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zepskies · 1 year ago

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Break Me Down - Part 12

Pairing: Soldier Boy/Ben x Female Reader

Summary: You’re a private investigator by trade, but now you happily sit at a desk — leading a surveillance team at Supe Affairs. After managing to end Homelander in New York, Soldier Boy escapes custody. You are recruited for the manhunt, joining Butcher’s team.

Truly, you joined the S.A. for the right reasons. But after you become his accidental hostage, Soldier Boy will break down every single one of them…

💚 Break Me Down Masterlist

Word Count: 5,700

Tags/Warnings: Violence and peril, angst central, a touch of PTSD, and a surprise ending…

Part 12: All Your Wicked Ways

Something was wrong.

It was a gut instinct, but yours was far too often right.

Ben had been sleeping for a long time. After he’d fallen asleep yesterday, you did shortly after from the combination of fatigue, pain from your broken ribs, and the painkillers in your system.

But even after your keepers had woken you with a tray of food, Ben still hadn’t woken up.

“Ben?” you tried calling to him, but he didn’t rouse from where he laid in his cot, one arm pillowed behind his head and the other across his stomach.

You got up, your pain making you slow as you made sounds of struggle.

You went to the large window and supported yourself with your hands on the glass. You called his name again, louder.

His face scrunched a little, but your voice couldn’t penetrate the Novichok haze—the poison being pumped into his cell to dull his senses and keep him too drowsy to function.

You paused as you heard heavy footsteps coming down the hall. It turned out to be several, in fact, as a team of Vought security guards came to your cell.

“What’s going on?” you asked. No one answered you as they grabbed and handcuffed you with your arms in front of you. You struggled, but you didn’t have the strength or energy to give much of a fight.

They wheeled in what looked like a large metal casket. You had only seen one of these in pictures, but it had to be a cryochamber.

A doctor in her mid-fifties accompanied them, giving directions on how to safely enter Ben’s cell. Your eyes widened.

“What the hell are you doing?” you shouted. Panic trilled down your spine as the guards fitted themselves with special suits and gas masks. The doctor turned toward you as the guards led you out of your cell and into the hall.

“You’re being transported,” she informed you.

“Where?”

“To a lab with better security.”

“Why? Where’s my father? I know that bastard’s still alive,” you demanded, but it seemed you weren’t interesting enough for the doctor.

You spied her last name, Baker, embroidered above the breast pocket her lab coat. You finally recognized Dr. Tonya Baker; you hadn’t worked with her much during your time at Vought, but you knew her by reputation.

Your heart fell into your stomach.

You struggled against the stern grip of the guard holding you and shouted, “Ben, wake up!”

Between your voice and the commotion outside his door, he started to rouse.

“Get her out of here,” said Dr. Baker.

Your guards tried to drag you, but you dug your heels in and made it as difficult as possible. Meanwhile, Ben could hear you—when you called his name and now, while you were struggling. He finally drew enough energy and strength to open his eyes and sit up in the cot.

Once he saw you being manhandled against your will, his fury sparked.

“Hey!” he barked. He managed to rise off his cot and draw himself to his feet. The first door of his cell slid open for the guards in their hazmat suits. Once that closed, the second one disengaged, and they came pouring in.

Ben fought them. He managed to punch the first one into the far wall, shaking the fortified glass. He snapped the second man’s neck and broke a leg on the third, but they just kept coming in batches of three or four. The room was misty as hell, slowing Ben’s stamina, and he gritted his teeth in frustration.

Their strength was in numbers, and gradually, they were able to latch onto his arms, kick behind his knees to bring him down to the ground.

He saw the mask coming towards his face, and the well of panic, hearing your distressed yelling of his name—it gave him the strength to break the chain of men holding him down.

That’s when he noticed the star bolts zipping outside his cell.

You were still fighting against the guard’s hold. You ripped back his sleeve and bit into the man’s wrist, eliciting a yell of pain. His grip eased up enough for you to steal his secondary gun on his belt, and despite your cuffed wrists, you shot him in the leg twice to bring him down.

You raised the gun at your next attacker—Frenchie, who raised up his hands in friendly surrender.

“Cherie! It’s surprising to see you alive,” he said. You grinned.

“A good surprise?” you asked, and you shot another guard approaching from behind him.

Frenchie flinched slightly, but after he watched the man fall to the ground, screaming and clutching between his legs, Frenchie’s lips raised in a more genuine smile.

“Yes, I think so,” he teased.

You looked past him and watched as Kimiko, M.M., Annie, Hughie, and Butcher took out the rest of the guards. You didn’t see Dr. Baker anywhere; in all likelihood, she’d fled the scene when she saw her opportunity.

Ben still remained in his cell, and you went to the glass window. He looked all right as he met your gaze, but there were about ten bodies lying around him. His face was firm and assessing. Still, you read the uncertainty behind it.

You sighed and turned to your team. “Hey, guys. Good to see you.”

Annie went to you first, grasping your shoulders. Her large eyes peered into yours.

“Are you okay?” she asked.

“Well, more or less,” was your weary reply. Your ribs were throbbing, but you raised your cuffed hands. “Think you can help me with these?”

Annie raised a hand over your cuffs and concentrated her powers into melting them, just enough for Kimiko to strike through them. You slid off the remaining metal pieces and rubbed your stinging wrists.

“All right, let’s get a fucking move on,” said Butcher.

“Hello to you too,” you replied, raising a brow.

“Oh, just you wait. You’ve got plenty of fucking explaining to do,” he said, leveling a finger at you. He slid it over to Ben, who watched him right back.

“Ello, gov.” Butcher smirked. “Look at you, all gift-wrapped for us.”

He turned to M.M., who approached with an especially terrifying-looking gas mask. Your eyes widened.

“Ready?” Butcher asked him.

“Ready to knock this motherfucker out and bring him into custody,” M.M. grimly agreed.

“Wait,” you said, stepping past Annie to get between M.M. and Butcher.

With your back to the glass, you didn’t see how Ben’s eyes followed you. They hid a thread of uncertainty. He had a feeling you might do this, but he didn’t know what to expect from your team.

“It doesn’t have to go down like this,” you told them. “He took out Homelander. He could help us bring down Vought. This fucking tower, the whole thing.”

“Is that why you ran at the airport?” M.M. asked. Then he shook his head. “Never mind. We don’t have time to debate this.”

You held out a halting hand. “Look, clearly they're not done making supes if they brought back a new and improved Black Noir. Now they’re selling V24 to the military. They need to be stopped, and with our help, Ben could do it.”

“Oh, it’s Ben now, is it?” Butcher stared at you shrewdly, then at Ben himself. The latter just tilted his head, his mouth quirking with an edge of cockiness.

Butcher raised a brow. His gaze returned to you, noting the way you stood your ground, but pursed your lips. You were hiding something…a guilty conscience, perhaps.

“Bloody hell. You two’ve been fucking,” he realized.

Shocked silence spread through the rest of the team.

Your embarrassment radiated off your flushing cheeks, and it took everything within you to resist looking back at Ben. You didn’t want to see what kind of expression he wore, but you could guess.

“No,” Annie regarded you with shock.

“Seriously?” Hughie remarked in a high voice.

“That’s…well, that’s none of your goddamn business, is it?” you tried to be stern, but your embarrassed shuffling made it lose some of its effect.

Kimiko shared raised brows with Frenchie, who just looked amused. M.M., on the other hand, grimaced with disgust. That actually stung, but you crossed your arms. You didn’t have a good answer for them. Not one you wanted to say in front of Ben, anyway.

“I think we can come to an agreement here,” Ben said at last.

You turned around, and he gained the attention of the others as well. He briefly met your gaze before he shifted to Butcher.

“Worked for us once, before you tried to double-cross me,” Ben said.

“You want to take out Vought.” Butcher glanced at their surroundings, specifically Ben’s cell. He gave a snort of amusement. “I could understand that.”

“Butcher,” M.M. said sharply.

“We–we should probably get out of here now,” Hughie pointed out. He looked back down the hall nervously. You agreed with him; any moment now, more guards could be coming.

“Think about it,” said Ben. “The only way you’re getting that mask on me is with a fight. One you’ll probably lose, fucking miserably. We can have the same deal as before, no strings. Until Stan Edgar and Noir are dead.”

It took Butcher all of seconds.

He turned to Frenchie and said, “Open her up.”

“Butcher, what the fuck!” M.M. argued.

“What do you fucking want from me, eh? Their special ops security will be all over us soon,” Butcher said.

But he shared a meaningful look with the other man that you didn’t miss. It sparked your suspicion.

You stepped back as the first door unlocked after Frenchie hacked the commands. Then the gas misting up the cell receded.

There was an immediate reaction from Ben. He blinked in relief as he started to breathe easy. The brain fog making it almost impossible for him to stay alert slowly ebbed.

He took one step into the hall before it happened—all in a rush, but not unexpected. He blocked M.M.’s punch and tossed him across the hall.

Someone jumped on his back. He heard you shout, but before he could rip off the hanger on, Kimiko slipped the mask over his face and deployed a heavy dose of nerve gas. It was enough to drop him to his knees as his eyes rolled back into his head.

Lights out.

On the way to Supe Affairs, you weren’t happy, but there wasn’t much you could do.

You were still in your Vought-issued gray pajamas, bare footed as you rode along with your friends in Frenchie’s van. In the very back was the haul of Ben, laid to rest in a chamber keeping him sedated.

You had to explain to the rest of them that your father, Jonathan, was Stan Edgar’s Chief of Security. You were a cog in Vought’s wheel once upon a time, but joining the S.A. helped you escape. Ben offered you a way to achieve what you couldn’t at the S.A.—taking it all down.

Still, M.M. looked at you like he didn’t even know you.

“How do you explain fucking him?” he asked.

You shot him a tight frown.

“First of all, none of you know what the hell I went through,” you said. “At first, I was just trying to learn how to read him. How to survive and somehow get back home.”

Emotion clogged in your throat when you thought of seeing your sister again soon, and your mom. You thought of all you had gone through in past two months, and knew that it had changed you…

For better or worse, you didn’t yet know for sure.

“But for all his arrogance, his chauvinism, his massive ego and general bastardry, there’s still humanity in Ben,” you said, looking up at your team. You thought they had become your friends…but you supposed you would see.

“Why else would he save me?” you said.

They didn’t answer. You turned your head to Annie, but even she didn’t look convinced. Though you could see she wanted to be on your side, it was difficult for her to reconcile her own feelings about Soldier Boy. You certainly understood that.

“He’s too powerful to kill,” you also pointed out. “Putting him to sleep like this will just make it worse when he wakes up…but if he’s properly motivated, he could do some good.”

“Or off anyone who looks at him sideways,” Butcher wryly replied. “He’s dickmatized you, love.”

You could tell the others sided with him on this.

“You can disagree with me,” you said, “but do you have a better way to kill Noir and take down Vought?”

At the S.A., you were able to shower and get on proper clothes in a black tracksuit and some sneakers. You weren’t allowed to find out where they’d taken Ben yet, but Grace Mallory oversaw the transport, just as she called you into her office for your immediate debriefing.

It felt more like an interrogation, not unlike the one you underwent to be recruited for the manhunt of Soldier Boy.

You felt like a different person sitting across from her. This time you sat up tall, not intimidated by the ice blue stare that greeted you. The lines in the older woman’s face were drawn, but there was an unyielding wall within the woman that you could admire.

It just didn’t change the fact that right now, she was your opponent. And the chess game had begun.

“You went way off-road with this assignment,” she said at last. You raised a brow.

“I’m sorry my kidnapping inconvenienced you,” you remarked.

“Don’t be cute. You know what the hell I’m talking about,” Grace said. “At this point, I’m debating whether to bring you into custody along with Soldier Boy.”

“I’m the one who got him back to the States,” you pointed out, sitting back in your chair with your arms crossed. “I had to get in contact with my father to make that happen. Do you know what that cost me?”

You resisted an uncomfortable shudder. They’d given you more painkillers for your ribs, but it wasn’t enough the relieve the damage of that encounter. Not to your mind.

“Aside from any other self-debasing tactics I used in order to do my job, not to mention save my own life. Without me, and the sacrifices I made, Soldier Boy wouldn’t be in a cell downstairs,” you finished.

Saying those words stung. Like you were somehow betraying yourself.

“That doesn’t fool me,” Grace said. In fact, her shrewd gaze was much like Butcher’s. It saw straight through you as she tilted her head in wonder. “You care about him.”

Your lips tightened.

After a moment, you answered.

“He was tortured for forty years,” you said. “Whether he admits it or not, he’s got scars just like the rest of us…but more importantly to you, he can help us take down Vought once and for all.”

Grace considered you with a shifting light. “I didn’t think that mattered to you.”

“There’s a lot you don’t know about me,” you retorted. “But make no mistake. You will pay me what you owe me for this mission. If you think you’re going to welch on your end of the deal, then I’m about to be your long-term problem.”

Grace huffed in wry amusement.

“I have a feeling you will be, regardless,” she said.

“And to that end, I will be checking in on Ben,” you replied. “He’s a person, not a weapon or a lab rat.”

“Mind yourself, young lady,” Grace snapped, her eyes narrowing. “I admire your sense of loyalty, but in this case, it’s misplaced. That man is a bastard and a murderer, with a devastating power he can’t hope to control. And you, frankly, don’t have any standing to make demands.”

“And what’s your body count, agent?” you challenged. “Have they all been sanctioned kills?”

When she didn’t answer, merely staring back at you, you stood up.

“You’re right, he can’t control it. Yet. Maybe that’s something productive you can get your damn scientists on,” you said.

And before you left, you added one more thing.

“I may not have your security clearance, your power, or your money,” you said. “But I’ve got a big fucking mouth. So unless you want me to use it, my clearance now includes seeing Ben.”

Grace stared back at you for a moment.

Her nails tapped on her desk as she assessed you.

Releasing a long sigh through her nose, she relented. A little.

“Fine,” she said. “If you can convince him to ally with us on the Vought issue, I’ll allow you to see him.”

You nodded. For all that Grace hated Soldier Boy, she was a practical woman. She saw the same opportunity you did, and was willing to take advantage of it…even if you both knew that convincing Ben to play ball would be damn near impossible.

In fact, this would probably be your biggest challenge yet. But this, you were willing to fight for.

“I can start tomorrow,” you said.

It seemed that Vought and the CIA had been thinking similarly on how to confine Soldier Boy.

You spent one strange night back in your musty apartment before you returned to the S.A., bright and early, so that Grace could lead you to a lab below the main building. It was dark and made of pure concrete, encased in titanium.

In it was a state-of-the-art cell with three metal walls that had to disengage before you could reach the inner room. Inside those four corners of fortified, bullet-proof glass were scarce furnishings. Ben himself was strapped to a bed, with a mask held over his face.

At least he was out of the coffin, but it was difficult for you to watch, even as the scientists and guards unstrapped him and left the cell. The mask disengaged from his face, allowing him to breathe real air as he started to wake. But gas flooded into the compartment, not unlike Vought’s setup.

You and Grace stood outside the glass. She glanced at you with sharp nod. Then she left you alone.

Well, relatively speaking. There were guards posted at the entrance of the three walls behind you, controlling who got in and out of the cell area.

Once all the walls were back in place after Grace’s departure, you let out a shaky breath and stepped forward with the plate of food you brought, along with a few bottles of water.

Ben was moving off the bed, trying and failing to clear his head as he took in his surroundings with a furious glare. It only dimmed slightly when he realized you were there.

He made his way toward you, and you pressed a button that would allow you to safely pass his meal to him without letting any nerve gas escape the inner cell. Ben removed the lid from the plate, inspected the chicken and vegetables with an unreadable expression.

Then, with a burst of force, he took the plate and tossed it as hard as he could into one of the glass walls.

You flinched. But by the time he looked back at you, you’d schooled your expression, merely raising a brow.

“That was real fucking mature.”

“Suck on my balls, sweetheart,” he retorted. He cocked his head to the side. “Oh wait, you did. Last Tuesday.”

You glared at him with a hot blush spreading across your face. That was not, in fact, last Tuesday. But you didn’t rise to his bait.

“Are you really willing to partner with the S.A. to take down Vought? Or was that just you bluffing?” you asked.

Ben started to pace in irritation. You knew he was upset, and itching for revenge on anyone that would dare confine him again. You could guess what being in a cell was already doing to his mental state.

Which was why you were here, desperately trying to help him.

“Really, would you rather be hunted all your life, or would you rather just play ball here?” you tried to reason. “Become a real ally with the S.A. Show Mallory that you can operate within the law.”

Ben looked up from his pacing just to glare at you.

“Who the fuck do you think you’re talking to with all these demands, huh?”

“You, Ben. I’m talking to you!”

He ignored you, resuming his pacing. “I’m a solo act for a damn reason.”

Oh really? you wanted to say. That’s why he needed your help to try and get to Stan.

“That got you here, now didn’t it?” you asked.

He didn’t answer. It made you think you weren’t going to get anywhere with him today. Maybe he needed some time to cool off.

You sighed and turned to leave, but his voice stopped you.

“You’re just going to leave me in here?” he asked in disbelief. And you thought you could read a throughline of hurt behind his eyes. “I saved you…shit, I’ve lost count how many times now. And still, you fucking betrayed me.”

“Don’t you do that,” you warned. Though you felt a prickle of guilt run down your spine. “You know very well what got you here. I tried to stop it. And I’m the only one who’s on your side right now.”

“Doesn’t fucking look like it from where I’m standing.”

You sighed in frustration. “I’ll tell you the truth, I don’t want to leave you in here. But if I can’t trust you, they never will.”

“I don’t know what delusions you have about me,” he said, coming closer.

“But when I get out of here, I’m slaughtering anyone who gets in my way!” he shouted savagely.

He banged his fists into the glass so hard that it trembled, making you flinch with a gasp. A more concentrated fog smoked up the cell. Ben coughed and cursed as he stumbled back, and eventually, he fell unconscious right there on the floor.

You watched in dismay. Despite his rage, it still hurt you to see him like this. Like a caged animal.

Tears welled up in your eyes, but you forced yourself to leave the cell before the cameras caught them. You knew Grace would be monitoring this exchange later.

She would probably feel vindicated at what she saw.

The thought disgusted you as the outer walls parted, allowing you to leave. M.M. was waiting for you at the exit. He’d seen the entire thing through a monitor at the control desk, where two guards sat eating their lunch.

“You want to protect that piece of shit?” M.M. said, jerking a thumb towards the cell. “That’s what he really is. And he clearly don’t give a fuck about you.”

Your jaw tightened.

“I’m not going to justify my actions to you, M.M. I know what he’s done, especially to you," you said. "But he didn’t just let me live. He protected me, saved me, more than once. From his own men even. And…he was kind to me, in his own way. I have to think that counts for something.”

M.M. shook his head at you in disbelief.

“Maybe he went soft for a pretty girl, but that doesn’t mean he ain’t a monster,” he said.

“That’s not all there is to him,” you said. “You didn’t see it, M.M.”

The other man watched you for a moment, before he let out a deep sigh.

“You actually think he can be saved,” he said.

“Maybe,” you said. “We’ll see.”

He crossed his arms. You understood how he felt, but you couldn’t deny what your instincts told you about Ben…and your heart as well.

“He’s right about one thing,” M.M. said. “You are delusional.”

A few days went by as the team went back to work at the S.A. as usual. But your days during your first week home became marked by your strenuous visits to Ben.

Once again, he’d rather pace than look at you. You had a feeling it helped him stay awake.

“I fought for my country,” he groused. “I don’t fucking deserve this.”

“Oh, would you stop lying?” you said in annoyance. “You’ve only ever fought for yourself. You didn’t even fight in World War II! You’ve never been a soldier. And unless you get a fucking clue, you’re going to continue being the massive man-child your father saw in you.”

Maybe it wasn’t kind, but you were fed up with his stubbornness. You turned to leave.

“Don’t you fucking walk away from me!” Ben shouted.

You raised a brow, and you turned on your heel. The man was livid, standing in the center of his cell.

“Or what?” you challenged.

But you soon relented at the way he withdrew–into himself.

You had checked the monitors before you came in; he was trying not to sleep, wasn’t letting his body rest. This place was like an open wound: complete wall-to-wall glass, no privacy, nowhere to go, and nothing to do. He couldn’t distract himself with drugs, or TV, or good food, or even good sex and conversation.

This was terrible for him, and you knew it.

“Ben, I want to help you,” you said, letting out a shaky breath. You laid a hand on the glass. “Let me help you.”

