmth of his breath brushing against your skin. You could feel the tension in the air, thick and electric, as David’s hand slowly curled tighter at the back of your neck, holding you in place, though you weren’t planning on moving. His smirk lingered as he pressed a featherlight kiss to the side of your throat, the contrast between the softness of his lips and the sharpness of his intentions sending your heart racing.

"I haven't stopped you before..." You muttered, your eyes slipping shut as he continued trailing kisses.

“Such a sweet little thing,” He murmured against your skin, dripping with vampiric desire.

His fangs, now fully visible, glinted in the soft light of the cave as he pulled back just enough for you to see the hunger in his eyes. Their darkness had deepened, and his pupils were blown wide, swallowing the usual teasing glint that danced there. You felt your blood pounding in your chest and throbbing at your throat - exactly where he wanted it.

David’s hand slid from your neck to your waist, pulling you flush against him, his other hand threading into your hair. He tipped your head to the side, exposing the curve of your neck fully to him, his eyes following the path of your pulse like a predator watching its prey. His lips ghosted over your skin, and you could feel the sharp points of his fangs just grazing your flesh.

You swallowed hard, the mix of fear and excitement coursing through you like adrenaline. “I won't stop you,” You whispered, your voice breathy as your hands gripped the fabric of his leather jacket.

A dark chuckle escaped him, the sound vibrating against your throat. “I know you won’t,” He replied, his voice dangerously smooth; sinful. “You like this… Don’t you?” But, before you could answer, you heard Paul and Marko’s laughter.

David sighed heavily, as did you, his face digging into your neck, his eyes shutting. There goes your moment…

“Guess who brought dinner!?” Paul yelled out, dragging along some guy’s almost dead body along the cave floor. Behind him, Marko had a grin on his face, noticing how he and the other two boys had unintentionally ruined your private moment together.

David raised his head, his usual stoic expression appearing on his face, his hands gripping your waist in annoyance. “You did save some for the rest of us, right?” He asked, tilting his head, and Paul nodded his head.

“Yeah, there’s enough for all of us,” Paul huffed, nudging the unconscious body with his foot.

David hummed, before gently scooting you to sit on the couch as he stood. You let out a sigh, crossing your arms as Marko, Paul, and David began to dig in. Dwayne came over to you, silent and quiet as always, carrying a bag of Chinese takeout. With an appreciative smile, you thanked him, taking your food.

At least you got your sweet and sour pork…

~~~

Main Masterlist | Misc. Masterlist

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justsomerandomfanfic · 11 days ago

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Fandom Update! - 1/10/25

Hello, everyone!

I will be adding Yu Yu Hakusho to my fandoms/masterlist! I love the show and its characters, so I will be writing fanfics on Hiei and Kurama/Yoko soonish, lol. Just a bit nervous since the ideas that I have are slightly intimidating. XD

-Chloe <3

#cute #fluff #x reader #fanfiction #fanfic #yu yu hakusho #hiei #yyh hiei #hiei jaganshi #hiei yu yu hakusho #kurama #yyh #yyh kurama #yoko kurama

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justsomerandomfanfic · 12 days ago

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Please take care of yourself, no matter how busy you are! Remember to eat, drink water, sleep, and take breaks too!

Thank you so much! You’re the sweetest! And don’t worry, I’ll take care of myself. (I am actually snacking as I write this!) You do the same, okay?

-Chloe <3333

#cute #fluff #anon #wholesome #hydrate or diedrate

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justsomerandomfanfic · 13 days ago

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AGH YOU JUST HIT ME WITH A SEMI TRUCK FULL OF BABY DUCKS!! I love love love the match up you wrote, Halsins so nice and soft and huggable and 🥺🥹 Thank you so much! You're amazing and your writing flows so nicely and and and I don't know how to compliment you enough! <3

me and my new cat sparkles <33

Oh my gosh, you're making me blush over here!! I'm so happy you loved it!!

Halsin is definitely the kind of character who gives all the warm, soft vibes, and I’m thrilled that it came across the way I wanted. And your sweet words? Seriously, I’m melting. Thanks a million for being so kind and supportive, it honestly means the world to me!

-Chloe <3333

#cute #fluff #wholesome #omg #my heart #matchups #matchup #anon #bg3 #halsin my love #halsin

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justsomerandomfanfic · 14 days ago

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hi!!! I’d like a DC matchup please :)

im 19 years old studying electrical engineering with a minor in classical civilizations & European history.

i’m 5’2, 120 pounds and I have a good amount of muscle on me. I have short curly black hair and black eyes as well and im Indian as well. ummm im described as particularly vivacious and stubborn, protective and often explosive.

I love any and every DC media, the office (any sitcom in general tbh), dead poets society, and mulan. for hobbies, I played tennis competitively for nine year & I paint and draw as well as do Krav Maga.

I prefer men — thank you!! I hope this isn’t too long

Hello!

Don't worry, your request is not too long! It's a great amount. :)

I hope you like your DC matchups!

Enjoy!

Romantic Matchup: DC

