#this took a turn but you know what this was necessary. She needs reassurance. | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

seresinhangmanjake · 4 months

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Do You Love?

Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen x wife!reader

Summary: Feyd is soft for his wife and only wants to know if she loves him. His wife just wants him to come home.

Notes/Warnings: fluff and a little angst and very light smut (still 18+), softy-soft Feyd, probably could do with a wedding prequel if people were interested, im sure there are typos. I think that's it.

Words: 1400

Feyd-Rautha Masterlist

He hates being away from you. Can't bear it. It takes less than two days for withdrawal from your lack of presence to settle in, and when it hits, it hits hard. The luminescence of your smile that threatens the darkness within him on his worst days; the delicate suppleness of your skin that introduced him to the softness and warmth of a human body; the specific quality and tone of your voice when you whisper and whimper and moan in his ear—he needs it. He needs you. He craves you until the second you’re in his arms again. He just wishes he could understand if you feel the same. He wishes he could know if you love him as much as he does you.

When you came into his life, you were a pawn for peace. A gift from one Great House to another. A reluctant bride who couldn’t choke back her tears on her wedding day. He’ll never forget the saltiness that lingered on his lips after the kiss that bound you to him forever. He can still feel the pang in his heart from seeing you finch when he guided the strap of your nightgown off your shoulder.

It took ages for you to shed your fear; to allow him to hold you and kiss you and be inside of you, but those many months of ‘two steps forward, one step back’ have left him in a paralyzing state of identity crisis and uncertainty. You’ve turned him into a man who begs for scraps of reassurance that you care for him rather than a man who shows no mercy for love; a man so preoccupied with thoughts of his wife’s affection that not even his enemies are granted his full attention as he watches the light drain from their eyes.

From the moment he leaves, he anticipates his return so you can quell his agitation, at least to some degree. The same words echo in his head each time he steps off a Harkonnen ship to search for you—hug me, hold me, kiss me, let my body inside of yours, tell me you love me—and in recent months you haven’t failed to do those things, with the exception of the last request. The day you tell him you love him will be the day he stops fearing you'll eventually grow bored with him. On that day, he’ll be happy, at peace. He’ll be unafraid of what his future with you will bring.

—

Reader POV

He often goes to Arrakis for a week or two, that’s not new. He must monitor things and fight Fremen when necessary. However, this time was different. There was something foreign in his eyes after he kissed your palm and boarded his ship to depart. Sadness? Pain? Worry? All three? You didn’t know, but it terrified you from how little he tried to disguise it. With each departure, it’s seemed his mood has worsened and you can't decipher its cause.

Now, ten days later, your fingernails are worn to nubs and dark circles have found home under your eyes from nightmares interrupting your sleep. They’re different every night but they always end with Feyd not coming home to you, and you don’t know how to cope. You tell yourself you’re crazy, that there’s no possibility of him being taken down with a Fremen knife or gobbled up by a sandworm or blown to bits from his ship getting shot out of the sky. He’s too smart, too quick, too trained for such things to claim his life. At the same time, however, the last person whose death you dreamt of was your mother’s, and while it’s rare your dreams are prophetic, that one came to fruition not five days later. Who is to say your dreams of your husband are not the same?

But you can’t lose Feyd, not when it feels like you just got him. When you married, your dread of navigating a new husband and life on Giedi Prime—both of which have a reputation for being cold and desolate and harsh—crippled your ability to see him for who he is. It’s only been the last few months that you’ve let yourself love and understand him, and you can’t imagine a reality in which you wake one morning knowing you will never have him again. You wouldn’t survive it.

But you won't have to, because he's fine, perfectly safe—that's what you tell yourself. He told you he wouldn’t be away long and he wouldn’t say that unless he believed it, right?

Then again, believing he would be home soon doesn’t mean fate agrees. What if he's already gone? Wait, no. No, he wouldn't do that to you. He'll be home because he always makes it home. He’s fine. He’s safe. He would never leave you. You nod to yourself, swallowing hard. He’s fine. He’s safe. He would never leave. He’s fine. He’s safe. He would never leave.

Your body curls into the first touch of warmth you’ve had in a week and a half as a heavy weight rests in the dip of your waist and tugs you against a solid form. Plush lips ghost your temple. A heartbeat thrums in your ear and you feel the rise and fall of a chest.

Oh, you like this dream. He’s so real in this dream. It’s the first dream where death is not at his heels.

“You don’t know how I miss you,” he mutters into your ear. Stands of your loose hair brush back from your face. “How unbearable it is.”