His gaze was angry and unyielding.

“There’s only one way you can help me,” he said. “But you won’t fucking do it.”

The team was giving you a wide berth. Even Annie greeted you in the office with more politeness than warmth.

Above all else, you remained professional, but it was a simple fact that your team was no longer your team. They didn’t trust you, or your judgment. And you refused to show how deeply that hurt you.

However, until you all got a breakthrough on taking down Vought and Noir, there was still work to be done. So you fell into step back in with the Surveillance team.

That meant taking your place as second-in-command to your manager, as well as returning to your cubicle next to your coworker Jess. She hugged you when she saw you, even shed tears.

You’d hugged her a bit awkwardly, but you were touched. You hadn’t thought she cared about you that much.

She told you that the entire Surveillance department had been worried about you. That they’d missed you, especially your calm, supportive leadership. (Apparently your manager had been stressed handling the entire department without you.)

That at least buoyed you throughout the rest of the week.

When you returned home on Thursday, however, you received an unexpected call. But when you saw the caller ID, you inwardly kicked yourself before you answered.

“Louisa?”

“What the hell is wrong with you!” came your sister’s sharp voice.

So many things, you thought with a weary sigh. You held your phone to your ear while you tried to find something to cook for dinner in your pantry. All you found was a box of spaghetti…which dragged up bittersweet memories you’d rather not think about.

“I meant to call you as soon as I got back,” you tried to explain. “But I’ve been in full debrief mode. It’s been a circus since I got back, Lou.”

You slammed the pantry shut and went for the frozen dinner in the freezer.

“I don’t care. I didn’t hear from you for almost two straight months…”

You knew the S.A. hadn’t told her anything about your kidnapping, but you knew she had to have been worrying when you didn’t check in at all after that first time in Medellin. The sound of her emotion-choked voice made your own eyes sting.

“I’m sorry, Lou. I’ll come visit you this weekend, okay? I’m still taking care of some things at work.” Namely a grumpy supe on lockdown. “How’s school?”

“School is fine!” she snapped. You heard her take a breath, presumably to calm herself. She had a bit of a temper, just like you, but your sister managed herself much better than you. You supposed being more well-adjusted had its perks.

“Mom was worried too, but I kept her calm. Focused on work,” she said.

“I appreciate that. Thanks,” you replied. You knew you had to call your mom soon as well. Maybe you’d stop in on her after your sister.

“I better see you this weekend,” she grumbled. You smiled.

“Love you too,” you said.

“Love you…okay, I’ll let you go for now. But don’t forget!”

Once you said goodbye and hung up, you held the phone to your chest and heaved another sigh. You were exhausted, really. Sleep hadn’t been coming easy to you ever since you got back. But you knew it was nothing compared to what Ben was going through.

Which was why you visited him every day.

The next morning, you made your pitstop to the “cellar,” as you’d been calling it in your mind.

You’d brought whatever Grace allowed you to give him, like books and magazines, and an old iPod to listen to music on, but he mostly ignored you.

This time, however, he seemed in a different mood as you sat in a plastic fold out chair and ate your breakfast with him, on your side of the cell of course. You took another bite of your blueberry muffin while he pushed aside his bland-looking eggs.

“So, how much did you get paid?” he asked. His tone was nonchalant, but his gaze was accusing. You let out a breath and looked up at him.

“Enough to put my sister through college and pay off my mom’s debts,” you told him. “I took this job for my family, Ben.”

His finger tapped on his arm, but he didn’t relent. “Selling out is selling out.”

Wow. He really had the nerve to compare you to the way his team sold him out.

You’d tried to be nice. You really did. But he could be such a massive pain in the ass.

“You don’t seem to understand just how much shit I’m in for trying to help you right now,” you said.

Ben mustered up some strength and got up from his cot. He drew near to you, crossing his arms.

“If this is your idea of doing me a fucking favor, then I don’t need it,” he said angrily. “I don’t need a naive little girl like you to help me do jack shit.”

You set down your muffin and stood to your feet, matching his glare.

“Like you didn’t need my help to get into Vought Tower?” you pointed out, satisfied by the way he piped down. Silently simmering.

“If it weren’t for me, you wouldn’t even be awake right now,” you added. “You’d be back in an ice coffin.”

And that could still happen if you couldn’t convince him to cooperate with Supe Affairs.

“Fuck off,” he snapped. “And fuck you.”

Oh really? You frowned. At this point, you wanted to slap him. It seemed to be his sheer stubbornness and ego that was keeping him from his own freedom, and that, you just couldn't tolerate.

“You know what?” you said, grabbing your muffin and your fold-up chair. “Suck my dick, Ben. When you’re ready to talk to me like a human being, tap on the glass.”

You left him behind to do your real job, and this time, you didn’t let him halt your steps.

You’d scarcely entered your apartment that evening, when a shadow on the living room sofa gave you a small heart attack.

You flipped on the lights and found your younger sister, arms crossed with a raised brow. On the coffee table in front of her was a glass of soda. It looked like she’d made herself comfortable while waiting for you.

“Louisa! What are you doing here?” you exclaimed, with a hand on your chest. “Why the hell are you sitting in the dark?”

“I heard you coming up those rickety stairs and thought I’d pay you back for disappearing in South America,” she said.

But soon enough, wide grins took over both of your faces.

You pulled her into a big, warm hug. Tears burned in your eyes, and one or two slid down your cheeks as you tried to get ahold of yourself.

“I missed you so much,” you confessed. You were just slightly taller than her, able to comfortably pet her hair and press a kiss to her cheek. Louisa was just as emotional, her pretty eyes filled with happy tears.

She was about to speak when the glass on the coffee table suddenly shattered.

You both flinched, and your sister gasped. You held onto her shoulders tighter, more protective as you assessed the room. You listened closely.

A shot rang out, but it hit the wall beside your head. You moved at the last moment and narrowly avoided the third shot that would’ve struck you between the eyes.

“Get down!” you yelled, forcing your sister to crouch along with you and move across the living room.

Bullets tore with a vengeance through the windows, crashing into vases, picture frames, shattering the surface glass of the wooden coffee table, and ripping into the sofa until its internal fluff rose into the air like cotton confetti.

You protected Louisa’s head as you both took shelter behind the sofa.

“What’s happening?” she shouted over the cacophony, but you didn’t have an answer for her yet.

Your front door burst open and shattered the lock. You tensed, looking for where you stashed the spare gun you kept at home. The S.A. hadn’t gotten around to issuing you a new glock yet.

Heavy boots came through your apartment. You grabbed a piece of broken glass and told Louisa to stay down.

But when you stood and met your attacker, he was nearly three times your size. He grabbed your wrist in a firm, but not painful hold. He pulled his black ski mask down with a hand and revealed a familiar face.

Your eyes widened, your mouth gaping in shock.

“Frank?”

AN: 😏 Did I get'cha? Did I? Let me know in the comments. 😂

Next Time:

“Wait, wait. You’re not getting out of this.” Louisa leaned over and grabbed your hand. “What’s the deal with you and Soldier Boy? I thought the whole point of your mission was to capture him.”

You let out an exasperated sigh.

“I was on the job, things went sideways, I got captured, and things got…complicated.”

Frank huffed. “I think the kids are calling it Frenemies with Benefits.”

Keep Reading: PART 13

Soldier Boy Masterlist

Main Masterlist

Series Tag List:

@deans-spinster-witch @this-is-me19 @waynes-multiverse @mrsjenniferwinchester @samanddeaninatrenchcoat @spalady26 @spnwoman @syrma-sensei @wirdbeimaufhebengebunden @muhahaha303 @123passwort

@xoxovienna @katherineann83 @lollag0w0 @globetrotter28 @nancymcl @ashbatz @secretdreamlandmentality @kristophalis @wonderland2022 @emily-winchester @shelh93 @sl33pylilbunny @spoonmynoodle @chernayawidow

@buckybarnes-1917 @asgardprincess97 @sometimes-i-sing @itsyellow @karnellius @kimberleymjw @is-this-a-febreze-commercial @iamsapphine @sanscas @se-fucking-hun @lassie-bird @jessjad @yepimthatperson @fromcaintodean @stoneyggirl2

@spnfamily-j2 @im-a-slut-for-fluff @lacilou @venicesem @mimaria420 @beautiful-life-coded @tearsfortheyouth @agalliasi @chriszgirl92 @kazsrm67

#All Your Wicked Ways #soldier boy #the boys #soldier boy/ben #soldier boy x female reader #soldier boy x reader #soldier boy x you #the boys season 3 #soldier boy/ben x reader #the boys au #enemies to lovers #frenemies to lovers #private investigator!reader #the boys amazon #soldier boy smut #break me down #Part 12 #zepskies writes

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ghostlypainterslimeclod · 1 year ago

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Mike Schmidt x Male reader

1/2

Mike is such a little meow meow boy and as such I've declared him a bottom (my opinion means nothing) my first actual fic

Mild NSFW

It's late around 6 pm, your lazeing on your couch in nothing but your boxers and sweater, when you hear a knock on your door, reluctantly you get out of your comfortable spot in front of your TV to get it. Peaking through your peep hole you see your perpetually tired and pretty neighbor, Mike and suddenly you feel like maybe you should have made the extra stop to put on pants. But you're here now so you open the door, "Hello," you say nervously hiding half way behind your door hoping he doesn't notice the Minecraft boxers wrapped around your waist " what brings you over?" He looks anxious now that you've opened the door a little drop of sweat forming on his brow , "um I'm sorry to intrude and all but um..." He shifted nervously from foot to foot then said "Can you watch my little sister I have to go to work and my usual sitter is M.I.A." You think for a second then ask "What do I get out of it?" You knew he was struggling so you didn't expect money you just wanted to make the brown eyed boy squirm. "Anything." He half sighed "Anything?" You repeat questioningly "Anything" he said looking at you with his big brown eyes, how could anyone say no to him with eyes like that you thought before stating "ok I'm holding you to that."

You quickly go back inside and put on a pair of sweatpants and shut down your house before following him across the street to his place it was a carbon copy of your house just a few things were different. He leads you inside where he tells you what your responsibilities and such are like his sister's name is Abby and she spends most her time drawing and that she already ate dinner so u just gotta make sure the house doesn't burn down while he's gone, well that's what you got between checking him out and his anxious chatter. Then after that little speech he says bye to his sister to her protest as she doesn't want to be separated from her big brother, then once he separates from her he says a polite "bye" and heads out the door. Which leaves you alone with a kid you only met once before when you first moved in. Honestly you had no idea why he trusted you to watch his sister but you got to know the pretty neighbor boy better so that's a plus.

You slowly make your way to Abby's room knocking lightly, "hey can I come in?" You ask and the door is opened by the small girl. "So you're who's watching me now?" She asked unimpressed. You just nod, man kids are rude then what she said next gave you a bit of a shock, " I don't get why he talks about you so much, anyway do you like drawing," you chuckle lightly "of course, I love drawing." So you drew with the kid until she fell asleep at her desk. She is a cute kid you thought to yourself as you tucked her into bed. You then went and sat on his couch and fell asleep watching his TV.

You feel the couch dip as someone sits on it waking you, you look over to see mike then look at the clock its 10 am and you groggily say "sorry for falling asleep for so long." He looked over and apparently he didn't notice you woke up. "Sorry for waking you." He said in a whispered voice, God his voice is really nice. " So I've been thinking about what you can do to pay me." You say slyly. "Yeah," he said curiously "what?" You smirk " I'd except payment with a kiss." He instantly flushed and looked away a little bit of sweat beginning to form. You quickly say "it was just an idea you don't have to." You beginning to believe you read him wrong only for him to say "no it's ok," he turned to look at you "I was just caught off guard." He then grabbed your face giving you a small peck. Your hands going to rest on his hips as you kiss him, this one lasting longer. The kisses got more heated with each one before he pulled back, a little gasp coming from between his chapped lips. "Oh god." He groaned quietly, you gently pulled him onto your lap giving he plenty of time to pull away if he wished. His hands now rest on your shoulders, as you slowly kiss his neck his stubble scratching your face. He let out little whimpers and whines his hands going to pull on your hair. Then he jolted a little and began peeling himself away from your grasp. "hmmm..?" U look up at his questioningly "um I think um maybe we should stop, I'm really tired, and I gotta take care of Abby when she gets back." He looked nervous. it was cute his face was flushed, a tent in his worn blue jeans, and his brown eyes almost totally eclipsed by his pupils. Thought he did look like he was about to fall asleep on his feet "yeah you should get some rest." You stood up a tent in your pants as well. "Can u watch Abby again tonight?" he asked nervously "she seems to really like you." You smirk at him "you don't have to pretend you don't just want to see me again, and of course I'll come back if that's my payment." You give him one more kiss he whines into and then you go back to your place the house seems so empty compared to his. The warm lights seeming cold and the rooms look bare, but that's how it always is.

#michael afton #fnaf movie #michael x reader #michael schmidt #michael schmidt smut #michael schmidt x reader #little meow meow #mike schmidt x male reader

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olivyh · 2 years ago

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Hihi!! I absolutely love your writing :DD

Can I request an Azul x Gn!Reader in which the Reader asks Azul a bunch of ocean questions and Azul answers them in excruciating detail? Fluff please!! The questions are completely up to you :D

Please take as much time as you need on this!! Make sure to take breaks and drink water :))

Hi!! Thank you so so much <<333 sorry for the delayed response, but this was so much fun to write! I'm not the best at ocean facts, so I hope this will suffice!!! I also hoped going to more lore-based questions was alright with you!

"So... how exactly do you breathe underwater?" Azul paused and looked up from his paperwork, unable to stifle the smile that slowly crept onto his previously pursed lips. It was a quiet day in the Mostro Lounge- Floyd was actually working for once, and there weren't any rowdy customers. He'd only gotten two contract deals, much to his dismay, but he was glad that he had more free time to spend with his lover. The prefect sits in one of the wooden chairs pulled up to his desk, a plate of shrimp chips and seaweed wafers between them and munches happily, their crunching breaking the silence that was otherwise occupied by the scratching of his pen.

Lately, the two had not had much time to spend together- what with their constant running around (Azul swore that he was going to pluck all the feathers from that crow if he overwhelmed them one more time) and his busy schedule. He felt a stab of regret after watching them fall asleep in his office one night, waiting for him to finish his endless mountains of work simply so they could have dinner together. Azul had never felt his heart constrict so painfully that it brought tears to his eyes when he saw that they made him dinner in a small box, the food having gone cold hours prior. He'd sat beside them on the firm leather couch then, slowly tracing over their features with his ungloved hand and biting back the tears that broke free from his sky-blue eyes and fell freely onto the back of his other hand, clenched painfully in his lap.

"We have gills, naturally," He pauses and lifts a finger, dragging it along the large marks that lined the sides of his neck- now made visible from his unbuttoned collar. "They never fully went away in our human forms. As you know we have gills on our ribs as well. We actually have to breathe through our mouths, which then moves through our bodies and into the gill's capillaries-" He pauses, looking over to meet the prefect's eyes. He flushes a bit under their unwavering attention, but he clears his throat and continues despite the pounding in his chest. "From there, the water runs over the gills and the oxygen is picked up by these blood vessels before being expelled from the gills."

"So the water goes out and not in?"

"Correct," He smiles, raising his hand and wiping away some crumbs that made their way onto their cheek. Azul huffs playfully, chuckling under his breath. "Really, such a messy eater~". The prefect sticks out their tongue playfully before moving onto another chip, popping it into their mouth and chewing carefully while staring at the ceiling, seemingly deep in thought.

"What if you accidentally breathe something in? Can you choke?"

Azul sighs and sits back in his chair, placing his pen down and crossing his arms. He doesn't miss how they seem to grin at him and his now relaxed posture- meaning that they would be talking like this uninterrupted for a good amount of time.

"We can't choke, my Dear," He takes a breath before pointing to the marks on his neck once more. "The oxygen goes in here and then is pumped into our lungs- unlike humans, our lungs aren't connected to any sort of windpipe and is instead filtered through our blood vessels-" He moves his hand down to his ribs, drawing invisible lines along the sides. "And food can't necessarily get stuck in here either. There are no direct passageways- they're simply slits in our skin to allow for breathing."

"So," They eat another chip, offering him another one. He gladly accepts it, leaning over and allowing them to feed it to him before leaning back in his chair. "Your lungs are free floating?"

"Not exactly. It's more like... there's nothing connecting them to our throats, if that makes sense." They hum in understanding, standing quickly. The mer jumps in his seat from the sudden action, feeling his face flush when they decide to abandon their seat and replace it with his lap.

Azul swears that he saw the heavens themselves beckoning for him when he feels their fingers lightly trace over the lines on the sides of his neck before trailing down to his ribs.

"So here... and here..."

Azul, struggling to catch his breath, nods. They had been dating for quite some time, and he should very well be used to their antics by now, but he could never get over the sudden spurts of physical affection they'd give him. The small and intimate gestures made his heart race and his head spin as he could swear that his legs were turning back into tentacles as the floor seemed to warp beneath his leather shoes. Their hand slowly traces back up to his neck, giving the marks one more affectionate rub before cupping his cheek. Their soft thumb rubs the skin just below his glasses, their nail clicking against the glass for a moment as he sighs happily and leans into their touch, allowing his own hand to run gently up their forearm. He relishes in the way their hand trembles for a moment and the goosebumps that begin to litter the exposed skin of their arm, glad to know that they weren't the only one to have this effect on him.

He cups their hand in his own, pressing his cheek deeper into their warm palm as he slips his eyes closed and sighs happily, turning his head ever so slightly to press a small kiss on the underside of their wrist, allowing his lips to linger there for a moment until he could hear the way their breath hitched and their thumb's movement on his cheek stuttered.

Azul opens his eyes in time to notice their face approaching his, and he beams at the giddiness and excitement that bubbles in his chest as they pepper his face in kisses playfully, spending more time to give extra love to the mole that sat below his lip. He chuckles and does the same to their face, using his free arm to hold them close to his chest as they squirm and giggle at his actions.

The mer parts for a moment, smiling softly as his eyes trace over their flushed face, still painted with a warm smile as their eyes crinkle from the effort, turning them into the most gorgeous half-crescent shapes he swore he'd ever seen. He looked over each and every one of their features, trying in vain to immortalize this moment and live in it forever; to take hold of this comfort and adoration that consumed his spacious office and put it in a bottle for his eyes alone.

"Any other questions for me, my Dear?" They shift in his lap, now fully facing him and resting their head against his shoulder, yawning. "I'm all yours."

"I know you are," He chuckles at their response and presses a kiss to their forehead, running his hand along their hairline until he notices that their shoulders begin to rise and fall evenly as their soft snores fill his ears. Slowly, he releases their waist and reaches behind him to pull his jacket off the back of his chair. With a little difficulty, he manages to wrap it around his still-sleeping lover as he relaxes beneath them. He sighs and takes his glasses off, tossing them haphazardly onto the hardwood of his desk, and rests his head against his lover's own, deciding that he was due for an afternoon nap as well.

#twst #twst x reader #twisted wonderland x reader #twst fanfic #twisted wonderland fanfic #twst drabbles #twst one shots #twisted wonderland drabbles #twisted wonderland one shots #azul x reader #azul ashengrotto x reader #azul twst #azul ashengrotto #azul ashengrotto twst #twst azul #twst azul ashengrotto #octavinelle #octavinelle x reader

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hroscek · 4 months ago

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✎📃Dottore studying headcanons📚

Back again with more Dottore content. This is a bit of a mix between a modern au but still somehow compliant with Genshin? Idk I just wanted to write ab him studying and projecting finding inspiration in my own life without having to explain how he has access to YouTube in his akademiya days okay? Anyways enjoy and make sure to study if you happen to be procrastinating at the moment (I will know)!

⚜⚜⚜⚜⚜⚜⚜⚜⚜⚜⚜⚜⚜⚜⚜⚜⚜⚜⚜⚜⚜⚜⚜⚜⚜⚜⚜⚜

Dottore study headcanons

Probably the type that ultra-focuses on the material in front of him leading to generally neglecting any and all other needs until he physically can't anymore (nearly burnt down his dorm via hair catching fire from a candle when he fell asleep at the desk)

Thinks he's above attending lectures so he'd definitely be that one student that never shows up but still ends up acing the exams.

Fully believes that he must achieve a state of total focus to optimize his brain. This starts as threatening the other students into leaving him alone as he studies, drawing the curtains and shutting out all other distractions. Probably spent too much on finding a good noise-cancelling headset.