~~~

Romantic;

~~~

DC;

Jaime Reyes -

You met Jaime during a college group project in your European History class - something you took and something Jaime enrolled in because he thought it sounded cool.

The professor paired you up, and it didn’t take long for you to notice how sweet and genuine Jaime was, even if he was a little awkward at first.

He admired your enthusiasm and stubborn determination to make the project perfect.

Jaime was immediately drawn to your vivacious energy.

He found your fiery personality inspiring and loved how passionate you were about everything you did.

One late-night study session led to a conversation about family and ambitions.

Jaime shared his dreams of helping his family and his struggles with balancing college and the responsibilities of being Blue Beetle.

Though he didn’t mention his hero identity, you could see the weight of something heavy on his shoulders.

You two became fast friends after the project.

You loved how Jaime was always there to support you, whether it was a pep talk before a Krav Maga session or cheering you on during tennis.

Late-night conversations became a staple of your friendship.

Jaime would bring snacks, and you’d sit under the stars, talking about everything from the meaning of life to which superhero you’d want to meet.

(Jaime always said Blue Beetle, obviously.)

He adored watching you paint or draw, often sitting quietly and watching you work.

You’d occasionally catch him doodling stick figures on your sketchpad.

Jaime always tried to convince you to take a break from studying, dragging you to campus events or movie marathons in his dorm.

Jaime was the first to realize his feelings when he caught himself staring at you during a campus festival.

You were passionately discussing with someone over the best 'Dead Poets Society' character, and he thought to himself how amazing you were.

For you, it hit when Jaime showed up unprompted at your Krav Maga practice with water and snacks.

He waited the whole session just to walk you home.

It was such a small thing, but it made your heart flutter.

Both of you were oblivious to the other's feelings, despite your friends constantly teasing you about how you acted like a couple.

Jaime would get nervous whenever you got too close or touched his arm, his heart racing when you’d playfully punch his shoulder.

The confession happened on a rainy evening after a particularly heated argument between you two.

Jaime had accidentally forgotten a promise he made to help you with a project because he was busy dealing with Blue Beetle responsibilities.

You were frustrated and hurt, and he was guilt-ridden, trying to apologize.

In the heat of the moment, he blurted out, “I'm Blue Beetle! That's why I've been gone sometimes. But, I was too scared to tell you because I care about you so much, okay? More than a friend should. And if anything happened to you...”

You froze, your anger dissolving as you realized the weight behind his words.

With a soft smile, you replied, “Well, it’s about time, Reyes.”

The rain was still pouring, but Jaime didn’t care.

He kissed you then and there, pulling you close as if you’d disappear.

Jaime loves taking you on casual dates, like visiting art galleries or watching sitcoms.

He’s always trying to impress you with how thoughtful he can be.

He’s the type to write you little love notes and slip them into your notebooks, each one more heartfelt than the last.

Jaime is incredibly attentive, always remembering the little things you like, like your favorite coffee order or the specific brush you prefer for painting.

He loves cooking breakfast with you on lazy mornings. You’d try to show him how to make traditional dishes, but he’d get flustered and end up burning something.

It always ends in laughter.

Jaime gets a kick out of watching you talk back to the TV during sitcoms, especially when you defend 'The Office' characters with fiery determination.

He’s a cuddle enthusiast, always finding an excuse to hold you close when you’re both relaxing after a long day.

He constantly surprises you with little sketches of you that he’s been secretly practicing.

They’re not perfect, but they’re heartfelt, and they make you smile every time.

Jaime loves bringing you flowers.

Whenever you’re studying late, Jaime swings by with snacks and coffee, staying with you until you finish, even if he has no idea what you’re working on.

Jaime is fiercely protective of you.

He wouldn’t hesitate to step in if someone disrespected you, but would back off if you could handle yourself.

He’s always trying to make your life easier, whether it’s fixing something for you or helping you with your studies.

He’d go out of his way to plan thoughtful surprises, like a private stargazing date or tickets to see your favorite historical exhibit.

You’d be his biggest cheerleader, always encouraging him to follow his dreams and reminding him of how incredible he is.

Whenever he feels overwhelmed by his responsibilities as Blue Beetle, you’d be the one to ground him, offering your unwavering support.

You’d teach him the basics of tennis and laugh as he struggles to keep up, but he loves every second of it because it’s time spent with you.

#cute #fluff #x reader #x y/n #x you #request #requested #anon request #matchup #matchups #dc #dc comics #dcu #jaime reyes #jaime reyes x reader #blue beetle #blue beetle x reader

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justsomerandomfanfic · 14 days ago

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Hello! If you could I would like to request a romantic matchup for Star Wars, Marvel, and X-men please and thank you!

I'm 18 and use she/her pronouns and I am bisexual but I do prefer guys. I'm 5'2 with dark brown hair with curtain bangs and Carmel highlights along with dark brown eyes. I wear glasses but I mainly like to wear contacts, but if don't have them in I either forget to put my glasses on or don't put them on because I get a little insecure with how I look.

I'm a very sensitive person and tend to be an introvert. I'm also the oldest daughter out of four kids so I tend to act very motherly to many of my friends and family to the point where I am in charge of organizing things or helping my siblings with school or anything else they need. I can be shy and seem to be independent or act like a lone wolf but once I find the right people I am very quick to open up and be very sarcastic but very energetic and affectionate, like a golden retriever lol.

I like to listen to music mostly pop like Sabrina Carpenter or Charlie xcx but love other genres just as equally and have music on constantly, I also like to draw or do anything artsy, baking/cooking (I grew up spending lots of time in the kitchen due to dad working in a kitchen), and love spending time with my siblings. I dress mostly in casual clothes with lots of crop tops, oversized hoodies and jackets, and off the shoulder tops, but also like to do 90's to 2000's fashion. I'm a big hopeless romantic and show my affection through physical touch, quality time, and acts of service.

Hopefully I'm not adding to much but if it is just ignore but I'll add two more things if it helps you, my favorite color and flower is Lavender, and I love to collect plushies and small trinkets.

Thank you for doing this matchup hope you have a good day/night!! <33 ^0^

Hi!

I would love to match you up with someone from Star Wars, Marvel, and X-Men! :)

And don't worry, you gave a great amount of information.

I hope you like your matchups!

Romantic Matchups: Star Wars, Marvel, and X-Men

~~~

Romantic;

~~~

Star Wars;

Anakin Skywalker -

You met Anakin as a fellow Jedi Padawan training in the Temple.

You had a reserved presence, more inclined to observe than to speak, but your skill with a lightsaber and calm demeanor stood out.

Master Yoda had once said that your skill with a lightsaber was unmatched.

Anakin, ever the bold and confident one, was immediately curious about you.

He first approached you during a meditation session, lightly teasing you about how "peaceful" you looked while secretly admiring how focused you were.

You, naturally shy, responded with an awkward laugh, and he found it endearing.

Anakin quickly decided that he liked being around you.

(And he kind of wanted to break you out of your shell...)

He'd pull you into his orbit with his charm, dragging you into mischief or debates about training techniques.

At first, you found his confidence overwhelming, but his sincerity - and the fact that he questioned authority - intrigued and won you over.

Over time, your friendship deepened as you discovered you could be yourself around him.

You'd talk for hours about your shared dreams.

He often confided in you about his frustrations with the Jedi Order, finding comfort in your empathetic nature.

Anakin had a habit of surprising you with small tokens - scraps from his tinkering turning into trinkets, or a freshly picked Lavender from the Temple gardens.

Anakin's feelings for you began to shift after a dangerous mission where you both narrowly escaped.

Seeing you injured and still prioritizing others made him realize how much he admired your strength and selflessness.

For you, it was during one of your late-night talks under the stars.

Anakin's passion and vulnerability shone through as he shared his dreams of a better future.

His intensity was magnetic, and you found yourself drawn to him in ways you hadn't expected.

The tension grew during sparring sessions.

He'd purposely get close, his teasing grin softening when your eyes met, lingering just a little too long before either of you moved.

Anakin's confession was as dramatic as you'd expect.

After a heated battle where he feared for your life, he blurted out his feelings in the middle of the Temple's courtyard.

His words came out in a rush, his usual confidence faltering as he admitted, "I can't imagine my life without you." He then walked closer, taking your hands, before muttering, "I am sure that you are the reason as to why the stars and moon are hung in the sky."

You, initially stunned, softened when you saw the vulnerability in his expression.

With a small smile, you admitted you felt the same, and when he kissed you under the fading light of the sunset, it felt like everything just clicked into place.

Anakin's love is intense and all-encompassing.

He becomes your fiercest protector and biggest supporter.

He constantly worries about your safety but respects your independence.

Slightly overprotective?

He loves physical touch - sadly because of the Jedi Code, your relationship and love are forbidden, but at the Temple, Anakin can't help but brush a hand against yours, pull you into a side hug, or rest a hand on your back when going through crowds.

But, when alone, Anakin will cling.

#Touch-starved.

Hugs, full body hugs, resting his forehead against yours, many kisses, cuddling, hand-holding, and a whole lot more.

He always thinking of ways to make you smile.

Whether it's sneaking out to watch the sunrise together or crafting a small gadget to help with your art, he's determined to show you how much you mean to him.

Anakin adores your love for baking.

He's hopeless in the kitchen but always volunteers to help, resulting in flour fights and lots of laughter.

He makes it his mission to create small, lavender-colored trinkets for you using parts from his tinkering, knowing it's your favorite color.

Late at night, when the Temple is quiet - and he snuck into your room - he'll play music on an old holoplayer, swaying with you in the dim light.