After getting kicked out gracefully parting ways with the akademiya he devoted some time to trying to find ways to improve his focus even more. I'm talking full blown rounds of experimentation with different methods such as binaural beats (actually works tbh), sensory deprivation tanks etc. Sort of how greater lord rukkhadevata would shut herself away to meditate, but he would never admit how similar their methods are.

Honestly I wouldn't be surprised if the original Dottore is just floating in a state of meditation rn trying to achieve max brain power (legit a headcanon for me now lmao).

Seeing as he probably doesn't sleep much, especially when in the thick of experiments he tries his best to compensate in other ways. He drank an inhuman amount of coffee or energy drinks (or both at the same time tbh) until he grew a tolerance to all forms of caffeine and is now forced to actually sleep once in a while.

He is intimately familiar with is work area and instantly knows where everything is. To outsiders it looks like a mess of various documents, piles of paper, supplies and mechanical parts. Often he asks a new intern to fetch him a sheet or something and they'll spend hours looking for it in the raven's nest that man calls an office. Then he'll show up pissed as hell like "It was under the desk next to the 3rd used energy core. Are you really that stupid?".

When he's in the zone he's deathly silent, his eyes laser focused on whatever page or machine he's trying to figure out. An observer might be afraid he'll burn a hole trough the object with his eyes. This is probably the only time he doesn't wear his mask as he doesn't want anything to obstruct him. Archons couldn't help the unfortunate soul who dares to interrupt him in this state. Instant volunteer for his next experiment.

Pantalone once decided to gift him with an expensive stationery set in a desperate attempt to get him to organize his study. It included quills, ink, various highlighters and organizers all in pastels with cute motifs. "To bring some positivity to the gloomy atmosphere around you!". Dottore claimed to hate it but was seen months later using a kitten-themed notepad at one of his labs.

✮✮✮✮✮✮✮✮✮✮✮✮✮✮✮✮✮✮✮✮✮✮✮✮✮✮✮✮✮✮✮✮✮✮✮✮✮✮

Another post, another slay (probs a flop). I'm currently taking a half-voluntary gap year because I decided to switch universities a little too late in the year oops. And honestly in this time I've realized how much I thrive in the academic environment and I miss studying so much! Idk might sound a bit too optimistic coming from someone who's currently not under any pressing deadlines or tests but I really do miss it. As much as I hated crunching the night before a test and stressed about the material I believe it's an environment I truly thrive in. I really do find such comfort in being able to take notes, discuss with classmates and professors. It's probably one of the many reasons I find Dottore relatable. We both share such a thirst for knowledge and focus way too much on our favorite subjects. I'm rambling, sorry. Thank you so much for reading and please don't be shy to send me asks or comments with ideas you'd like me to expand upon. I'm still pretty new to writing in fandom space so I'd really be grateful to get feedback and see what the community wants lol.

Have a good day! ❀

#I need to see dottore just focusing on some difficult lab results with his messy hair and bags under eyes #he's so hot omg #dottore #genshin dottore #dottore headcanons #pantalone #fatui harbingers #genshin headcanons #study headcanons #not beta read

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hearts-are-connected · 1 year ago

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Random Alex Casey Headcanons

There's an empty couch open to Casey whenever he needs it. I picture one of the Anderson's walking to the kitchen and finding Casey on the couch, sleeping deeper than he ever does at his home, and he stays for breakfast before hitting the road. Or they know he's been there and left early by the neatly folded blanket and pillow sitting in the living room.

Logan enjoys drawing pictures of tired, grump Uncle Casey while he's asleep. She says he's at his most relaxed.

The Anderson's keeping certain food items or coffee blend they know he likes in their home for such occasions. Even including gifts for him under their tree because it's tradition for him to join them Christmas morning.

If he reluctantly takes part in an ugly sweater competition or two, no one is wiser as he swears everyone to secrecy regarding their photos.

Casey and his wife Miranda got a divorce due to mounting issues. The worst loss for them being a miscarriage.

Miranda fell into bad habits, and as such, took her aggression and heartache out on Casey, who tried to make things work while continuing to do his job. It got so bad that in the middle of the night, after a particularly bad argument, Casey left. All he took from the home was his favorite three-piece suit, work related items, every drawing Logan had gifted him, and a pair of shoes. He then proceeded to walk aimlessly through the dark, leaving the car behind, seeing as it was in his soon-to-be ex-wife's name.

David Anderson was leaving to go to work the following morning and was surprised to find Casey asleep on their front porch with his small box of items beside him. After rousing him and collecting his things, David put Casey to bed in one of the spare bedrooms, which ultimately became his own until the divorce was settled and Casey found a place not far from them.

Casey is a fine cook, despite everything pointing to the contrary. For a man who looks like he survives off six coffees a day with the occasional sandwich, he can fix a meal that'll leave most wanting seconds or thirds. As a thank you to the Anderson's for their hospitality to him, he cooked enough food to last them a month and provided the recipe for each dish.

When Casey first met Saga, he didn't think much of her. Figuring she'd buckle under the pressure of the job and go back home to find another career. To his surprise, she became a bright light amongst her peers. Enough so that he took her under his wing personally to teach her what knowledge he'd acquired over the years. Not realizing that in doing so, he'd not only gain a new partner, but that he'd eventually come to be adopted into a family he would cherish and gladly give his life for.

The first time he met Logan Anderson was when she was only a day old. Reluctantly entering the hospital room, the sight of Saga laid up in bed cradling her newborn daughter had pierced his hard shell in a way he hadn't thought it would. When Saga and David finally convinced him to hold Logan, he did so carefully. It was one of the first times both the new parents had seen Alex Casey genuinely smile. Teeth and all.

Logan became the brightest light Casey could remember entering his life, aside from her mother, of course. To those at the bureau, he was still the same jaded, hardened agent they'd known for years, but to those who paid closer attention, small glimpses of change appeared. Little things like a child's drawing appearing on his desk, or a coffee mug with 'My favorite Uncle' printed on it alongside a cartoon fox.

He was once ambushed on a case resulting in numerous injuries and a decent recovery time. It was the first time Logan had ever seen her uncle hurt that severely. It felt as if each time Casey woke, he'd find a small reminder that she'd been there hidden somewhere near his bed. He occasionally woke to a small kiss on his cheek. He kept one of the smaller stuffed animals she's placed on his bed. Furthermore, he always packs it in his suitcase when he's away from home, either for work or the rare rest and relaxation. Saga's never let him live it down.

The angriest he's ever been, besides numerous incidents with his ex, was when he saw a group of older kids shove an eight-year-old Logan to the dirt at the playground. Saga swears all four boys who'd bullied her daughter ran home crying when confronted by Casey.

Saga and Logan are the only ones who Casey allows close enough to snuggle. Something he'll deny until blue in the face, but on more than one occasion, either Anderson can be found using his lap as a pillow while he uses said time to catch up on some reading.

#alan wake #alan wake 2 #alex casey #saga anderson #Logan anderson #headcanon #Sam Lake what have you done to me #David Woods

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cheesecake-beech · 1 year ago

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Imagine Vicious 6 favorite Sanrio character

UH YES FREAKING PLEASE

sorry I went kinda crazy on this KJFGKDFAHHDKSJ

IT DIDN'T EVEN TAKE ME THAT LONG TO MAKE THESE ONLY LIKE- 1pm-10pm TODAY TO GET ALL THESE DONE I WAS FREAKING FOCUSED ON DRAWING THESE LMAO Bro I was so inspired THIS WAS SO FUN TO DRAW LOL

ANYWAY, VICIOUS 6 SANRIO BUDDIES???

Wild Knuckles - Bad Badtz-Maru & Pochacco

Old man is tasked with taking care of a dog and a penguin, dog is like a good doggo son to old man, meanwhile penguin is a troublemaker for old man. (something he's all too familiar dealing with skadjak.)

Badtz-Maru probably makes is a pain in the ass to look after him.

probably skateboarding everywhere inside his house, screeching his guitar just to be annoying

when he tries to give them food or sumthin, he probably does that spoon thing where you flick it and it just ZOOOOM DFSHFKHSDJ

Meanwhile Pochacco is just a good boy.

He plays outside, but he's polite about it. He has nice manners.

Oh and he takes naps on his couch.

Badtz also probably does a freaking kick-flip over the wall because he's bored and wants to go do something else, or to also just inconvenience Knuckles 💀, grampa YOINKS doggo from his nap (because obviously he can't just leave him at home by himself) then books it after him.

Belle Bottom - Kuromi & Chococat

They are the moment. Belle probably likes Kuromi because of her fashion sense and her slayness,

and Chococat, probably thought he was cute and now he's her little buddy. Probably just sits in her hair or on the desk when she's at the lair doing work n stuff.

Belle takes them shopping, because yes.

Jean Clawed - Keroppi & Minna No Tabo

He just accidentally got stuck with watching both of them

The little boy suddenly grabbed onto him and he was trying to shake him off his leg, because who the heck let a tiny kid into the lair. Then all of a sudden a frog fell from the top shelf so he caught him with his claw.

Keroppi didn't like seeing the giant claw hand all that much.

Especially being inside of it.

Minna no tabo just waddled into the base and thought he looked cool.

Jean is kinda freaking out when there's a frog boy crying freaking out and he's unsure what to do with the kid on his leg.

Svengeance - Pompompurin

COME ON- GOLDEN RETREIVER FOR GOLDEN RETIEVER BOY? AUDDHFSHJFHDK IT'S JUST TO GOOD

Sven absolutely loves him and will protect him and loves how squishy he is.

Pompom likes everyone, he sees big guy and sees big guy as friend, he also has similar colour hair! Besties!

Stronghold - Hangyodon

He likes how this guy looks, he thinks he looks funny so he grabbed him and put him on his shoulder.

Hangyodon was just like "k" he doesn't mind, he also thinks he looks cool.

Plus he also likes sitting on his shoulder while walking around.

Hangyodon and do or say anything and it'll probably make Stronghold laugh just because of how silly he looks to him.

Nunchuck - Corocorokuririn

Don't ask

She believes he will make great company as a evil companion in all her crimes.

He's just there.

EXTRA UNDER THE CUT!

Valerie - My Melody & Hello Kitty

She would spoil them, she would take them everywhere. GIRLS' DAY OUTTT

She would TREAT THESE BABIES to EVERYTHING.

SLAY all DAY

Take them out for sweet treats and other stuff, like everythings on her.

ONCE MELODY AND KITTY MENTION KUROMI AND MIMMY YOU BET YOUR ASS SHE'S ALSO GOING TO INSIST THESE GIRLS BUY THINGS FOR THEM dskjdhfdsafgkd

She finds them SO CUTE AND PRECIOUS

Like she looks calm but on the inside she's dying from cuteness

Alan - Marumofubiyori (Moppu)

Alan would've probably accidentally picked them up like "Ayo who tf is this and where did they even come from" and when Moppu suddenly just, falls asleep, Alan would probably just awkwardly start holding him unsure about what to do.

But he'd just sit down and let Moppu sleep, then after a while he'd also probably fall asleep as well, because he also probably needs a nap dshfsfafhdfkdj

They both snore lol

Elliot - My Sweet Piano & Cinnamoroll

OH YEAH, BBY ELLIOT LOVES BABIES??

Bro would be dying and sobbing from how cute they are

Cinnamoroll probably just flies around his house while Piano puts flowers around to decorate.

I wouldn't be surprised if how Cinnamo and Elliot met is if Elliot was just washing dishes and Cinnamoroll just flew in through the window and into his face.

Claude - Tuxedo Sam Tako - Strawberry King Claudia - Pippo

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leyseyb · 2 years ago

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could i req xavier x reader where theyre like roommates and enemies and they get into a heated fight and when theyre sleeping reader wakes up in the middle of the night trying to wake up xavier for cuddles/hugs bcs theyre cold

in the middle of the night [x.t.]

xavier thorpe x g.n.! reader

warnings: swear words

xavier was your roommate when you were at nevermore. and sadly you spend most of the time at nevermore, since it‘s your school.

you were roommates for almost two years now but none of you could grow a liking towards the other. or just didn‘t make it obvious.

you both always got into fights which resulted in ignoring each other, messing up the stuff of the other, namecalling and even more. even your friends knew how much you despised one another, so they tried to keep you apart as good as they could.

one day you were trying to sleep, your day wasn‘t the best as you just received a bad grade, slipped on some yoghurt in the cafeteria and hurt yourself. and with the stuff that was going on with the monster walking around, you were just anxious something could happen.

you were laying in bed, your blanket pulled over your head as xavier decided to keep his lights on and blast music.

„i swear to god thorpe, at least turn off that music! i want to sleep!“

„sorry, not gonna happen“

he just said and went back to his sketchbook on his desk, continuing to draw something in it.

you had enough of arguing with him. not gonna happen. you jumped out of your bed, as fast as you could with your bruises and injuries, made your way over to xavier‘s music box and turned it off.

you made your way back to your bed and sat down, sighing as it was finally silent.

„what the fuck? what is wrong with you?!“

xavier asked and turned around to you.

„with me? what is wrong with you?! i asked you to turn the music off because i want to sleep! what’s so difficult to understand?“

xavier sighed and shook his head.

„don‘t touch any of my fucking stuff again.“

„or what? you‘re going to draw a butterfly and let it attack me, huh??“

you rolled your eyes and layed back down. xavier is an ass. you were only an inch away to ask for a different roommate. you just couldn‘t do this anymore. luckily you fell asleep pretty quickly, saving you from dealing with xavier.

but once xavier went to bed as well and fell asleep, you started to feel bad. you immediately woke up, your body shaking because you were feeling so cold. you looked around as it felt like all of the windows were open, but they were indeed closed. you sighed and sat up. you didn‘t have a second blanket. and you also couldn‘t sneak out to get one. you looked around the room, trying to find something to warm you up while wrapping your only blanket around you tightly.

your eyes landed on xavier, your head telling you to go over there and ask for a warm night shelter.

„oh hell nah“

you quietly said to yourself.

„over my dead body.“

you layed back down, trying your best to keep you warm by hugging yourself and rubbing your feet together. but nothing was helping. you were still cold but also felt way to weak to go over to xavier‘s bed.

but it was the only option inside of this room.

so you got up on your shaky legs and made your way over to xavier‘s bed. you stood there for a good two minutes just looking at xavier and contemplating your decision.

you hated it. you didn‘t want to do it. but there was no other option and you didn‘t want to die.

„thorpe“

you said and poked his warm cheek as he was sleeping.

„thorpe“

you continued it but you couldn‘t wake him up, it was like he turned to stone. but ajax wasn‘t near so that‘s not the case.

„xavier thorpe“

you said a bit louder and shook his shoulder, earning a grunting sound and some slight movement from his side.

„goddamn just wake the fuck up!“

you said, almost slapping his cheek. but he woke up from your loud voice, furrowing his eyebrows and looking around the room, searching for the disturbing source. his eyes landed on you and he immediately rolled his eyes.

„what do you want? am i snoring too loud? sorry but that‘s something i can‘t control“

„no, it‘s not that. i‘m cold“

you said, your whole body continuing to shiver.

„why are you telling me this?“

„please let me sleep next to you.“

„no.“

„i even said please!“

„and i can‘t stand you! so no!“

you sighed but didn‘t leave the spot you were standing on.

„thorpe. i don‘t have any extra blankets and the windows are closed too. i won‘t come near you, i just need the warmth.“

xavier sat up and looked at you with slightly swollen eyes.

„i won‘t let you near me. don‘t even think about touching me in any way“

„never did, never will.“

you said and rolled your eyes before making your way over to the empty spot on xavier‘s bed, laying down and pulling your and xavier‘s blanket over you. you turned your back towards him and closed your eyes, already feeling how your body was slowly warming up, as you slowly stopped shivering.

you quickly fell asleep and even slept through your own alarm in the morning. since your phone was on the other side of the room, you wouldn‘t hear it.

as xavier‘s phone started ringing, trying to wake you both, you opened your eyes slowly. your head was pounding, eyes swollen and your limbs were hurting. you looked around for xavier‘s phone, wanting to turn the alarm off, as you felt…caged?

you turned your head and xavier’s was only inches away.

„jesus christ!“

you got startled and quickly turned your head back, which resulted in more pain.

xavier had his arms wrapped around you, hugging you tightly to himself. he woke up through your startled noise and furrowed his eyebrows. he then heard his alarm as well and quickly turned it off.

„five more minutes…“

he mumbled and cuddled his face back into the back of your head.

it didn‘t take long for him to realize what was happening at the moment, his eyes opening again to scan the situation.

„xavier. can you let go?“

„oh fuck, sorry. of course.“

he immediately removed his arms around you and scooted a few inches backwards. what he didn‘t see was the end of his bed, which he fell down with a loud noise.

you got up and looked down at him.

„are you okay??“ you helped him up, trying not to laugh.

xavier grabbed your hand and got up, sitting back down on his bed and rubbing his back.

„i‘m fine.“ he looked up at your face, seeing that you tried not to laugh.

„don‘t get any wrong ideas. you just wouldn‘t stop shivering so i hugged you.“

he said and looked away again.

„yeah, sure. no problem. thank you“

you just said and nodded before making your way over to the bathroom to get ready for the day, starting with some pain killers for your head..

#xavier thorpe #xavier thorpe x reader #xavier x reader #x reader #x you #x reader fluff #x gn reader #x you fluff

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spacesquidlings · 1 year ago

Text

Kiss Me Once (I've Had A Long Night)

Description: The hour is late, and Marius is exhausted, not that fatigue has ever stopped him from working late into the night before. But there are ways he can be coaxed into resting early, so long as his beloved is involved.

Pairing: Marius von Hagen x OC (Rowan)

Warnings: None (although there is some SLIGHT suggestive content but this is Marius we're talking about lads)

Notes: Hello hello!!! This is my very first attempt at a Marius fic!!! He's just so silly and cute I think it was inevitable. I hope this makes you smile as much as I did when I wrote it!!!

**********************************

A soft groan, nearly mistakable for a sigh, had the usual sighs that fell from his lips not been loud and dramatic, meant to draw attention rather than convey any true emotion.

Rowan looked up from the screen of her laptop, propped precariously on her lap as she’d worked on her own projects while Marius was busy. He’d only just returned to his office, his crisp suit jacket tossed haphazardly to the side as he cradled his head in one palm, a rare moment of vulnerability he would never let anyone else see.

She closed her computer, setting it to the side before making her way across the office, the sound of her footsteps muffled by the soft rug that had been thrown across the floor. Marius looked up as she approached, the bags under his eyes more prominent than they had been that morning.

“What’s wrong?” She asked, perching on the edge of his desk, gently brushing his hair back from his brow.

He offered a wan smile, trying to summon up the last of the energy and charisma she had seen before they’d parted ways in front of Pax. He’d feigned confidence at the time, shrugging off her concerns about some of the long meetings he was scheduled for that day.

And it was clear that she had been right to be worried, as she peered down into Marius’ exhausted face, lines forming between his brows as they pressed together, the corners of his lips turning down in the slightest of frowns.

Rowan’s heart ached, and she reached out to gather him in her arms, cradling his head against her chest before he could even give words to whatever was weighing him down.

He snorted, although his arms still wrapped themselves around her waist, holding himself closer, breathing in the smell of her shirt and the new perfume he had given her.

“Did you miss me that much?” He asked, his voice muffled, his face still smushed against her chest.

She gently shoved him away, frowning down at the little smirk that had curved across his lips. His hands slid to her waist, and she resisted sighing as he stroked his thumb in small circles against her side.

He chuckled. “You couldn’t even handle sitting a few feet away from me?”

Now she smacked him, although that did little to quell the mischievous light that danced in his amethyst eyes. Not that it lasted for very long, fatigue smothering the impish mask he had tried to draw across his face.

“Marius,” she said, his name on her lips much softer than she had intended. She’d been hoping to go for a more admonishing tone, but it came off as more of a quiet plea.

He sighed again, more dramatically than he had the first time, very clearly playing it up, never one to leave out the dramatics when he could. He laid his head on her lap, the light in his eyes dying as he huffed.

“I’m alright,” he said, although he did not make eye contact, instead still staring at the papers scattered over his desk that he had been pouring over for hours already.

She ran her fingers through his hair, mussing the dark locks as he closed his eyes, not even bothering to make a quip about ruining his hair. Or perhaps what the ruining of his hair would imply, as they had been alone for so many hours.

Rowan narrowed her eyes further, not sure she liked this sudden quiet. It was very unlike him, even when half asleep he would sometimes murmur soft words, barely heard in that liminal space between waking and sleeping. Or he would whimper if she moved, shifting closer again and burying his face against her shoulder.

Unnerved with the silence, Rowan pinched Marius’ cheek, tugging until his eyes flew open, the light catching in his eyes so they shone like gems.

“You’re clearly not alright,” she groused, releasing his cheek and leaning down to brush a kiss to the splotch of red she had left on his skin. “You’ve barely made a single joke.”

He groaned, closing his eyes once again. “I’ll have you know I can make meaningful conversation without joking around.”

“You’re not even making conversation,” she pointed out, laughing softly. “Marius, you’re worrying me.”

Another groan, as though it physically pained him as he drew himself up from her lap, his eyes slowly opening again to find her own.

“I don’t mean to worry you,” he said, words so soft they were little more than breath. He dug the heels of his hands against his eyes before dropping them onto the desk, glaring down at the papers he disturbed and sent scattering along the wooden surface. “It’s been a long day.”

She cupped his cheeks, drawing his gaze back to hers as she tipped his head up. “Was it the meetings? You were in the last one for two hours longer than usual.”

He pursed his lips, covering her hands with his. “I’m the president and still it feels like they hardly listen to me. It’s just getting a little tiring lately.”

“You’re doing the best you can,” she said, stroking her thumb across his cheek. “That’s all you can do, my love.”

“Feels like I could be doing more.”

She snorted, leaning forward to press a kiss to his brow. “Well not much is going to get done this late at night. Why don’t we go home?”

He whimpered when she started pulling away, his hands tightening on her wrists. Stifling a smile, Rowan dotted another few kisses across his face. “If we go home I promise there’s more where that came from.”

Marius hummed, squeezing her wrists where his hands encircled them. “It sounds like you just want an excuse to kiss me.”

Rowan would have scoffed and pulled away had she not been now trapped in a precarious position, Marius holding fast to her arms, moving close enough that there was no escape route.

Well, that wasn’t entirely true. She could scoot herself backwards on his desk and then kick him away, but she knew that would look utterly absurd and she didn’t want to knock over any of the books or papers or pens that littered his desk.

“If that’s not what you want, you can just say so,” she huffed, pulling away from him so at least his face wasn’t a mere breath away from her own.

His lips pulled into a pout almost instantly, and he whined as he stood, thumbs stroking against her arms. “I didn’t say that. I was only joking, please don’t be mad.”

It was incredibly difficult to ever be mad when he was looking at her like that, his eyes wide and pleading, his bottom lip trembling like he might burst into tears at any moment. He clasped his hands around hers, tugging them towards his chest. “Please, miss.”

She bit down on the inside of her cheek, although that was not enough to stop her smile. He was too cute, and he surely knew it. She’d never been able to say no to his face as it was, and she certainly couldn’t when he looked as he did now.

“I’m not mad,” she said at last, wishing she could stop grinning even as relief shone in his eyes, nearly hiding the smug delight sparking in their depths.

“But,” she continued, wrestling one arm free to tap his cheek. “If you want anything more then we have to go home.”

A sigh, this one full of the dramatics she was accustomed to. His head tipping to the side, his shoulders slumping forward, his forehead crinkling as his brows drew together.

“You win,” he said at last, although a smile touched his lips, as though he were anything but annoyed to finally be leaving the office.

Unfortunately, Rowan didn’t notice as Marius quickly gathered up the paperwork he had been going through and tucked it into his bag before offering her his arm. The building would be all but deserted by now, and there would be no one to spy on them or make comments about their president being a little too cozy in public with his girlfriend.

He dozed beside her on the car ride home, his head falling on her shoulder, his lashes tickling her throat as he struggled to keep his eyes open. She struggled to stifle her laughter, not wanting to disturb him. He was so tired, and she wasn’t sure she had even realized how tired he had been all day. He needed this small nap, even if it was only to give him the energy to get ready for bed.

He grew whiny as the car drew to a stop, clinging to Rowan as they climbed from their seats and made their way to their room. She had to very nearly pry his arms from her waist so she could shower, instructing him to get ready for bed.

Unfortunately, it was only once Rowan emerged from the shower, rivulets of water snaking down her cheeks and down the back of her neck from her still-damp hair, that she realized he had snuck his paperwork home.

Marius looked up from whatever he had been reading, shock registering in his face a moment too slow before Rowan was beside him, arms crossed as she glowered down at the papers in his hands. She felt equal parts furious and heartbroken, having wanted to take care of him for just a few hours, to alleviate at least a little of his stress. And here he was, working after he’d said he was done.

“Marius. Von. Hagen,” she ground out, internally deciding that she would not be changing into the new, wispy nightgown that had mysteriously shown up in her drawer a few days prior.

He had the gall to give her a cheeky smile, arching his brow as his gaze swept over her bathrobe. His eyes shifted to her chest, where the fabric flopped forward, and Rowan furiously tightened the ties, ensuring there was nothing for him to see.

“I thought you were going to rest,” she said, her voice coming out too close to a whine. She wanted to sound annoyed, angry even. Why couldn’t he care about his health and his rest for just one day?

His smug expression fell, his shoulders slumping. “I just want to get this done, I’ll earn more respect if I can complete this.”

She perched beside him, at a loss for words as his lips pressed into a thin line. Instead she just took his hand, gently pressing her thumbs into his palm.

��What are you doing?” He asked, some of that stress falling away as he watched her, bemused.

“Massaging your hand,�� she groused, feeling like she ought to glower at him, but not being able to. She just wanted to hold him close, wanted to take all his worries away. “So they don’t cramp.”

He was silent for a moment, only the sound of paper shuffling filling the air as he ducked his head.

“Are you mad at me?” He asked at last, peeking up at her from beneath the fringe of his bangs.

“No, of course not,” she said, letting one hand fall and reaching for his other. “I just… I just wish you would rest a little more, and take time for yourself. Your best isn’t working yourself into the ground, or losing sleep.”

He dropped his gaze, setting the papers to the side as he squirmed in place. “I’m sorry, Rowan. I don’t mean to worry you.”

“It’s not something you need to apologize for,” she said, lowering his hand back into his lap. She turned her thoughts over in her mind again and again, trying to find the right words to convey how she felt, the strange helplessness over watching him grow more and more stressed.

“I think I would just like to help, and I don’t really know how.”

“This helps,” he said, voice soft as freshly fallen snow. “You being here helps.”

Rowan hummed, taking Marius’ head and cradling him against her shoulder. “Would something like a massage help you at all? At least to feel a little less stressed?”

“I’m sure it would, but-”

“You know…” She continued, trailing off as she curled a lock of his hair around her finger. “I might have learned how to give a massage.”

Marius pulled away, quirking a brow as a smirk slid across his lips. “You did?”

Rowan huffed, regretting having told him anything. Although she should have anticipated this kind of response, and it wasn’t like she had learned it just because. She’d paid for a day class, so she could help ease any of the aches in his body, help wash away some of the stress and tension he carried with him day-to-day.

She felt heat crawl across her cheeks as Marius continued to regard her carefully, his smile spreading. He looked partly curious, but mostly there was a self-satisfied pleasure in his eyes, a joy that only came from finding something worth teasing her about.

Now he was the one cupping her face, the mood entirely shifting as his eyes held fast to hers. His hand shifted down the column of her throat, his thumb gently pressing against the spot where her pulse was thrumming wildly now, with Marius so very close to her.

“Did you take a class, just for me?” He asked, his voice lilting with his obvious delight. “Were you so worried about me?”

She puffed out her cheeks, trying to pull away. Her face was burning now, and she could feel the flush of her skin beginning to creep down her neck, over her shoulders and down her chest. Her entire body was surely the colour of a burning sunset now, and she knew if she stayed so close to him any longer she would turn firetruck red and Marius would tease her for it until she could barely speak.

“Ah, don’t go,” he whined, pouting as she managed to drag herself from his grasp. “I’m sorry, Rowan. I really am.”

“I don’t believe you,” she said, crossing her arms as she put space between the two of them. “And if you don’t want a massage you can just say so. It’s not like it would be very good anyways.”

His bottom lip quivered, and he pressed his palms against his thighs. “I didn’t say that. Please come back.”

There was really no point in resisting him, not when her heart was already aching from the small distance between them. She wanted to be close again, even if it meant risking catching fire from the heat he always ignited with his words.

So Rowan returned to his side, directing him to turn around so she could properly attempt to massage his back.

“Shouldn’t I take my shirt off?” He asked, voice dipping low as he peeked at her over his shoulder, smirking once more. “Would you like that?”

She clicked her tongue, trying to ignore the warmth blooming in her cheeks once more. She really could not catch a break with this man, could she?

“Taking your shirt off would be better, yes,” she said, trying to keep her tone prim. As if he hadn’t already sketched his gaze across her face, noting the colour staining her cheeks, creeping up towards her hair and over the shell of her ears.

He kept his gaze locked on hers as he shrugged out of his jacket, tossing it to the side before slowly unbuttoning his shirt.

Rowan’s fingers itched to help him along, to slide her fingers down his chest as she undid the buttons for him. But Marius seemed to know exactly what she was thinking, smiling wider as he quickly slipped his shirt off and let it fall next to his jacket, denying her any chance of helping.

She bit her tongue to temper her annoyance. What a brat.

“How’s that?” He asked, turning around so all she could see were the planes of his back, the flex of his muscles as he tried to straighten his posture.

She tasted blood in her mouth now, and she had to stop biting her tongue lest she bite through it entirely. Was he teasing her? Was he teasing her with the knowledge that his chest was bared, but she could not see it?

Shaking her head, Rowan tried to dispel the desire that crept at the edges of her mind. It was late, she really did just want Marius to feel relaxed enough to sleep.

“It’s perfect,” she said, trying to keep her tone light.

His shoulders shook as he laughed quietly, the muscles in his back again flexing. It was all Rowan could do not to follow the curve of his spine lowers, to not think about how broad his shoulders were, how slender his waist.

Instead, she settled her hands on his shoulders, trying to remember the lone class she had taken. She’d been so nervous she’d sat in the back, not wanting to draw any attention to herself.

She ran her hands along his shoulders then back towards his neck, gently pressing her thumbs against the skin of his back, massaging gently at the nape of his neck before she slid her hands up then down again. She repeated the motion a few times, certain she was catching on knots of tension in his shoulders.

A soft sigh slipped past his lips, his head hanging forward. Rowan smiled to herself, sliding her hands down his back, pressing the heels of her hands down on either side of his spine until she reached his hips. She hesitated for a moment before moving her hands to either side of his waist and sliding them back up to his shoulder blades.

She paused for a moment, a slight ache in her arms. Marius was a good deal taller than she was, and it was quickly becoming awkward reaching for his shoulders in their current position.

He turned to look at her over his shoulder, genuine curiosity and what might have been a touch of disappointment staining his tone. “Why’d you stop?”

Rowan worried her bottom lip, wondering if it was worth mentioning.

“Rowan? What’s wrong?”

She couldn’t stay silent when he was looking at her so mournfully, not when there was such pleading in his eyes.

“It just feels a little awkward how we’re sitting right now,” she admitted, pressing her hands to her chest so she did not wring them as his brows slowly lifted. “I was thinking it might be easier if you lie down on the bed.”

The ghost of a smile curled at the corners of his lips, the amethyst of his eyes turning to the wine-dark of the sea. His tone was sultry, and it lingered in the air as he breathed a quiet “oh?”

Feeling as though a fire had been lit in her bones, Rowan smacked him gently, scooting backwards. “Not like that. My arms just ache a little from having to lift them up to reach your shoulders.”

His grin widened, but then he stood, seeming to oblige. “Alright. Let me change out of my clothes.” His gaze swept over her, colour staining his cheeks. “You should, too. It can’t be comfortable in that robe.”

She blinked, having nearly forgotten she was still wearing her bathrobe. Rowan stood quickly, nearly skidding into the dresser in her haste to grab her pajamas. But Marius stayed her hand as she grabbed for the soft sleep shirt and matching pants with little purple stars stitched down the sleeves and legs.

“Not those,” he said, his gaze directed towards the folded nightgown beside them. “Why not that one? It looks new.”

“I don’t know what you think is happening here,” Rowan said, slowly drawing her hand from his grip. “But I am still a little annoyed with you.”

He pouted. “Come on, miss. I had it made just for you.”

She sighed, her head falling back as she dropped the pajamas. “Fine, you win.”

He beamed, taking her hand once more and brushing his lips to her knuckles. “Thank you, love. I love to see you in such pretty things.”

She cradled her hand to her chest once he’d released it, unable to meet his gaze now as he continued to grin. “I just didn’t want to argue with you when I want you to rest right now.”

He chuckled, reaching out to pinch her cheek playfully. “Alright. I’ll be right back, try not to miss me.”

She scowled as he slipped into the bathroom, quickly changing from her robe into the flimsy, violet nightgown. She ran her hands down the sides, feeling the soft embroidered flowers and vines that twined together, creeping up towards the nearly scandalous neckline. The sheer sleeves billowed over her arms, cinching at her wrists, and they do had a curling pattern of petals and blooming flowers and vines. Peering at herself in the mirror, Rowan felt as though she were wearing a garden bathed in the strange light of the pre-dawn, when the moon was sinking and the indigo of night was softening into violets and lavenders, not yet stained by the gold of the sun.

“It’s beautiful, right?”

Rowan spun around at the sound of Marius’ voice, not having heard him as he finished up in the bathroom. He padded towards her, looking more awake than he had before, his eyes shining with barely veiled desire.

“You look beautiful,” he continued, hands falling to her hips, trailing down lower, towards the hem that barely reached past her upper thighs. His lips brushed against her ear, goosebumps trailing down her arms and legs as his breath tickled her face. “So beautiful.”

Her stomach twisted, heat flaring in her core, and she had to press both hands to his chest and gently shove him away. It was late, he was certainly tired.

“You promised-”

“I didn’t promise anything,” he said, mischief in his smile as he took her hands from his chest, brushing his lips against them again and again.

Rowan’s legs were beginning to feel weak, and she was struggling to think straight. Hadn’t this started innocently enough? She’d only wanted to help him relax, and now he was teasing her, trying to get her to give in to his mischief.

Steeling herself, Rowan managed to wrestle one hand free, pinching his cheek. “Marius! Von! Hagen!”

He had the gall to continue grinning, covering her hand with his as though she were touching him tenderly. “Yes, my love?”

“No funny business!”

“There’s nothing funny about what I want to do-”

She pinched his cheek harder, and he swatted her hand away, laughing. “Alright, alright. You win, this time.”

She scowled, pointing to the bed. “Lie down.”

He lifted his hands, palms up as though in surrender. “Yes ma’am.”

“You’re really trying my patience right now.”

“If you’d like-”

She pointed at the bed again. “Lie! Down!”

Marius was still laughing as he did as he was told, lying face down on the bed, gathering the pillows up in his arms as he tilted his head to the side, watching as she approached.

“What am I going to do with you?” She grumbled, kneeling next to him, trying to remember where she had left off.

“Love me, I hope,” he suggested. “Kiss me?”

She sighed, covering her face. “Marius, do you want me to do this or not?”

Another huff of laughter, followed by a sigh as he readjusted, getting more comfortable. “Alright, my love. I’m at your mercy.”

She rolled her eyes, even as a small smile tugged at her lips.

The angle now was certainly a bit better, and Rowan felt more comfortable moving from his back to his shoulders. She circled her palms over his shoulder blades before dipping her hands lower once more, the heels of her hands meeting a few inches above the waist of her sleep pants. She slid her hands back up his spine then, thumbs pressing against his spine until she reached the base of his neck and she smoothed her palms across his shoulders.

“Does that feel okay?” She asked, gently leaning forward and putting more weight into her hands.

Marius hummed, and she took that as a yes, and repeated the motions a few more times, pausing periodically to check in to see if he was still feeling alright.

She hoped this work, she really sincerely did hope this would help him feel at least a little better. And maybe he would wake in the morning and feel some of his stress and anxieties gone, and he wouldn’t feel so panicked to finish some of the work he’d been going through.

“Marius,” she said, running her hands over his shoulders. “Can you please move your arms, I can try massaging those too if you want.”

There was no response, only the gentle sigh of his breath.

“Marius?” She asked again, pausing her movements. “Are you okay?”

Still there was no response. Rowan shifted, leaning over so she could get a look at his face, hoping to grab his attention if he had spaced out.

Instead she was met with Marius’ sleeping face, his eyes closed, lashes fanning out against the curve of his cheeks, even breaths falling from his slightly parted lips.

“Oh Marius,” she breathed, brushing his bangs back from his face. All that teasing and he’d fallen asleep in mere minutes.

Her heart ached, and fatigue weighed heavy on her body. The soft blankets and Marius’ warmth were like a siren song, coaxing her towards sleep and oblivion. He looked so sweet, so warm and comfortable. How could she not want to curl up beside him and sleep?

“Goodnight, my love,” she murmured, brushing the whisper of a kiss against his cheek. “I hope you sleep well, and you feel better in the morning.”

She fiddled with the blankets, struggling to drag them out from underneath him so she could drape them over his sleeping form. And then she tucked herself beneath the blankets too, wrapping her arms around his waist and nestling as close as she could, smiling as she felt herself drifting off, happy she was able to ease at least a little of the stress he was forever carrying around. Even if he’d teased her for it. And she would happily do it again, would happily do anything if it meant making his day a little better.

“I love you,” she whispered, wiggling closer. “I’ll see you in the morning.”

#marius von hagen #lu jinghe #tears of themis marius #tot marius #tears of themis lu jinghe #marius von hagen x rosa #marius x rosa #marius x oc #lu jinghe x rosa #lu jinghe x reader #wonderstruck

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definitelynotafurinasimp · 2 years ago

Note

Ah, I see I was a bit late on the draw with my request. Oh well, c’est la vie!

In that case could I please get prompt 7 with Kokomi?

“Shush and go back to bed”

Characters: Kokomi x gn!reader

Warnings: none, just fluff

This post is part of my 800 Follower event, if you’re interested in reading more fics belonging to it, you can find them on my blog under the tag #JustASimp’sSimpingEvent

a/n: I... didn't write for my event in quite some time, so I'll try to do that more frequently from now on, no promises though.

If this isn't what you envisioned or you simply aren't happy with it, just tell me what to do different and I'll try again.

Anyway, hope you enjoy!

Kokomi

Kokomi was a great leader, strategist, and over-all person, never refusing someone asking her for help, no matter how much she had worked before or how tired she was. But while her kindness was noted by everyone around her and certainly helped her get the great reputation she had among the residents of Watatsumi Island, it also meant that she’d often come home without any energy.

And so, you’d take it upon yourself to at least help her with the smaller tasks so she could focus on important matters. And while that in itself already helped her immensely, there were still times there was too much work for her to finish.

When you found Kokomi passed out by her desk, pen still in hand and paper in front of her, your first reaction was to let out a small sigh. This wasn’t the first time you found her like that and very likely wouldn’t be the last, but before you could spend even more time debating how to help her, you decided to try carrying her to bed without waking her, only to take her place at the desk once you succeeded, trying to finish as much of her paperwork while she was asleep and ease her burden just a little bit. But before you got too far, you were interrupted by the sound of the door opening, causing you to glance towards it, only to be greeted by Kokomi looking at you with a tired look.

Just as the divine priestess opened her mouth to say something, you cut in, knowing too well that once she’d be able to make an argument for why she should be the one doing her work, you’d probably feel compelled to agree, and so you forced yourself to interrupt her in the most decisive tone you could muster, “Shush and go back to bed.”

Once again, she was about to respond, only for you to force yourself to repeat the process, and while you couldn’t help but feel extremely bad about it, you just wanted her to recharge her energy without worrying about work.

“Kokomi, let me finish this for you. You may overwork yourself again tomorrow, but not today, so either prepare to go and take the longest nap of your life or to call the guards, because I’m not going anywhere”, you declared, only for Kokomi to stand there in silence for a few moments before you once again glanced up to her, only to see her with a book about strategy in hand, suddenly making you realise why exactly she was here, causing your face to heat up slightly.

“That’s really nice of you and I won’t stop you, but could you maybe read me something out of this first? You don’t have to, but it would make taking a nap much easier and more enjoyable”, she asked, obviously still feeling exhausted. The last thing you could refuse was to help her, so you begrudgingly stood up before walking back to bed with her, fully intending to be by her side until she fell asleep and then returning to doing work.

By the end of the hour, both of you had long fallen asleep.