~~~

Marvel;

Miguel O'Hara - (I know this is a bit more Spiderverse/Spider-Man, but like the vibes are there)

You met Miguel as a new recruit to the Spider Society. Your bright, cheerful personality was a stark contrast to his stoic and often grumpy demeanor.

Miguel first noticed you during a mission briefing where your enthusiasm stood out among the otherwise serious group.

It made some sense since he also noticed that you were close with Gwen and Hobie.

At first, he thought you were naive, but when you effortlessly took down two anomalies singlehandedly during a mission with two other Spider-People, he started paying closer attention.

Miguel couldn't help but be drawn to your sunshine-like energy.

You had a knack for getting him to loosen up, even if it was just a tiny smile or a soft chuckle at one of your jokes or sarcasm.

You'd leave small doodles on sticky notes around HQ - sometimes of him, sometimes of random things - and he secretly kept them all in a drawer.

When he saw you mentoring younger Spiderlings, his respect for you deepened.

He admired how nurturing and patient you were, and it reminded him of what he'd lost but also gave him a sense of hope.

Miguel's feelings for you crept up on him.

One moment, you were his bubbly coworker, and the next, he found himself looking forward to your presence more than he cared to admit.

And then there is also the fact that he was scared to let someone else in again. Everyone he had ever loved died so...

For you, it was during a mission gone wrong.

You got hurt, badly, and Miguel was too late to swoop in and protect you.

While you were stationed in a bed healing, Miguel stayed by your side for a good while, asking for updates from Lyla.

This gruff concern made your heart flutter.

The romantic tension between you both was palpable, with lingering glances and moments of unspoken understanding.

Miguel's confession came during a quiet moment in HQ.

He couldn't hold it in anymore and just admitted, "You're the only thing keeping me sane in this place. I don't know what I'd do without you, corazón (my heart/heart.)

You teased him for being sappy but immediately reassured him by hugging the crap out of him and saying, "Good thing I'm not going anywhere, Miggy."

Miguel is fiercely protective but learns to let you handle things your way because he respects your abilities, independence, and strength.

He's not one for grand romantic gestures but makes up for it in small, meaningful ways - like designing gadgets to make your life easier or brewing your favorite Lavender tea after a long day.

He secretly loves it when you cuddle up to him, though he'd never admit it out loud.

You know, though.

He's kind of obvious.

Miguel loves spending quiet evenings with you.

You'll play Sabrina Carpenter while you bake, and he'll sit nearby watching you with a soft smile.

He builds you a lavender suit.

He'll wrap an arm around your waist when walking through HQ, a subtle yet protective gesture that lets everyone know you're his.

(And he is yours.)

~~~

X-Men;

Logan Howlett -

You met Logan when you joined the X-Men.

He initially kept his distance, observing you with his signature gruffness.

It wasn’t until he saw you helping a young mutant with their powers that he started to soften.

He couldn’t help but be intrigued.

Logan respected your independence and quick wit.

You weren’t afraid to challenge him, and he found your sarcasm refreshing.

You bonded over late-night kitchen raids, where you’d bake something sweet while he poured a glass of what he wished was beer but it ended up being Coke.

He’d grumble about you taking too long, but he always stayed until you were done.

You’d drag him into harmless pranks around the mansion, and while he pretended to be annoyed, he secretly loved the lighthearted moments you brought into his life.

You both loved to prank Charles, but he always saw it coming.

But pranking Scott was extra fun!

Logan’s feelings for you grew when he realized how much he valued your presence.

Your nurturing nature balanced his rough edges, and he found himself looking forward to your company.

For you, it was when he patched you up after a mission, his touch gentle despite his gruff tone.

His protectiveness made you feel safe, and his vulnerability in those moments was endearing.

Logan’s confession was blunt and straightforward, delivered after a mission. “You mean a lot to me. More than I thought was possible.”

Your heart melted at his honesty, and you reassured him with a soft smile and a hug, letting him know you felt the same.

Logan is fiercely loyal and protective.

He’ll always have your back, whether it’s during a mission or against everyday struggles.

He loves it when you rest your head on his shoulder, though he’ll grumble about it just to tease you.

He surprises you with small, thoughtful gestures - like carving a lavender flower from wood, knowing it’s your favorite.

Yeah, he totally knows how to carve wood, having traveled around a lot.

#forestboi

Logan enjoys quiet mornings with you, sipping coffee and reading in companionable silence.

You’ll bake together, with him stealing bites of cookie dough and pretending he didn’t.

He’s incredibly affectionate in private, often pulling you into his lap or wrapping his arms around you when you least expect it.

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