#JustASimp'sSimpingEvent #genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader #genshin x you #genshin x y/n #kokomi imagines #kokomi x y/n #kokomi x you #kokomi x reader #sangonomiya kokomi

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bloodycassian · 3 years ago

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Tender - Azriel x reader - Pregnancy fic. Fem! reader. LONG!!!

Prompt - Hi! I just read most of your imagines, and i loved them! You have me as your faithful follower, I don't comment much because English is not my first language. Could you write one where az manages to perceive that reader is pregnant right in the middle of the war?

You woke to yelling. Not screaming. Not fear or pain, but battle cries that you'd grown to love. They made your blood sing in harmony with the Illyrian voices. It made your heart hammer in your chest, and your muscles tense - ready to fight. Azriel groaned beside you, curling around your waist like a vise. You managed to break free from his muscled arms. Pale light shining through the tent tinted his shadows a light gray. They wrapped around you, drawing a chill down your spine. The war cries grew louder. "Get up. It's time." You shook him, pulling on your light armor. He covered his face with his hands, and did not leave the cot. He groaned again when you pulled the blanket off his mostly naked body. He was never a morning person. Cassian rushed in when you were putting the last of your gear on, and Az froze. His grip on his pants went white knuckled. Cassian's face was pale, and before he could say anything Azriel was hurriedly pulling on the rest of his clothes. Your stomach dropped at the sight of the Warlord. "It's a diversion." You said, voice hollow. Cassian's slight nod was enough to make the breath leave you. "It's going to be fine." Azriel grunted, pulling his tunic over his head. "We just need to move the troops. Get Rhys here." He waved a hand at his brother dismissively. Cassian grabbed Az's wrist. He forced the male to look at him, to see his worried eyes. You tensed, ready to defend your mate even against Cassian's might. "Rhys is on the battlefield already. We're on our own." His voice was low, and the warning in his eyes was enough to make the hair on your arms raise. Azriel pulled away from him, slowly. He began strapping his weapons belts on, pushed his hair back and sighed. "Where do you need us?" The air was cold, and the howls of battle echoed across the hills. Azriel's shadows curled around your legs, comforting. Then they slithered their way across the valley where the battle was beginning. + You could barely raise your sword by the end of it. The mud had been the most challenging part of the entire fight. The enemy horses had done a good job of making obstacles when they fell in the mud, lame with broken ankles and necks. You wished to put them out of their misery, but there was no time. The forces seemed to come in waves. Like a test against your small unit. Few were lost from your side. The dewey grass steamed in the morning light, carrying up the reek of enemy blood with it. You wiped your face, trying to get the taste of dirt and blood out of your mouth. Sharp stinging pain seared your ribs under your arm. You hissed. Then, you felt the warmth of your own blood. You swore, and looked for a medic that wasn't tending to wounded on the ground. Some Illyrian bodies were being lifted away, high into the air for burial at their homes. You dared not take a healer away from more critically injured soldiers. You nodded grimly to the ones that you passed. They were covered in blood, and yet still gave you fierce grins when you went by. They respected you. More than any other Illyrian Female before you. It was sad, but you hoped to forge a new path for other females of Illyria. You held an arm under your side and limped your way out of the mud. The packed mess inside your boots made moving your feet hard. You couldn't wait to shower. You spotted Cassian far down the field, and watched as he raised his sword high over his head. Your stomach twisted in pity for the suffering animal under him. You looked away before you could see the lifeblood drain from the horse's neck. He sent a blessing to the Mother for the animal, and continued on to the next suffering soul that would meet its end via his blade. + You hadn't seen her in a long while. Too long for a friend, but she gave you that same look she always did when she saw you hobbling up to her for help. Jeva was your favorite healer, and one you knew could keep a secret. She was round, and her voice was light and comforting. She smelled of nutmeg and berries. Something you had appreciated about her since you had met. "What is it this time?" She waved you inside, holding the tent flap open for you while you dumped your battle stained gear on the wood hutch beside the entrance. The tent was light and airy, filled with small plants of different varieties and cluttered with boxes and books everywhere. Her desk and bed were shoved to the corner, and a long wood table took up the majority of her area. As if she had known you were coming, she already had potions of different types laid out on the end of the table. "Probably nothing." You said, pulling off your armor as gingerly as you could manage. The soft light flickered and changed to a harsh beam when she laid you down on her exam table. "I'm not supposed to be healing anymore you know. I'm retired." She clicked her tongue at you, earning a pained grin. It was hard for you to bother a healer for any amount of time for something that you were sure was so small. But something about it stung too much for it to be just a scrape. And you knew Cassian would lecture you about it being infected if he saw through your mask to the pain. Az would force you to see one anyway as soon as he learned of it. "You know I wouldnt be here unless I had to be, Jeva." You said through your teeth as she cut away your muddied undershirt. "Oh, I know. That's why I have my best potions ready." She laughed, then paused. Your shirt lay limp on the table. Her eyebrows knitted together at the sight of your open wound. "Is it bad?" You asked, craning to try to look for yourself. She held you down. "Metal. Fragments are still in here, likely why it hasn't healed yet." You relaxed at that, grateful that it wasn't worse. "Thank the Mother. Az would have yelled all night." You rolled your eyes, and sighed as she started working on you. The first part was always the worst. The stinging hot potion that made the nerves around the wound numb. "One-" She began her countdown, then poured. You growled at her, gripping the end of the stained table hard enough to crack. "Easy..." She warned, and smoothed down your hair. She knew how to take care of her patients, that was certain. You relaxed as the stinging eased. The dull ache that it left behind turned into a bad memory. "I'm going to extract the blade then we can close you up. Simple and easy." She picked up her tools and began tugging away at your side. You could have fallen asleep with the relief the numbing potion brought. And with her humming in the air around you, it was a struggle not to. The time seemed to pass quickly, but when the clank of the metal tools jolted you from your dozing, the tent was lit in orange from the sunset outside. "Relax, we're going to close it up now. Once the potion wears off you will still be sensitive." She placed her hands over you, and the familiar warm vibrations of her healing magic set in. Then it stopped abruptly. You cracked open an eye, then narrowed your brows at her. "What is it?" You said gently, then again when she didnt reply. She stared at you, mouth agape. Her eyes locked to yours, even when you sat up to demand she tell you what the problem was. "Am I dying?!" you took her hand gently, in case she was going to push you away. Then she started laughing, her hand gripping yours back. The warmth glowed in your palm, the light radiating out from it was starkly contrasting the tent walls bedecked in orange. The light she emitted shot through you, and you felt the wound tingle, and seal. You stared at her in shock. That amount of healing power was incredible. Especially for field medics. "Youre not dying, no..." She waved a hand, fanning herself. Her eyes were glassy with tears. She sniffed and clutched your hand tighter. "Quite the opposite, darling." She pulled you in for a warm hug. + You spent the rest of the evening with Jeva. Until she got a hurried message about student healers needing help on the battlefield. You stayed in her tent as long as you could manage with the ringing in your ears. You stared and stared at the mirror across from you, showing you the bloodied warrior that you wanted to be. That you wanted to stay. The warrior that carried the Shadowsinger's child. The thought made tears sting your eyes. You refused to let them fall. You had been ignoring his tugs down the bond for well over an hour. You knew he was concerned, but you couldn't bring yourself to shout back down. The only thing that echoed in your mind were Jeva's words "You're pregnant..." Pregnant. Pregnant. Pregnant. You nearly punched her when she told you she wasn't joking. The only reason you even believed her was because of that powerful zap of healing she sent to you. That she sent to scan your body and make sure the fetus was okay before you even knew about it. You could barely hear half the words she said as she told you your options. You roiled with the thought now. The Mugwart she left on the table was daunting. You desperately wanted her back. Jeva would be able to deliberate with you. You knew she would tell you to do whatever makes you happy. You knew that. But you wondered how ethical the choice that made you happy was. Bringing a child into a world of war seemed cruel. Even if it made you happy. You distantly noticed Azriel as you passed him, walking to the forest edge just passed your tent. Worry laced the bond between you. You tried not to show anything back. But you knew he felt the tension, the void there. "Where the hell have you been?!" Azriel's eyes were furious when you passed him, his wings flared out slightly. You couldnt even look at him with anger back. Your emotions ran wild. You were frozen, and as numb as the potion Jeva had given you when she began removing the blade. "Do you know how worried I have been?! I sent Cassian to-" He tried to grab for your hand to stop you, but you flicked him away. He stopped for a moment, stunned. Then returned with more energy than before. That yawning abyss in your bond was growing darker with shame, worry and anxiety. His shadows roiled around him as he caught up. "You dont get to-" "Azriel..." You stopped in the edge of the clearing. The small meadow was silent in the darkness, not even the monsters of Prythian dared roar tonight. Your mind did all the roaring you could handle, anyway. You tried to focus on the swaying grass, on the soft smell of wet bark and pine hanging in the air. "Dont try to excuse this I need to know you're okay and-" He stormed in front of you, ready to burst with rage. His fear always made him angry. And for good reason after losing so many close to him. A tear ran down your cheek, your face burned hot with hundreds of feelings at once. Fear, pain, shock, joy, hope.... elation. You wanted his children. You wanted to help raise his child. You wanted to see Azriel be a father. You knew he would be the best damn Illyrian father there had ever been. The thought hit you like a well placed punch. He saw your paleness, your tears and stopped his yelling. You fell to your knees, the mud splattering all around you. You wanted to lay down. Lay down and think about the implications of carrying his child. Would it be good for the baby to be born at all? Just because you wanted it didnt mean it needed to happen. You knew that Jeva would give you a potion to extract it without hesitation if it was what you wished. "I'm-" You choked out, fighting the panic that flooded you. Your mind roiled with the conflict of your mind and heart. It turned you into a muddied, dark ocean on the bond. A turmoil that he couldn't see past. If you were an ocean, he was your lighthouse on the cliffside. Signaling you home. His eyes darted to your body, to your hands and how they wrung together in front of you. "I'm sorry. I just-" He sighed and took one of your hands. "I'm sorry." He kissed the back of it and brought his forehead to yours. He normally needed a lot longer to cool down after a fight, but seeing you in tears shocked him out of his pride. "I shouldn't have said that... I know you can take care of yourself." his voice was low, and he ran a hand comfortingly down your back. A hysteric laugh bubbled from your throat. It sounded like a sob. You didn't know exactly which it was. He sat back and pulled you into his lap, despite the grass being dewey and damp. He rocked you there for a few seconds before you had to tell him. Before he could be too close if he didnt want you anymore. The doubt crept into your head, and the nerves ate at you. Your heart raced, you could feel it in your neck. "Azriel..stop." You pushed away from him, to catch his beautiful dark eyes. They were painted in a silver hue by the moon above. You took in his face, the curve of his cheeks and lips for possibly the last time. You had to consider the worst possible outcome. You braced yourself for the rejection, for the pain of his reaction. You knew it had to come out. You knew you had to say it now or you never would. Your stomach flipped over and over. You opened your mouth, a soft sob wracking out of you before you began. He froze. Went utterly still, his shadows even stopping for a second before whirling faster than before. Your eyes went wide. His nose flared, eyes narrowed. He held you closer, sniffing at your neck. He pulled back and his eyes were even wider than before. His mouth fell open when you nodded. "I'm-" "Youre-" his face went through a whirlwind of different emotion. Then, he broke out into a small laugh. He couldn't stop. You felt the tears running down your cheeks and didnt bother to wipe them away. "Honey... I'm sorry." He stopped laughing suddenly. "What do you want to do?" His eyes were masked, his expression the most serious you'd ever seen him. His aura on your bond seemed to go completely gray and still, as if he didn't want you to see him. He masked everything. In preparation for whatever you decide. The gesture made your heart squeeze in appreciation. You stammered, resting your forehead on his. "I dont know." You muttered, voice cracking. Then, he was wrapping his arms around you in a smothering hug. When he pulled away, he cradled your face in his hands. The hands that had seen so much cruelty in his life. The possibilities of the same thing happening to your child made your heart race. "I'm here for whatever decision you make." He brushed your cheek with a thumb. You nodded and let him hold you like that for a while. Quietly rocking back and forth with you in his lap. + You were near falling asleep when the war cries rang out again. Illyrians howling for their leaders to join them. Another onslaught of death coming their way. The calls were distant, but Azriel tensed the second he heard them. Your blood went cold. He buried his face to your chest, as if he wished he could hide there. "I'm not going." He said when you tried pushing him away. "I wont leave you." He promised, locking his muscled forearms around you. The echoes of battle cries faded. He stroked your hair, and traced his fingers along your back. Then he swore. "Let me take care of this." He said, voice edged with anger. Nerves pricked at your stomach, but you stood, wobbling on your feet slightly. He took off into the night sky painted in silvers and blues by the full moon. Then came racing back down right behind Rhys. the high lord took one breath and then he was hugging his brother. Azriel shoved him off, and they shot into the night sky. Well, Azriel did. He dragged Rhys with him. Grunts of pain and fleshy sounds of punching rang out. You followed them high into the air where they had their conversation. Your wings led you around them with ease. "Stop fighting and use your words, boys." You warned. You recognized Azriels growl and smiled to yourself as they broke apart. Rhys adjusted his tunic and cleared his throat. "I need you there. Cassian is handling the Western front, the others need a leader." Azriel began protesting against the high lord. "I cant with my mate-" "I know it feels impossible right now but-" "I will not, Rhys-" You set your jaw. If they wanted to fight over if you needed protection or not, you would take the option off the table all together. "I'll go." you said, voice strong since hearing Jeva announce what grew inside you. Pregnant, pregnant, pregnant. You shoved the thoughts away as far as you could. They both turned to you, horror striking Azriels features. "Absolutely not. No." Heat and rage flared down the bond. It made you want to defy everything he said. You locked eyes with him and glared. Rhys glanced between you with tense shoulders. He cleared his throat. "It would be a good compromise, Azriel. You can go together to the Eastern front. Think about it." He placed a hand on his brother's shoulder and gave him a grim smile. "I wont say a word." He said, summoning the darkness around him then winnowing away. Azriel's cold eyes made him look like a statue. "Let's go." He said, and started circling lower. Back to the meadow. "I'm going, you cant stop me from following you." You said, expecting a fight. He said nothing. You were met with that silence that drove others crazy tryin to find out what he wanted from them. The bond seemed to snap taut, then go into a relaxed state. He was hiding. You knew it, but would rather have silence and peace than him trying to fight you again. He walked you back to the tent, and exhaustion took you under before you could remember him laying down with you. You hoped it it was exhaustion, and not whatever the baby was doing to you. Despite your best efforts, you couldn't resist the urge to cradle your belly while you slept. There was no bump, but it felt like the most natural thing to do now that you were aware of the being inside you. You slept hard, and awoke to the breakfast bell chiming. The sounds of slow footsteps marching through the mud kept you awake. Azriel was gone, but the candle on the table was lit. A note lay there waiting for you. His messy scrawl made you smile, the familiarity of his writing reminded you of the notes he would leave you when he had to leave early for meetings with Rhys. "Back by nightfall, lover. A guard is at the tent, ask her to bring you anything you need. -A" You peeked outside the tent to see Jeva there, her long fur coat shimmering in the morning light. Her breath clouded in front of her when she gave you a soft smile. "Good morning." She pulled a muffin from her coat. "Your favorite." She winked, and you pulled her inside. She had a fire roaring by the time you finished your food. "How are you not freezing?" She complained, blowing into her hands to keep them warm. You brushed the crumbs from your shirt and really took into account the changes you'd noticed lately. How hungry you'd been, how tired after the easiest days. "Do you know... How um..." You gestured to your stomach. She gave a small smile and nodded. "Only a month or so." She said quietly. You stared at your stomach, as if waiting for something to answer you. To give some sort of affirmation that Jeva was right. She continued warming herself by the fire, and soon the tent was filled with her warm chestnut smell. Cassian entered the tent when you were starting to doze off again. The wool blanket on your lap reminded you of a time when you first met Az. Your heart squeezed at the memory of those long nights shared together by a fire. Taking your turns on watch duty. You shook yourself from the memory. Cassian froze. His face scrunched up at the sight of you. The scent, you realised. You swore to yourself, and Jeva only nodded when he looked to her. "Youre pregnant?" He asked breathlessly, and you could smell the fear and excitement coming from him. In fact, you could smell the smoked meat on his breath. And the cold air that clung to him from outside. It was refreshing, like a cool drink on a hot day amid the dry heat inside the tent. "I'm sorry, I shouldnt have.." He ran a hand through his hair, trying to remain focused. "Its okay, Cass. What's going on? Az left me this note." You handed it to him. His lips moved as he read it. He went white as bone. Your stomach dropped. + Azriel had gone in the night to take out the entire eastern flank with a small group of Illyrians. You felt your world skittering away as Cassian told you. Your vision went blurry, and tears fell, dripping on your hands that clenched the wool blanket. "He's on his way here now. He had to answer to Rhys first." Cassian waited for you to say anything. But your lips just couldnt form the words. The hurt, anger... the betrayal you felt for him going to battle without you. And defying a direct order from his high lord like a fool. "I suggest you leave before Azriel comes back. It may get messy." Jeva spoke for you, and you were grateful. You gave Cassian a nod of thanks before he turned and left. The cold wind that blew in from the door gave you goosebumps. "Take it easy, you dont want to be too stressed." Jeva handed you a mug of tea and gave you a small squeeze. You could smell Azriel before he entered. Jeva shot him a glare, but said nothing. "I'll be in my tent if you need me." She promised, gave you a look that said 'find me after' and left. Azriel took off his armor plates one by one. A bit too slowly to be considered normal. Stalling. You said nothing. You let the tension roil out of you, let it hit him down the bond. Like a wave getting ready to break. He rolled his shoulders, stretched his wings. The mask he wore cracked when he saw your fists balled in the blanket. "I couldnt risk you... or the babe." He tried to hide the fear that shone through. The fear of his mate or child being hurt in battle. He wouldnt be able to stand it. The fight was needed, anyway. He needed to get out his instincts to protect protect protect. You said nothing. You let that looming wave grow larger. He sighed, and sat at the end of the cot beside you. "I'm sorry. I needed....I needed to get my head straight. I should have told you. I'm sorry." That wave crashed, not on him though. Internally, guilt and fear melting in on yourself. "I cant lose you, we... We cant." You said through your teeth, trying to hold back the tears that begged to spill over. He tried his best to hold back his surprise. "We?" He asked, a small smile playing on his full lips. You gave him a grim smile. "If you're...ready to be a father. I like imagining you, with my child." "Our child." He said with a bubbling laugh. You laughed with him, and it turned to hysterics. He wiped tears from the corner of your eyes. "We're going to have a baby?" He cradled your face, looking into your eyes. You took one of his hands, and placed it on your flat belly. "Yes. We are." You said, voice quivering. He wrapped you into a hug, and you cried together in the cot.

#acotar #acotar fic #reader x azriel #azriel x reader #azriel

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lovelybarnes · 3 years ago

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get the girl- p. parker

pairings: peter parker x reader, mentions of ned, betty, mj, and brad warnings: unrequited love (kind of?? implied), lotsss of pining and fluff, a little long about: requested! (DF4) “you fell asleep, i couldn’t move.“ + (DF31) “maybe if you stop staring at her and actually talk to her, you might have a chance.” a/n: been wanting to write a peter parker friends to lovers for a while, so thank you so so much for requesting this. i swear i don’t usually take this long?? i got carried away and it got way longer than i expected, i hope you enjoy! thank you for requesting!

peter thinks it’s hopeless. the cliche he’s stuck in seems cruel- no matter what the movies you (and, fine, yes, him sometimes) make him watch say. nothing that happens in them ever transpires to real life; beautiful girls don’t fall in love with their nerdy best friends and guys like peter parker don’t get the girl.

it’s fun to fantasize, though. and especially fun to look at you, particularly when you’re laying on his bed, oblivious to him standing in the doorway, observing as you twist your neck to get a good look at the polaroids he hung up on his wall. a familiar smile grows on your face when your eyes scan them, flickering to the polaroid camera you got him for christmas years ago.

you move to try to get a better look at them without standing up, glancing down when you feel a sharp edge poke at your skin. he watches as your eyebrows furrow in possibly the prettiest way possible and you pull out a polaroid from under you. and oh, peter is just now realizing exactly what that photo is and why it’s on his bed instead of hanging off the empty miniature clothespin that comes from the pack you thrust at his chest when you noticed the increasing pile of pictures on his desk.

he’s moving on autopilot towards you, the foot already halfway through the door used as a stepping stone to go to your side faster. he’s with you in less than three steps, tugging on your ankle and then tackling you as sensibly as possible, laying his whole body on yours. you oof, dropping the picture, having seen it for too little to really question it, and laugh breathlessly. “pete!” you wheeze, curling your arms around his back, one of your hands absentmindedly drawing figures through his hoodie and your other one inching up to his hair, already beginning to thread through the chocolate curls. “yes?” he hums innocently, furtively grabbing the polaroid you dropped and shoving it in the pocket of his hoodie before his arms wrap around your thighs.

“i told you if you keep doing that, one day you’re gonna get hurt,” you scold, looking attentively as peter leans his head against your chest. “me?” he questions, feeling you nod under his cheek. “uh huh, you. you’ll hit your head or something. for a spider-”

“spiderman. superhero,” peter corrects, you ignore him, “you are really clumsy.” peter huffs in dissent, letting a comfortable silence blanket over the both of you for a minute before he looks up at you. “what?” you ask, a smile brimming at the edges of your words. you’re so pretty, peter wants to say, but instead, he goes with a more best-friend-friendly question, “d’you wanna watch a movie?”

you nod at him, pulling your hands away from his head to play with the strings of his hoodie, “sure, what do we want to watch today?” peter’s eyes immediately light up, and you realize you never actually needed to ask. “fine,” you agree, trying not to grin too hard at the way his face brightens. “which one?” you request, watching his freckled cheeks flush pink in excitement, “sixth one. the best one, of course.” you smirk, shrugging, “right, don’t know why i asked, i basically know the movie word for word now.” peter can’t help but give you heart eyes at the knowledge of your knowing the script of his favorite movie. god, you really were the dream girl.

“‘kay, go make some popcorn and get everything ready while i go to the bathroom,” you request, tapping peter’s shoulder as a way to tell peter to let you out from under his body weight. he does the complete opposite of what you imply, however, nuzzling further into your chest and inhaling deeply. “peter,” you laugh, poking his shoulder again, “‘m comfy,” he mumbles, eyes closed. “pete, c’mon, i gotta pee and you’re lying on my bladder,” you whine, “also, don’t you wanna watch episode six of star wars while i eat popcorn and play with your hair?” you singsong. he’s suddenly moving his body off of yours to let you go, although not before pressing a sloppy- friendly- kiss to your arm, “hurry up.”

you giggle as you stand, stretching out your limbs and walking to the bathroom while peter watches you walk away. once he hears the bathroom door shut, he digs his hands into his pockets, fingers tugging on the polaroid he had shoved inside. a smile grows on his face without his permission when he holds it at his stomach, the light reflecting off of the smile that was printed on the picture. he traces a nail over your face, bright and open in the way that makes you gleam. it’s his favorite picture ever, the only one that managed to catch you so in your element, your natural halo of glow apparent in your outline. peter had scrawled the words best girl in red marker on the white space at the bottom- something he thought he could explain away easily if he had to. the picture had its own designated space on his wall, right in the middle so the importance was clear, but it was rarely actually up there, instead always next to him for inspiration when he was doing homework and on his dresser for when he couldn't sleep.

his lips quirk one last time at the photograph before walking to the wall where all the rest of them reside. he hangs it up, glancing at it once more until he turns to walk out of his room.

the movie is ready to play when you walk into the living room, and peter is in the kitchen making your popcorn. “it smells good,” you say in a greeting, sniffing the air and exhaling in satisfaction. peter laughs, “you do that every time we have a movie night.” you tilt your head at him, “do what?” he motions to you, “that. the whole smelling thing and letting me know how good it smells, it’s cute.”

your face heats when it slips out of his lips, pausing to absorb the words he doesn’t seem to have noticed he said. his back is to you, dumping the popcorn into a bowl for you. you can’t see it, but he’s freaking out, trying to think of an excuse if you decide it was too weird. you don’t do anything to imply that, though, just blink until the words dissolve in the air. “thanks,” you finally reply, as nonchalant as you can make it while you grab his m&ms. he hums in response, turning around to head to the couch, “star wars time,” he winks, making you grin.

you follow him as he heads to the couch, settling down next to him once he puts on the movie. the star wars theme starts, the tune fringed by peter’s humming. cute, you think, snuggling deeper into the crook of his arm and shoving popcorn into your mouth. “hmm, good,” you compliment, watching the scenes you’d seen so many times pass on the screens. you mouth along when you recognize the lines until your eyes feel heavy and they shut completely.

quiet thwips wake you up hours later, when the black of the night has bled the sky blue and the stars have littered over the clouds, the moon replacing the sun. you see that the movie is long over when you blink yourself awake, beginning to cuddle deeper into your pillow when you realize it’s too warm and hard to be a pillow. you are met with the vision of your best friend, lip tugged in between his teeth as he concentrates on something behind you. he doesn’t seem to notice that you’re awake, trying to remain as still as possibly while the thwip noises continue. he mutters a curse, scrunching his nose adorably before flicking his eyes to you. they widen when he notices you’re awake, dropping his hand. “what’re you doing?” you yawn, sitting up and away from the warmth of peter’s embrace. “uh- i just- the movie ended and you didn’t wake up, so i tried to get the remote, then i got hungry…” he scratches the back of his head awkwardly, scanning the room and you turn to observe, stunned to see the mess of webs and dropped items you weren’t sure how you didn’t hear. “oh my god, what the- did you try to get everything with your webs?” you ask in bewilderment, eyeing a bag of gummy worms open and on the floor, you snap your neck towards him to observe his burning cheeks. “um. yes,” he confesses, blushing harder. “why didn’t you just get up?” you question, looking back at the ruined living room, exhaling in surprise as you notice the remote on the ground.

“you... you fell asleep on me. i couldn’t move.”

you pause, tilting your head slightly to look at peter, “pete, god, that’s so sweet. but you really don’t need to…” you motion to the dropped items, “do all that,” you laugh. peter shrugs, and you notice the tips of his ears are red, too. “i didn’t want to wake you up. i know how much of a light sleeper you are.”

you feel like you’re melting, every single muscle in your body drooping in the loveliness that was peter parker. you weren’t sure how the boy was real. you suddenly drop yourself on him again, wrapping your arms around his burning neck, “thank you, peter,” you say into his skin. like a reflex, his own arms go around your waist, holding you securely so you won’t fall, “‘f course.”

a moment of quiet follows until peter’s stomach rumbles suddenly, making you laugh, “i think i’ve starved you long enough. you pick today. also, when did you get so ripped? your arms are so big--” peter cuts you off with a groan, dropping his head on your shoulder, “you had to ruin the moment--”

peter doesn’t know what it is with you (actually, he does) that makes you so distracting. you’re just waiting in line for lunch, standing next to mj and laughing occasionally when she says something. all you’re doing is standing, and maybe it’s peter’s boy-hormones combined with his spider-hormones that magnify every single perfect feature of yours, but he can’t take his eyes off of you. you’re so pretty. the curve of the smiles that pulls into your cheeks, the twinkle that remains permanent in the color of your eyes, the way you look in that skirt--

“maybe if you stop staring at her and actually talk to her, you might have a chance,” a voice points out from next to him. peter scoffs, ripping his sight away from you to turn to ned. “i talk to her all the time. she’s my best friend.” ned shakes his head and sighs, “you talk to her about star wars, you talk to me about star wars, how is that supposed to help you have a chance--”

“i have a chance,” peter mumbles, trying to believe it himself, “she knows that she and you stand at different levels of best friends--” ned looks offended, “different levels? what is that supposed to mean--” peter stares exasperatedly at his best friend, “it means i want to date her and i don’t want to date you--”

“that’s a little rude--”

“hey you guys,” you greet, sitting down on the seat in front of peter’s and patting the seat next to you for mj. she stares at you silently, and you frown, patting the seat harder, “sit.” you instruct. she sighs and does what she’s told. “what were you guys talking about?” you ask, picking up your small plate of cherry pie to replace the bowl of orange slices that you took from peter’s plate. “thank you,” peter mumbles, digging his fork into the pie the moment you set it down. you hum, stealing a cherry tomato from his salad.

“oh, you know. the usual, your friendship with peter,” the latter shoots him a look and you raise an eyebrow, “that’s the usual? a little strange, don’t you think?” ned shrugs, “did you know that you and i stand at ‘different levels’ as peter’s best friends?” peter nearly chokes on his pie, glaring at ned. you cock your head at peter, thinking as you steal another tomato, “i… guess i thought so? i’ve known peter since, like, preschool, and we tell each other everything.”

“everything, huh?” ned wonders, a sound of pain falling from his lips when peter kicks him under the table. “peter.” he hisses. mj narrows her eyes at the two boys, “what is going on with you guys today? you’re acting weirder than normal.” peter’s face screws up in confusion, looking to you for help. you shrug, “she’s right.”

“i usually am,” mj mutters.

“so what is it?” you query, popping an orange slice as peter cringes at the mere thought of the taste. “peter has a crush,” ned informs helpfully, oblivious to peter’s dismay, “i- i don’t-”

you blink, feeling mj’s elbow shove into your ribs as her own way to make sure you’re okay. you ignore her, and it tells her everything she needs to know. “it’s liz, right?” you guess, trying to mask the hurt on your face with a teasing smile, “i saw you looking at her the other day. she’s pretty.” “no! it’s not- i mean, yes, liz is pretty, but i don’t like her or anything- ned doesn’t know what he’s talking about,” peter rambles. “pete, you don’t have to be embarrassed, i’m just upset you didn’t tell me,” you lie. peter’s eyebrows furrow, “you’re just upset that… i didn’t tell you?” he repeats. you nod, biting into another orange slice. “just that?” he asks meekly. you cock your head at him.

“i just- never mind. it’s not liz,” he says, poking at his pie. “so you admit you have a crush?” you start with a fake smirk, jabbing at your best friend with your fork, “just not on liz?”

“i didn’t… i didn’t say that-” peter stutters. your eyes narrow at him, lip tugged between your teeth, “i’m gonna find out who it is by the end of the day.”

peter is unfortunately sure you will. he’s not subtle as is, but you’re never deliberately looking for the signs, which makes it a lot easier to hide his embarrassingly large crush on you. but now, you'll be paying attention to his every move, and knowing you, he knows you won’t stop until you find out what you want, unless he tells you to back off. but, does he want you to back off?

he pushes his tray away, suddenly not feeling so hungry.

you stay true to your promise, hanging off his arm for the rest of the day, observing the way he acts around some of your classmates, but somehow not noticing the way he blatantly refuses to look at you- which proves humiliatingly difficult; peter never realized exactly how much he turned to look if you laughed at the joke too, or to catch one of your smiles when you hear something funny or peter whispers a joke into the shell of your ear.

by the end of the day when you’re walking to the train station together, you’re groaning at him, putting your full weight on his arm as you tug at him. “who is it? is it betty? oh my god, is it mj? is that why you kept looking at her?” you ask excitedly. peter wants to tell you the truth: he wasn’t looking at mj, he was looking at you, because as much as he tried, he couldn’t pry his attention off of you, who just so happened to sit next to mj.

“not mj. not betty,” he replies, pulling you inside the subway and scanning for free seats. you trail behind him when he finds a spot, letting you take it as he stands in front of you. “not them… it has to be liz, right?” you pry, sighing when he shakes his head. “brad- it’s brad, right?” you grin, whining when he denies it again. “can you just tell me if i got them already? i’ve practically said everyone in the school,” you complain, “they do go to school with us, right?” at peter’s nod, you drop your head against his abdomen, “and you have not said their name yet.”

“peter,” you drag out, reaching out for his hand to pull it, “just tell me! i can probably set you up with them!”

“y/n, just drop it,” he sighs, and you sigh too, mumbling a fine before noticing an older lady standing at the door. you wave her over, standing next to peter and letting her take your seat. peter feels like his heart will pop out of his chest.

the bumps of the subway push you close enough to him to feel the thundering of his heart, and your eyebrows knit together in worry, “are you okay? your heart’s beating, like, really fast-” yeah and your hand on my chest is not helping- “‘m fine.”

“is it because of the crush thing?” yes, “because i’m sorry about annoying you about it so much, if you don’t want to talk about it, i won’t bother you with it. just know that if they don’t like you back, they’re insane, because you, peter parker, are a ca-”

it was like a rubber band snapping, and peter suddenly couldn’t help it anymore, pushing his lips against yours, effectively cutting you off and catching you so off-guard, you freeze for a second before reacting, pulling his jaw closer. you almost tug him back when he pulls away, before you remember you’re still standing on a crowded, moving subway, and while kissing your best friend had been all you wanted for way too long, you were absolutely going to miss your stop if you didn’t stop.

“i- i’m sorry, i just-” peter stammered, stepping back. “no! so, please don’t apologize, seriously, it’s fine, it’s, like, better than fine.”

a beat of awkward silence passed before the tube halted to the stop right before yours. “it’s you. in case that didn’t… come clear. you’re the person i like,” peter informs quietly. “really?” you ask, cheek already pulling in a shy smile. “really,” peter assures.

this time, you don’t really care if you miss your stop, and neither does peter, now that he knows that, sometimes, peter parker does get the girl.

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sassyhobbits · 3 years ago

Note

rowaelin with their first child and they get into that stranger anxiety phase and cry with everyone except when they're in their mothers arms and it's exhausting but also adorable but rowan sometimes feels like a bad dad because his kid doesn't want to be held by him so aelin has to reassure him and then some day this phase is finally over - prompt 😢🥺

ok i adored writing this one. dad rowan is so much fun to work with. i hope everyone enjoys!!

~~~

In his over 300 years, Rowan Whitethorn Galathynius had been awoken by many different things. Whether it was a call to battle while sleeping in a war tent, a summons from his queen late at night, or a lover trying unsuccessfully to disappear quietly before dawn. Yet, none of these manners of waking up had filled him with as much dread as he felt currently.

He was woken in the middle of the night by a shrill shriek coming from the room that adjoined the one he shared with Aelin. In the recent months, what had once been a leisure room had been converted to a nursery for their new baby girl.

It took three years after Aelin’s coronation before they decided to start trying to have a child. It took another year before they were successful. Rowan counted his blessings. He had seen plenty of Fae couples take decades before they finally conceived.

Eliora was four months old now, which meant four months of troubled sleep for both him and his mate.

Rowan was instantly on alert at the sound of his daughter’s cries. He knew that they were no more than a normal babe’s troubles, but his instincts made him tense anyways. He quickly sat up, looking down at his wife quickly to see if she had woken up. Luckily, she still slept, likely beyond exhausted from the mix of raising a child and ruling a kingdom. If Rowan was successful, she wouldn’t have to wake up at all.

He got out of bed and swiftly stepped into the nursery, coming before Eliora’s crib. Her tiny face was pinched up in dainty outrage, small limbs flailing as she cried. Rowan took a deep breath, sending a prayer up to the gods more out of habit than faith at this point, and picked his daughter from the crib. Hopefully, this would be the time he could get her to stop crying.

The little princess shrieked and protested whenever she was in anyone’s arms besides her mother’s. Rowan’s included.

“I’ve got you, my little light,” Rowan whispered to his daughter, cradling her tiny body to his bare chest and lowering himself onto the rocking chair they kept beside her crib. “Everything’s alright.”

Despite his soothing words, Eliora still continued to cry. It broke Rowan’s heart to hear, broke it even more to know that nothing he did could seem to calm her down.

“Please stop crying, love,” Rowan pleaded, threading his fingers through the fine, silvery-blonde hair growing on his daughter’s head. “Your mother is so tired and needs her sleep.”

Unfortunately, even begging didn’t seem to work.

Over the sounds of Eliora’s cries, he heard the door hinges creek, and the sound of bare feet scuffing over stone. Rowan glanced over, finding Aelin walking towards him. Exhaustion weighed down her beautiful face, but her eyes were still full of fondness at the sight of the two of them.

Rowan looked to her apologetically before his face crumpled in defeat. “I can’t get her to stop crying. I’m so sorry, Fireheart.”

“You have nothing to be sorry for, love,” she whispered, leaning down and pressing a kiss to his hair. “Give her to me.”

Rowan handed the squirming bundle of blankets to his wife. Aelin situated their daughter in her arms before she lowered herself on Rowan’s lap, allowing him to wrap his arms around her waist, press a kiss to her shoulder, and begin to rock them.

Quickly, Eliora’s cries began to fade away. Her face unscrewed, looking at Aelin with those wide, Ashryver eyes that she had.

Aelin began to sing a low, Terrasenian lullaby as he continued to rock the three of them. It never ceased to amaze him how good she was with their daughter, how quickly she was able to sooth her temper. He only wished that he could do the same, that Eliora would look at him the same way she looked at Aelin and not scream and scream and scream.

Rowan’s heart was full of love as he watched Eliora’s eyes begin to droop shut at the soothing rocking motion and the sound of her mother’s voice. It wasn’t long before she was once again asleep, the night perfectly silent.

Rowan helped Aelin stand, keeping a hand against her back as she brought their daughter back to her crib and laid her down. Perfect. She truly was perfect.

A gentle hand on his arm drew his attention away from the slumbering babe. Aelin nodded her head towards their room and Rowan dutifully followed, shutting the door quietly behind them.

“I’m sorry, Fireheart,” Rowan said again, drawing Aelin into his arms and kissing her forehead. “I know you’re exhausted.”

“No more so than you.”

Rowan could only sigh, pressing his lips together tightly. His emotions were troubled, and he should have known that Aelin was going to notice. She leaned back slightly, peering up at his face.

“I know what you’re thinking, Rowan, and you’re wrong,” she said matter-of-factly.

Rowan wanted to believe her, but he couldn’t help but ask, “What am I doing wrong?”

He had faced many challenges over his years. Wars and battles and tortures. He had survived them all and came out victorious. And yet, the thing that brought him to his knees, was the fact that he couldn’t bring comfort to his own daughter when she needed it. A baby had finally defeated him.

“You know you’re not doing anything wrong,” Aelin said firmly. “The nurses said this happens sometimes. It’s not your fault.”

Rowan had heard this what felt like a thousand times. It did little to soothe his troubles.

Rowan was good at many things. He was a warrior and a general, had stepped confidently into the role of king consort. His hands could kill and heal and build, but they couldn’t get Eliora to stop crying. He couldn’t help but feel that, perhaps, being a father… wasn’t something that he was made for.

It broke his heart to think. He remembered how excited he was when they found out Aelin was finally pregnant, how they cried and kissed and clung to each other, whispering about the future. He had been ecstatic, but also terrified. He knew Aedion, who had welcomed his own son into the world a year before Aelin got pregnant, had felt the same before he was born. But, Aedion hadn’t had the troubles Rowan did. He had stepped into fatherhood gracefully, and his son loved him immensely.

“Hey,” Aelin said, a bit snappily. She put her hand on Rowan’s cheek and urged him to look at her. In those eyes was a familiar fire. “Stop that. I know what’s going through your head. You’re a wonderful father.”

Rowan sighed and hung his head, pressing Aelin’s hand more firmly against his cheek. “How can I be a good father if I have no idea what I’m doing?”

“Do you think I’m a bad mother?”

“What? Of course not.”

“Well, I don’t know what I’m doing either,” Aelin said. “Neither did Aedion or Lysandra. No new parent has any idea what they’re doing. It’s part of the job.”

She made it sound so easy. Aelin had always had a knack for that.

“I wonder if there’s some secret behind it,” Rowan mused as Aelin tucked herself back into his chest and wrapped her arms around his torso.

He felt his wife shrug. “I don’t know… but if there was, I think it would be to love them. To support them. To do everything in our power to make sure they’re happy.”

“I love Eliora more than life. There’s nothing I wouldn’t do for her.”

“I know, love.” Aelin rolled on the tips of her toes and brushed a soft kiss against Rowan’s mouth. “Now, all you need to do is have patience.”

He chuckled. “Look at you. Who would have ever guessed that Aelin Galathynius would be lecturing me on patience.”

Her grin was a slash of white in the dark. “I’ve been told I’m wise beyond my years.”

“Who the hell has ever told you that?”

“People. Now, will you come back to bed with me?”

“Of course, Fireheart.”

They climbed back under the covers, pressing their bodies close. Aelin fell back asleep almost comically quickly. Rowan wasn’t far behind, holding his wife tightly throughout the night.

…

Another month went by and little changed. Both Rowan and his wife were getting little sleep during the night, leading to some groggy mornings. He had seen Aelin taking short naps at her desk or dozing off when an advisor spoke for too long. She would, of course, deny it if Rowan ever brought it up, so he wisely stayed silent.

Eliora still abhorred being held by anyone except Aelin. The fact that it wasn’t just him brought Rowan a bit of solace. His daughter cried when held by Lysandra or Fenrys or Elide. She had a particularly nasty meltdown last time Lorcan had held her.

“I know, sweet girl,” Aelin had murmured, taking Eliora from Lorcan. “I wouldn’t want to be that close to him either.”

Still, Eliora’s reactions didn’t deter Rowan from trying to hold and soothe her, though he had not yet been victorious. Patience, Aelin had said. It was easier said than done.

The sun had set below the Staghorns hours ago. Eliora was asleep in the nursery, Aelin was treating herself to a long soak in the tub, and Rowan sat in one of the plush armchairs they kept in their room, sharpening and polishing some of his blades.

It was an easy practice to get lost in. The simple, repetitive movements were a welcome distraction. A good way to cool down before bed.

However, his hands froze when he heard a tiny whimper sound from the nursery that quickly morphed into a shrill cry. Eliora.

Rowan placed his blades down on the low table before him, pushing to his feet and quickly striding into the nursery.

Eliora was wiggling as she wailed. Rowan wished he could read her mind so he knew exactly what was bothering her and how he could help. But, all he could do was take a deep, bracing breath and scoop his daughter into his arms.

“What’s wrong, little light?” Rowan whispered, carrying her over to the rocking chair. “What is it?”

Eliora’s only response was to continue crying.

Rowan sighed, wondering how much longer he had before Aelin got out of the bath and came in to calm Eliora down. He had seen Aelin do it countless times. She would take Eliora into her arms, smile down at her, start to whisper nonsense or sing a low lullaby. She made it seem so easy.

“Everything’s alright, Eliora,” Rowan murmured, switching to the Old Language. “I’ve got you. I’ll never let anything happen to you, little love.”

And then, something amazing happened.

Slowly, Eliora’s cries began to fade away to a whimper and then, to nothing at all. Rowan held his breath, worrying that one wrong move would put her back into a fit of hysterics. His daughter slowly opened her eyes and peered up at him.

Rowan smiled down at her. “You’re just as lovely as your mother. Just as stubborn, too.”

And then, as if she understood his little joke, Eliora flashed him a gummy smile. The shift in expression floored him. She had never given him a smile before.

Rowan felt his throat tighten and his eyes begin to burn, but he smiled back at the tears welled up. A tiny laugh escaped his throat. Finally, finally, he had done it.

Eliora’s chubby arms reached up. Rowan held out a finger, letting her wrap a tiny hand around it. He always forgot just how small she was.

“I love you more than you could possibly know, Eliora.”

He was too distracted by his daughter and the little grip she had on his finger to notice that Aelin had entered the nursery until she was almost upon them. Rowan looked up at his wife, knowing that his eyes were still watery and there were likely tear tracks streaking down his cheeks. Regardless, he beamed.

“It would seem, once again, that I was right,” Aelin said with a triumphant smirk.

“As you often are, my love.”

She laughed and dropped a kiss to his forehead before draping her arms over his shoulders, leaning over and watching their daughter, who was studying them with wide eyes. Once again, Eliora smiled. Rowan would never tire of the sight.

“She looks like you when she smiles,” Aelin mused.

“You think?”

She nodded slowly, reaching out and running her knuckles along the smooth curve of Eliora’s cheek. “I still can’t believe she’s ours. She’s just so… perfect.”

“Like her mother.”

Aelin snorted. “Kiss ass.”

“Maybe a little.”

They faded into silence, simply standing there, wrapped up in their little, blossoming family. They stood there until Eliora’s eyes fluttered shut once more and she drifted off into a peaceful sleep. One she enjoyed for the entirety of the night.

Rowan didn’t know what he had done to deserve such bliss, but he knew it must have been something good.

#every time i write a baby fic im like #is it obvious that i know next to nothing about babies #rowaelin #my writing #tog

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outerbankies · 3 years ago

Text

new light part 4: underneath the moonlight — rafe cameron

new light series masterlist

summary: you and rafe meet the parents (properly) and go to midsummers together, but not everyone is as smitten with your relationship as you two are.

pairing: rafe x kook reader

warnings: drinking, swearing

a/n: say hello to a few characters (tw: ward) i have had yet to feature thus far 🤗 more of y/n being besties with kelce (and topper this time—our fave obx himbo) there’s a lil drama in this part y’all... into the thick of it. thanks for all the feedback 💖not canon rafe

my writing

yeah if you give me just one night, to meet you underneath the moonlight

You’re startled awake by a loud knock on your bedroom door. You’re squished between 6 feet and 3 inches worth of boy and the pink wall your bed is pushed up against. Rafe always insisted on laying on your outer side, closest to the door of your bedroom. Which means you often woke up pressed into the wall, your neck sometimes aching from the awkward angle. Not to mention Wilbur always taking up the space at your feet, Rafe usually nudging him into your space so he could stretch out.

Rafe stirs also, making sleepy noises and stretching his legs where they hang off the end of your bed. He grumbles and smacks his lips together a few times, your hand instinctively coming to rub along his jaw. His eyes flutter open as the sun streams in through your window, illuminating the hint of golden stubble on his chin. You’d only slept over together a few times, since you were both staying with your parents for the summer, so it’s always nice to wake up with your boy in your bed.

Oh fuck. Your boy is in your bed.

Rafe's eyes widen at the same time as yours.

“Oh shit, we fell asleep?” he whispers, head whipping around your room.

“Fuck, you have to hide right now,” you whisper, stumbling through your thoughts sleepily.

Another knock sounds from the door.

You extract yourself from your spot between Rafe and the wall, his hands guiding you by your hips as you tumble over him.

“Just, fuck, just like—get under the covers or something. God, I hope it’s not my dad,” you whisper.

“Me too,” he says, slinking into the gap between your bed and the wall as best he can, covering his face with a pillow.

You check that he’s concealed enough, turning to open the door just the slightest bit. Dylan stands in the crack.

“We have brunch at the Club in an hour, mom wanted me to ask if you invited Rafe,” he peers around you, gaze moving to behind your shoulder. “Or I could just ask him myself. Sup, Rafe?”

“Shut the fuck up, Dyl,” you whisper-shout. “Where are mom and dad? Can he sneak out the back? And don’t lie to me, or I’ll tell them about Hilton Head.”

“God, calm down. Dad’s in the garage and mom’s getting ready. Just have him go now.”

“Thanks,” you say, all but slamming the door in his face. You turn around and press your back against the door, letting out a shaky breath.

The covers rustle, and Rafe springs out of your bed to gather his things while Wilbur watches him. He always starts pouting when he notices that Rafe is putting on his hat or shoes, signs that he’s about to leave.

“We are so dead.”

“You don’t think he’ll say anything, do you? I don’t think I can sit at brunch with your dad in an hour if he knows I slept in your bed last night.”

“Not if he’s smart,” you sigh. “Want me to walk you out?”

“No, I got it. Just keep Willy in here. I’ll text you when I make it out alive. If you don’t hear from me, just assume your father murdered me,” he jokes, leaning down to give you a kiss after he slips his shoes on. “See you back here in an hour?”

“Yes, please be early. And clean shaven.”

“Yes ma’am. And don’t insult me,” he mumbles against your lips.

“Nervous?”

“Not nearly as nervous as I will be if I get caught, sweetheart. Gotta go so I have time to shower—and shave. See you in a bit.”

He gives you one last kiss before he departs, and you move to the window with Wilbur to watch him slink across the backyard, arms crossed and a fond grin on your face. He turns and blows you one last kiss before he disappears around the side of your house.

—

“Y/n, can I speak to you for a second?”

Your dad’s voice comes from his study as you pass by, checking yourself over in the entryway mirror one more time. Rafe should be here any minute.

“Yeah, what’s up?”

“Come sit,” he says, gesturing to one of the chairs in front of his desk. You feel the hair stand up on the back of your neck. Your dad only invited you to talk in his study if it was something serious. The last time he did was when he told you he was going to take away your Range Rover if you didn’t pull your Bs up to As your freshman year of college. You’ve had a 4.0 ever since.

“Is everything alright?”

“Yes, everything’s fine. Just wanted to talk about the new boyfriend.”

“What about him?”

“I always knew of him while the two of you were growing up. But I talked to him a bit back during Dylan’s grad week.”

As an unruly teenager and the rightful heir to his father's business, everyone in the Outer Banks knew about Rafe and his antics. Good or bad. You could even recall your mom gossiping to your dad, words passed on from Rose, about some of his more... notable incidences.

“Y-yeah, he's...” you trail off, searching for the right words to describe Rafe these days.

“Seems like a good kid,” your dad supplies.

“What did you guys talk about?”

“Business, mostly. His future and whatnot.”

“Is that what you wanted to talk to me about?”

“No, I just wonder... are you sure about this one? When you were kids, that boy was always causing trouble. And you know your mother and I were always so proud of how you stayed in line.”

“I know,” you sigh. “But Rafe’s not a boy anymore. Just give him a chance.”

“I will,” your dad says, slapping his knees to stand up. “But I'm also gonna give him a hard time.”

“Dad, please.”

“It’s my job. Your mom gets to freak out about Dylan moving out, and I get to handle scaring every man who gets to look at you.”

The doorbell rings.

“Please. I am literally begging.”

Your dad draws a fake halo around his head, and you just roll your eyes.

The morning gets off to an even more embarrassing start as soon as Rafe crosses the threshold into your house. Wilbur jumps into his arms immediately, all ninety pounds of him, and your mom’s eyes widen.

“My goodness, he’s usually so hesitant around strangers!”

Dylan chokes on a laugh, and if you weren’t across the room you’d have elbowed him in the ribs.

“Oh, I’ve walked Wilbur by Tanneyhill before.”

“Yeah, I-I love Willy. Mrs. Y/l/n, it’s so nice to see you again,” Rafe says, effortlessly following your lead after Wilbur scampers out of his hold. He shakes your mom’s hand politely. Your dad sidles up to her then, fixing Rafe with a stare harder than you’d prefer. “Mr. Y/l/n, you as well. Thanks again, to both of you, for inviting me.”

“Good to see you, Rafe,” your dad says, a strong hand clamping onto his shoulder. “Dylan, come say hi.”

Dylan’s grin is devilish, and you're just watching on in pure horror at this point. “How have you been, Rafe? Haven’t seen you in a while.”

—

Rafe’s grinning ear to ear, hand firm on your thigh, all of the windows in his truck rolled down. He even popped the sun roof, letting you blast your playlist all the way down the road.

“Okay—I just... did that go well?”

“You did great, Rafe.”

Despite Dylan's best efforts to embarrass you two, brunch had gone really well. Your dad took a second to let his guard down, unlike your mother who was immediately gushing over him. You could practically see the wheels in her head turning, the wedding colors she'd picked for you. And your dad came around quick enough once Rafe brought up Formula 1.

Your boyfriend looks so relieved, hand even coming to feel the air pass through his fingers as he hangs his arm out the window, hand on your thigh coming back up to steady the wheel. He taps on it excitedly.

“Lowkey, feel like I nailed it, baby.”

“Okay,” you giggle, leaning over to peck his check. You pull him in with a soft hand to the other side of his face. “Let’s not get too big for our britches.”

“Oh, I’m a parent-meeting expert now. Might go into consulting.”

“You’ve perfected the sport?” you joke.

“No, no. That’s—I’ve never actually met parents before,” he admits.

“No way?”

“Way? Have you?” he asks, slight edge seeping into his tone as he pulls up to the stoplight outside of your favorite coffee spot.

“Uh... once. We weren’t even really dating yet, but they came to visit and he like, ambushed me with them at dinner. They were kinda hippies, though.”

“Yeah?” His tone is clipped as he parks his truck.

“Yeah, some guy from my comparative literature class sophomore year,” you sigh. “But, you’re the first to meet my parents.”

“Mm,” he hums, fingers tapping on your knee. That satisfies him. He gathers one of your hands in his. “You coming in?”

“Will you just get me a latte? Kinda wanna call my mom and debrief.”

He laughs, kissing your knuckles. “I’ll give you a minute, sweetheart. Oat milk?”

—

Your original plans to meet the Camerons fell through, a last minute staging emergency arising when you were all supposed to go for dinner. You’d tried not to look down while Rafe attempted in earnest to cheer you up, telling you how pretty you looked while you took out your earrings and let your hair down. He'd kissed the crown of your hair and apologized profusely, promising they would love you when they finally got to meet you.

“M’not upset.”

“Okay.” His hand stroked your back through the thick cotton of one of his old water polo sweatshirts he’d let you borrow for the night.

“I’m just really nervous about meeting them. You might’ve set the bar a little too high with my parents.”

“You just have a great family.”

“I don’t know,” you said when you finally cracked a smile. “Made it pretty far on your first try.”

“Don’t worry. They’re going to love you, sweetheart.”

You let him kiss your cheek, your forehead, your nose and chin.

“Hope so.”

“Know so.”

And Rafe had somehow convinced your father to let you go to Midsummers with his family, promising to join up for pictures and greetings later. Your dad had willingly let him, to your surprise.

The event was a big deal to Figure 8 patriarchs and matriarchs alike, always trying to outdo the other in every way, all while feigning some sense of island camaraderie. But when Rafe had set aside time at brunch to specifically ask your family for their permission to accompany you to the event, they’d been hard pressed to say no. Your family immediately accepted Rafe as your boyfriend, any lingering hesitations about his character drowned out by the equal chances of your personal happiness and the heightening of their social and business profiles.

But he’d still come to your house to pick you up, ready to greet your parents in the foyer once again.

He takes one look at you in that blush pink dress, hair, makeup and jewelry all done up this time around, daisy flower crown in place, and flicks his eyes around his surroundings. Your father and Dylan were nowhere in sight, and your mother was busy fixing her earrings in the hall. He takes to your side immediately, a kiss to the side of your head followed by his lips pressing against your ear. “I’m fucking obsessed with you.”

With the high from those words, you ride in his truck to Midsummers, nerves never dissipating no matter how many reassurances he speaks across the summer air streaming in through the vehicle. “Remember, they’re gonna love you.”

He helps you down from his truck so you can focus on keeping your dress off the ground, assuring you for the fiftieth time that Rose is going to like your headpiece.

“Miss Y/l/n, how lovely to see you again you at last,” Ward sighs, sounding somewhat fond. “Rafe’s been talking my ear off about this, meeting you again even though we’ve already met. Sorry we couldn’t make it work earlier.”

“No worries, Mr. Cameron. Thank you so much for inviting me to tag along with your family at Midsummers. You as well, Mrs. Cameron. You look beautiful.”

“Thank you! And of course,” Rose says, bringing you in for a hug, one you definitely were not expecting.“You’re out in California, aren’t you?”

“Yes, home for the summer.”

“That’s a long way from here,” Ward says. His eyes flicker to Rafe. “Long way from Georgia. Shorter, but still a long way.”

“Dad, c’mon,” Rafe cuts in, and you can feel his hand gripping the back of your dress:

“He’s just stating the obvious, Rafe,” Rose intervenes.

“Yeah, it is far,” you agree. Rafe’s head whips around back to you.

“We’re figuring it out,” he says. To anyone else in the vicinity, he probably sounds confident and self assured. But you know Rafe, and you can look into his eyes and see that he’s not. That if he weren’t in front of his entire family, trying earnestly to impress his father, he’d have said: ‘we’re gonna figure it out, right?’

“I’m sure things will work out the way they’re meant to,” Ward says after a lapse in conversation. “One way or another.”

“Let’s get some photos so we can all enter and the two of you can run off,” Rose says immediately after, giving neither of you the time to say anything else.

You do your best to shake off Ward’s comment as the four of you join up with the Cameron daughters, plus Sarah’s boyfriend, John B. After posing for what felt like hours, the photographer asks you and John B to hop out so they can take some family pictures, the two of you swiping up a couple of Old Fashioneds from the bar. You have to assure Rafe twice that you’ll be okay for ten minutes on your own.

“First time meeting Ward?” Sarah’s boyfriend asks, leaned up against the bar like he owns the place.

“Er—of course not,” you say, like it’s obvious. But of course John B knew nothing about Figure 8 social circles. “Just the first time as Rafe’s girlfriend.”

“Yeah, you look nervous,” he admits, chuckling when your mouth drops open. “It’s not too obvious, I just know because—been in your shoes.”

You should be insulted that the teenager compares his and Sarah’s relationship with yours and Rafe’s, but you know he isn’t being malicious. You see nothing but kindness in his eyes. And it’s nice to have somewhat of a teammate in this situation, the two of you standing by while one of the most powerful families in Kildare poses together in their finest outfits.

Rafe looks hot in his grey suit, especially with the pocket square he’d agonized over for weeks before you gifted him one that was hand sewn from the extra material where your dress had been hemmed. Monogrammed, of course.

You’d decided to go with his initials, since it was going to him after all. But your stomach gets fluttery if you think about the expression on his face when he’d received it, telling you that you should’ve put yours on it instead. “That way everyone will know I’m yours.”

Turning back to John B, you can’t imagine how he must have felt the first time he was invited into all of this. It intimidated even you, and you’re pretty sure John B was friends with the boy who delivered your family’s groceries every week.

“Any tips?”

“You’re way better off than I was, first of all,” he laughs. “But he’s really only scary when it’s one-on-one. He cares too much about this appearance of a perfect family to make digs in front of an audience.”

You nod. “That’s actually really good advice, John B.”

“Don’t sound so surprised, kook.” He clinks his glass against yours, promptly throwing the entire drink back as you watch and laugh. “That’s another tip. Drink whenever you can.”

“I’m familiar with that one.”

It's intimidating entering the event, a little after everyone else has arrived. Rafe told you that was by design—the Camerons could never be earlier than fashionably late. You always assumed you and Rafe were raised with similar pedigrees, but you're barely through the doors of the event before you realize that's not entirely true. Up until the last millisecond, Rose is fussing with Sarah and Wheezie's gowns, the older daughter making eye contact with you and rolling her eyes at her step-mother's antics. And Ward brushes Rafe's shoulders off more times than you can count, straightening his bow tie for him repeatedly. Rafe just places his hand on your back, leaning down to whisper into your ear. “You ready?”

You smile up at him, but your nerves are firmly settled in at this point. What you reply isn’t completely true. “Of course.”

—

You take John B’s advice, of course, and choose Kelce as your designated drinking buddy for the night. He was hard to keep up with, but you threw your inhibitions to the wind after you got meeting the Camerons out of the way. Plus, Rafe had more business to attend to than he’d let on, and you were getting pretty bored. Not too long ago he would’ve been right beside the rest of you, causing trouble and borderline embarrassing all of your parents. It was weird to see him walking around, shaking hands and rubbing elbows. He’d invited you into a few conversations, you trying your hardest not to simply watch him in awe.

You’re engaged in some strange dance battle with Kelce when he stacks his drink into yours, both empties at this point. “Your turn to get a round.”

“Boo,” you sigh, throwing your head back. “What d’you want?”

“Surprise me.”

“Aye aye.”

You’re turning on a shaky high heel, and you have to give yourself a little mental pep talk to straighten up. Of course you can, though.

“What can I get you, miss?” the barkeep asks.

“Vodka press, Tito’s, and a Jack and coke. Double Jack. Actually—single. Thanks,” you murmur, trying to fish a ten out of your clutch.

“Don’t worry, I’ve got the tip for this one,” a voice says next to you. Ward Cameron is sidling up next to you, sliding a fifty across the counter. Your eyes widen at the tip, trying not to be embarrassed as the bartender sets the drinks down in front of you.

“Oh, thank you, Mr. Cameron.”

“Ah, call me Ward.” He flicks his eyes back to the bartender, who quickly pockets the tip and makes himself scarce to give the two of you some privacy. You can’t help but think of John B’s warning: ‘he’s really only scary when it’s one-on-one.’ There’s no point in even trying seek out Rafe, you knowing full well you’re expected to stay rooted to the spot until Ward dismisses you. “Having a good time?”

“Yeah,” you nod. “It’s always fun to come back out here for this.”

“So, California to Georgia,” he whistles. “That’s probably a five hour flight, at least.”

“Yeah, um,” you take a minute to make sure your flower crown is perfectly in place. “It’s actually two.”

“Excuse me?”

“Two flights. From his school to mine. Rafe checked, he said there’s nothing direct,” you clarify.

Ward let’s out an indifferent chuckle. “Of course he did.”

Your eyebrow furrows because you don’t know what to say, turning to look at where your drinks are starting to melt. Kelce would be wondering where you are by now if he wasn’t three sheets to the wind. And where the hell was Rafe?

“Y/n, as far as I can tell, you are a nice girl. I just need to make sure we’re on the same page about one thing.”

Your heartbeat that hadn’t really settled since Ward approached you is picking up again, and you really wish Rafe had been the least bit more concerned about where you were at this moment.

“Um, I-I’m not sure I know what you’re talking about.”

“I'm don’t know how serious you two are, Y/n, but I know my son. He's clearly very invested in pursuing you.”

Your resolve crumbles a little at that, your heart warming, thinking about Ward noticing something like that.

“But Rafe needs to be committed to finishing this degree so he can come home and start learning the ropes next year. And in four years, Sarah will do the same. Then Louisa after her.”

“Wow, that’s so lucky for you—that they all want to go into the family business,” you praise, not really knowing what else to say. It must be the wrong thing, because Ward just quirks an eyebrow.

“In this family, our business will always come first. Before anything and anyone else. Do you see what I’m getting at?”

You swallow, catching on to where this is going for the first time. You still go for playing dumb.

“Ward, I really don't think I understand.”

“But you do, don't you? You know Rafe. He’s a bit emotional, he’s a ‘feeler,’” Ward says sarcastically, putting it in air quotes. All of the niceties you experienced earlier when you first greeted Rafe’s family were long gone. You can only gather that it was all an act for Rafe’s benefit. But you know the only option is to sit there and take it. “He thinks with his heart, never enough with his head. Sarah, for example—when it’s time for her to cut that pogue lose, which it will be soon enough, I know she will. Whether it’s my decision or her’s. I can count on that, because she’s just like me in that respect; she knows we have to make sacrifices. But Rafe—I don’t think I can make that same assumption about him.”

“Ward, with all due respect, Rafe is really focused on the business.”

“You're correct, and I’ve worked hard to get him there. Which is why I can't have him spending his senior year of college, when he should be buckled down, traveling back and forth from California and getting distracted from his future by some girl.”

“Mr. Cameron, I would never—”

“You know that it’s true. I can tell you’re bright. You come from a great family.” It’s a compliment and an insult all at once. He likes you because of your father’s business and your mother’s social status, not because of what you do for Rafe, or what you have to show for yourself. He continues like it was nothing but the highest praise. “But right now, you are across the country from him, and I can bet he’s determined to make that work, no matter what it takes. Which I obviously can’t have,” Ward sighs. “It’s just not the right time. You can understand that, can't you?”

You nod numbly and pick up your drinks, hoping he’ll get the signal to wrap this up soon. You’re at the point where you can’t listen to this anymore, liquid courage re-flooding your veins.

“I’m not asking you to stay away from him, because you’re both adults,” Ward says, stopping you with a hand on your shoulder. “But I’m asking you to think long and hard about what’s best for the both of you. Rafe already knows what’s expected of him. He’s always known.”

You look back towards the crowd under the gazebo, able to make out John B of all people. He sees you talking to Ward, shooting you the most subtle thumbs up he can muster. He has no idea. You don’t take the chance to nod at him, turning back to the bar.

“Say the two of you let it go for the school year,” Ward bulldozes, taking a step closer to you. “And you end up back here too, great. But even then Rafe’s going to be working all the time, the longest hours he ever will in his life. For the next few years, Y/n. You’re so young—are you really going to tie yourself down to a commitment like that? What about your future?”

In a tone you hope comes across as confident, you say, “I really appreciate your concern, Ward.”

Ward's perfectly white teeth are pulling into an even more perfect grin, and the sight makes you sick.

“Great. I'm glad we had this talk.” He pats you on the back, leaving first before you get the chance to.

You just shuffle through the crowd numbly, not even reacting when someone steps on your toe, taking it all in stride as you seek the comfort of your friends once again.

You were foolish to think Ward would warm up to you immediately, or at all. You had been way too confident in yourself, especially after witnessing the wear working for his father had on Rafe. ‘He’s not an easy man to please.’ How could you be so naive, thinking you could coast by on your charm?

You’re a few feet away when you notice that Topper had joined up with Kelce again, as had your boyfriend. He’s joking with them, amused at the way Topper is clearly almost done tolerating Kelce’s drunken antics, but you stand and watch for a bit as he scans the crowd, gaze flickering toward the bar you’d just been at. You realize he’s looking for you when he finally spots you, his face relaxing as the two of you make eye contact.

“There you are.” He pulls you in close, kissing your forehead. You want to cry. “Where’d you run off to? One of those for me?”

He’s gesturing to the drinks you’re holding, reaching for the darker of the two. But Kelce is swooping in, snatching it out of your hold quickly. “Nope,” he pops the ‘p.’ “This one’s all mine. Sorry Cameron. Thanks Y/n/n.”

Rafe just rolls his eyes at the two of you, eyes lingering on your face when he notices your fallen expression. He sets your other drink down on the high top table you’re all standing next to, pulling you in by your hips. “You okay?”

If you had a choice right now, about how to proceed with telling or not telling Rafe about what had just happened, your instincts compel you to bypass the decision process altogether; you paint a careful smile on your face, shaking your head slightly. “Yeah, all good. Just zoned out for a sec.”

He isn’t convinced. “Tired?”

“Maybe a little. Kinda drunk. Are we leaving soon?” you ask, melting into him. It’s a lot easier to handle his tone of voice when you don’t have to look him directly in the eye.

“I vote yes,” Topper says, gesturing towards Kelce, who is somehow sucking down his new drink at an alarming pace while continuing to dance to the oldies tunes they play at these things. “Like, right now. Rafe, you’re hanging back right?”

You look back up at your boyfriend in confusion. “You’re not coming with us?”

He bite his lip in contemplation, looking around the party. The twinkly lights reflect off of his pupils, making him look starry-eyed as he surveys the crowd. A sea of opportunities to prove himself to his father. Rafe looks resolved when he turns back to you.

“Well... I was gonna stay, wrap up some stuff,” he explains. His eyes flicker across your face, still not pleased with your expression. “But that’s okay, I’m good to go now.”

“No, Rafe,” you say immediately. You take a deep breath, rolling back your shoulders and painting on a smile that comes easily with years of experience at parties like this. “Stay, I’ll go ahead. How long will you be?”

“An hour, tops. Will you take her?” Rafe looks hesitant, still taking your green light anyway, already slowly extracting himself from your hold, Topper rolling his eyes but nodding and beginning to corral Kelce toward the exit.

“I can’t believe you’re making me babysit two of them.”

“Don’t let her drink too much.”

“Hey,” you protest, pushing him in his chest half heartedly. The push barely does anything, only proving your impaired motor skills further. Or that you're dating a tree. “What are you, a cop?”

“I’m your boyfriend, actually.”

“Really? When did that happen?” you decide to play along, picking up your drink again.

“‘Bout a month ago, Y/l/n,” he says softly. He can see right through you, can tell you're putting on a show for all of your friends but you're still not okay. You have to break eye contact.

“Hmm, for some reason I thought you were just this guy from middle school.”

“At least this time nobody spilled on your dress,” he teases half-heartedly, and the memory only hurts you more. “Not sure I’d wanna sacrifice this one.”

“Can you—you guys are the worst. Focus. We need to go now, before Kelce gets his entire family blacklisted from the club. You coming or not, Y/n/n?” Topper begs.

You’re nodding, leaning up to give Rafe one last kiss before you leave. He holds you close to him with a firm hand on your back, voice dropping to a whisper right next to your ear. “You’re sure you’re okay?”

The lump in your throat is growing, but you push through, lowering yourself back down to your feet as soon as you can. “Yeah, don’t worry about it. Focus on the rest of your night.”

Rafe still looks unsure, his hand resting on the nape of your neck as he kisses your forehead. “Y/n—”

“We’ll talk about it later, okay?” you finally admit. Rafe nods curtly, can tell you’re not going to let him leave with you right now. But he doesn’t know why. He doesn’t know that if you pull him away from his responsibilities right after that talk you had with Ward, it’s going to spell disaster for the two of you.

“Just some business stuff, alright?” he assures you. “I’ll see you soon. Forty-five minutes.”

“Promise?” you murmur, fiddling with his pocket square. He smiles down at you, tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear.

“Promise. You look so pretty. Half an hour. Now go.”

Topper’s guiding you towards the parking lot with a polite hand on your back, but you have to watch Rafe as you leave. You watch him approach his dad, who gives him a smile and a pat on the back. Rafe preens under his gaze.

But Ward must have been watching you two from afar because his gaze is flickering back to you, and he fixes you with a hard stare. He raises his eyebrows, bringing his drink to his lips. Taking a leisurely sip, hint of a smirk on his face. You can practically hear his thoughts: ‘Rafe chose to stay here with me, with the business, and sent you off with his friends.’ It’s everything in you to not let the tears that have been building on your waterline spill over. But your friend isn’t easily fooled.

“Y’alright, Y/n?” Topper says from beside you, trusting Kelce enough to walk on his own as you all near the parking lot. He moves to follow your gaze but you stop him, quickening your pace towards his gray Jeep. “Did something happen?”

“Ward Cameron happened.”

———

tags: @moniamaybank @downbytheouterbanks @littlementalpolaroids

#rafe cameron #rafe x y/n #rafe fic #rafe x reader #rafe x you #rafe cameron imagine #outer banks #outer banks imagine #outer banks fanfiction #outer banks fic #obx fanfiction #she writes

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illfoandillfie · 3 years ago

Text

Kinktober Day 7: Somnophilia (+Double Penetration - 2 holes)

Kinktober Masterlist | Regular Masterlist

Pairing: Roger Taylor x Fem!Reader

Words: 2,397

Warnings: Somnophilia, double penetration, anal sex, sex toys (dildo + plug), dom!Roger, protected sex, light degradation (slut), edging

A/N: This was kind of inspired by a couple of different posts I saw on a (now deleted) porn blog. I’ve been wanting to do something with the concepts for a little while now and this seemed like the perfect opportunity!

I guess I was picturing 70s rog since its a flatmate/fwb type relationship but go nuts imagining whatever you want lmao

It hadn’t been Roger’s idea to set up a friends with bennefits type arrangement, but he’d liked the suggestion when you made it and before the end of the night was out you’d sealed the deal, so to speak. He’d been a touch tispy at the time, as had you, but when he woke up in your bed the next morning he hadn’t believed it to be a mistake, even if you were his flatmate. And so the arrangement (or as Roger dubbed it, The Fuckbuddy Pact) stuck. In an effort to make sure neither of you would feel weird about what happened and to avoid anything becoming too much like a relationship, Roger suggested that you should get all your kinks and weird fetishes out into the open straight away.

“That way we’ll both know what we’re in for from the jump,” he said, looking at you from the opposite end of the couch, “None of that getting to know you shit, or taking our time. We’re both here for sex so let’s just figure out what sex we’ll both like and get straight into it, right?” “Sounds excellent,” you’d said, cheersing his bottle of beer with your glass. It was how he’d discovered your interest in somnophilia (a term he’d not heard before and had needed a thorough explanation of). But once he knew what it was, Roger had been keen to try it out with you. There were other things too but the somnophilia was the newest to him and, thus, the most exciting. Before the month was out you’d figured out a system to incorproate it into your sex safely. The main rule was that if either of you was asleep and naked, it was okay to initiate sex. Eventually there ended up being a few exceptions or addendums added to that rule – it was still okay if the sleeping party wore a top of some kind as long as they were pantsless, and once or twice lingerie had been deemed to not count as clothes, but only on special occasions when you’d prearranged it. It became a regular part of your sex lives, which was especially useful for Roger who often didn’t get home from playing gigs until the early hours of the morning. If you were in bed and undressed, he’d take the opportunity to blow off some of the adrenaline without having to use his hand which was underwhelming compared to your cunt. But, more often than not, you’d do what most sexual partners did and got it out of your systems before bed time.

Roger already suspected that you were hoping for a quick tumble when he heard the knock on his door, but he had other things on his mind too as he told you to come in. “Hey, Rog, you busy?” “Uhhh yeah, sorry, running late for rehearsals but I can’t find my fucking drumsticks,” Roger said, moving things around his desk as he searched for the missing sticks. “Oh, damn.” “Let me guess,” he said, pausing in the hunt and turning to face you, “horny?” “My friend recommended a porn thing and I kinda got worked up.” You shrugged, unembarrassed to admit what you wanted. That self-confidence was enough to make Roger wish he could stay and give you what you wanted but he was already late and couldn’t afford to be later. Instead he laughed and turned back to double check his backpack, “I would but, I’m leaving as soon as I fin- Aha! Bloody things must have rolled off the bed. Sorry, Y/N.” “Oh, no worries. I’ll take care of myself.” He smiled at the thought, “Well I better go. See you tonight?” “Yeah, see ya. Have fun.”

It was later than he’d expected by the time Roger got home. Part of him (the part in his pants mostly) vaguely wondered if you’d still be up for something but the bits of him controlled by his brain thought it more likely that you’d have had a nice couple of orgasms on your own and called it a night. Still, he thought he might at least check in on you once he’d dropped his bag in his room. To his surprise though, his bed wasn’t empty like it should have been. He jumped when the light from the hall softly illuminated you, on your back and deep asleep, but his shock quickly turned to delight as he realised you were naked. “You little minx,” he muttered under his breath, impressed by the invitation you were giving him. But as he walked closer he paused again, noticing something he hadn’t been able to see from the doorway. There, beside your hand, was your favourite glass dildo, as if you’d passed out after using it. “Oh you are naughty,” Roger chuckled. He traced one hand down your body, between your breasts and over your stomach, and softly said your name, checking if you’d rouse. But you were deep asleep and not likely to wake up any time soon. A plan for what to do with you forming, Roger stepped away from you for a moment to strip down to his briefs. His cock was already beginning to stir at the sight of you. He reached out to touch you again, less cautiously this time, palming your breasts before dipping his hand lower and lower, down to your cunt, pleased to find you still wet from whatever you’d been doing before you fell asleep. You let out a soft hum as he explored you, thumb teasing over your clit as he wet his fingers between your folds. Roger paused at the sound, not ready for you to wake up yet, but once it was clear you were still asleep he sank two fingers into you. Slowly they penetrated your heat, pausing to make sure the sensation hadn’t roused you at all. But you slept on. Carefully Roger partially withdrew his fingers before sinking them in again, gradually working up to a consistent thrust that had your unconscious body sighing and spreading your legs wider. “Good girl,” he whispered, watching you carefully. The hall light was still on but his door wasn’t open fully so the darkness was only dimmed slightly. He twisted his fingers inside you, easily finding the spots that usually made you scream his name but which now just made your eyebrows knit together. By this point in your relationships Roger was quite confident that he could understand your body. He’d made you cum enough times, awake and asleep, to know what you liked and just how much you liked it. And he knew what it looked like when you were close to orgasm. Which is how he knew to stop, to still his fingers and wait for you to calm down.

There was no real reason to edge you. If anything it just made it more likely you’d wake before he’d got his dick wet. But he had fun with it. Watching the way you’d shift, your chest rising and falling more rapidly, your lips parted as whimpers fell from them, your hips automatically rolling to meet his hand. And then he’d stop again. It made him chuckle quietly to himself. Knowing he could control your body so easily was thrilling. It made him want to do it more. So as soon as your face had relaxed again, your limbs loose and limp, he’d settle into the rhythm once more, curious how much you’d take before you woke up and begged him to finish you off. It was tempting to just keep going. He pictured you waking with a moan, your first words a plea for release or better yet for his cock so he could fuck you properly. Roger groaned. In the time he’d taken to edge you a handful of times his dick had well and truly stiffened and, as much as he enjoyed toying with you, what he really wanted was to cum in you so when you woke you’d know you’d been used. With that thought in mind he withdrew his fingers fully, taking a second to suck them clean and enjoy your taste. Having you on his tongue just made him want to fuck you more so he carefully knelt between your legs, shifting one to give himself a better angle. He was moments from finally taking what he so wanted to take from you, when something caught his eye.

It didn’t glint as much as it did in the day but he could see it’s outline all the same. And when he double checked that he wasn’t imaging it, pressing his thumb against the hard end of it, you groaned. “A dildo and a butt plug?” He asked you, knowing you wouldn’t respond, “Is that a surprise for me? Or is it just because nothing satisfies you like I do?” Roger’s hand slipped down to his underwear, pushing his briefs down enough that he could get his cock out. He hissed as he spread his precum along his length, contemplating how he should use you. “Could fuck your cunt now and hope you stay asleep long enough for me to get back there. Or maybe I should just go all in, have your arse straight away. That’ll mean wearing a condom though. Or would it?” he shook his head, now was not the time to try anal raw for the first time, “No, condom definitely.” He was still trying to decide what to do when you shifted in your sleep, rolling onto your side. The new position you lay in made it much easier to reach your arsehole. “That decides it then,” Roger said to himself, shedding his underwear and opening his bedside draw for his lube.

Carefully, he settled himself behind you and slowly began to remove your plug. It took a few stops and starts, pulling out and sinking in, almost fucking you with it, as you whimpered in your sleep but you seemed to press yourself back towards him as if trying to encourage him. “Just can’t get enough of me, can you?” he chuckled as he set the plug aside and spread the lube around your hole. He rolled the condom down his shaft and spread the lube along it too, humming at the slick friction of his hand, knowing he was about to feel something a hundred thousand times better. And then he lined himself up, pushing the head of his cock into the ring of muscles you’d so generously stretched out with your plug. He went slowly there too, partially so you’d sleep on and partially so he wouldn’t cum embarrassingly fast. When he finally began to fuck you, you moaned into your pillow, able to feel it in your sleep. Roger bit his lip to keep his own moan from getting too loud. You moved in your sleep again, your legs opening more as you half rolled onto your front. It let Roger fuck you deeper and gave him better access to your pussy too. “You’re a bit of a whore when you’re alseep,” he said softly, reaching for the dildo. You were still wet enough that it sank into you easily, like it remembered where it had been earlier and fit into your cunt perfectly. The way you lay meant he didn’t have what he’d call easy access to you but it was enough that he could thrust the dildo somewhat rhythmically. He faltered here and there as the feeling of fucking you distracted him but he didn’t feel too bad about the slips, knowing it was keeping you from reaching your release. Your sleepy sighs and moans got louder as he filled both your holes which just made him fuck you harder, enjoying the sounds you were making and wanting to hear more.

You woke with a broken moan in your throat, jerking under Roger’s hands but he shushed you, his palms warm against your skin and his voice familiar and reassuring. “Stay right there, baby. Being such a good set of holes for me to enjoy.” You couldn’t do much more than moan again, dazed from the sudden way you’d been pulled back to consciousness and realising what you’d felt in your dreams had been very real indeed. “This was what you wanted wasn’t it? When you fell asleep in my bed.” You nodded, the sound of the fabric of the pillowcase loud against your ear. “Uh uh, words Love. If you’re going to be a slut the least you can do is admit it.” “Yes, Rog. Want-wanted this.” “Good girl. And how do you feel now?” “Oh god, close. So close.” Roger slowed the pace of the dildo, putting more effort into thrusting into you, his hips slapping loudly against your skin. You keened at the loss of friction. “Slut-s don’t com-complain.” Roger grunted as he used you, “They t-ake what they’re giv-en.” You whined but that just made Roger laugh, louder now you were awake but broken by groans and moans of his own. It didn’t take much more for him to cum, stuttering out, “Fu-ck Y-Y/N,” as he did.

Roger was panting as he eased himself out of your arsehole, replacing his cock with the plug and giving your hip a light tap of thanks. The dildo was still inside you, but he’d not been moving it at all as he reached his climax so it wasn’t much help. “Did you cum?” he asked, his breathing still heavy as he flopped onto the mattress beside you. You shook your head and sighed, “And after I waited here all night to surprise you too. Thought you’d be home sooner.” “Is that why you had the toys? You got bored waiting for me?” “No, I was expecting you to come home while I was using them. Only then I came and fell asleep.” "Of course,” Roger laughed, “you still got your shag though, don’t know why you’re complaining.” “I’m really fucking horny still, that’s bloody why. What are you smirking about?” “Nothing. Just nice to know edging you in your sleep works just as well as when you’re awake.” “Prick!” you squealed though unable to contain your smile at the idea. “Don’t worry. Give me a few minutes to clean up and get my stamina back and then I’ll make you cum as many times as you want.”

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