His voice is so clear, so beautiful and vivid that it’s almost like he’s really with you. Humming contently, you huddle further into him. “Then stop leaving me,” you mumble.

Breath catches in his chest, no longer moving at a steady rhythm. “You're awake?”

Your brows knit—that's not a very ‘dream-like’ question; it threatens your lovely illusion—and then your eyes snap open.

“Feyd?” His nose is an inch from yours. Your hand raises to cup his cheek, just to see if he is real, and you gasp at how warm his skin is under your palm. “You're here,” you cry, quickly pushing him onto his back and crawling on top of him.

You press your lips to his, hard. A whimper is pulled from your throat when he parts his mouth so you can get a taste of his tongue. Yes, he’s definitely real.

Hands trail down your back to your ass, squeezing two handfuls of flesh and pushing your pelvis down onto his. He’s already hard and thick and pressing into you, the matching thin material of your nightgown and his sleep pants doing a pathetic job of maintaining any sort of barrier.

Feyd slowly drags the ink-toned silk up the curves and dimples of your body until it pools at your waist. Fingers graze your skin as they move lower to slide through your slick bare folds, and at his touch, your brain goes absolutely fuzzy. You’re unashamedly desperate, refusing to take any longer to get what you need, but when you finally free him from his pants and he thrusts up into you, you both find yourselves stopping. The kiss breaks and you simply breathe in each other’s breaths as he stays nestled deep inside you.

Your forehead falls to his. A fresh tear that you hadn’t noticed in your eye lands on his cheek. “You're ok,” you gently whimper, reassuring yourself of his safety. His nose nudges yours.

“When am I not?” he whispers as he catches the next tear with his thumb before it drops from your lower lashes.

“In my nightmares.”

His brow pinches in curiosity, cock twitching within your walls. “You dream about me?”

You lightly nod. “I thought this was a dream.”

“Why?”

“Because I had a sickening feeling you weren’t going to make it back this time. I know it was a routine trip, but I just couldn’t shake it,” you say. “And that would’ve killed me, Feyd. I love you.”

Feyd sucks in a short stream of air as his hips slightly buck up against yours. “You love me?” he repeats.

“Yes,” you exhale, riding the little high of pleasure that came from the sharp involuntary shift of his hips. “I was so scared to be right.”

Feyd's arms tighten around you and he tilts his chin up to connect your lips. Kisses travel along the line of your jaw and down the length of your neck. His tongue dips into the hollow of your throat.

“I love you,” he tells you.

Your stuffy chuckle settles into a grin. “I know you do.”

---

tag: @avidreader73

#feyd rautha x reader #feyd rautha x you #feyd rautha #dune part 2 #austin butler #feyd rautha harkonnen #dune

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cumikering · 7 months

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Neighbour Ghost x reader

2.6k | fluff, mentions of physical abuse If Simon still had his family (part 2)

Simon Riley just got back to the safe house when he saw it.

Tommy Riley, 2 hours ago, 5 missed calls

It’s mum. Call back.

His heart thumped as the phone rang. “Mum?” he said as soon as the line connected. ”Are you alright? Did something happen?”

“Oh, Simon…” her voice cracked.

His dad had always been an alcoholic ever since he could remember. He and his younger brother Tommy grew up witnessing his antics: stumbling through the door with slurred shouts in the wee hours of the night, often breaking things in the house, taunting them with the exotic animals he brought on occasions, if he even came home at all.

Mrs. Riley turned the other cheek, making excuses for him. As a child, Simon believed her, that people were short sometimes. Because daddy was tired at work, because mummy didn’t cook dinner right, or forgot to buy his favourite beer… Until he grew up and saw the behaviour as what it was.

But she never left, reassuring him his dad would never lay a hand on her. Simon didn’t trust that bastard of a man, but it was her choice to stay and he could only respect that. It was not his decision to make.

At least if he couldn’t bring her the happiness she deserved, he had to do something to distract himself from the hell at home and divert his aggression. That, and he wanted to help make the world a better place. When he left for the military, he firmly warned Tommy to take care of mum and to be there for her if anything was to happen.

Still, Simon spent his adult life painstakingly watching, waiting for the man’s first misstep so he could eliminate that cancer out of everyone’s life once and for all. The day was finally here. His dad had chased his mum about the house with a knife.

“I- I’ve got nothing but the clothes on my back. I walked barefoot to Tommy’s,” she said between sobs.

“How long has this-“ He stopped himself. It was not the time. He took a deep breath, his hand in a fist, knuckles white. “You’re catching the next train to Hereford,” he growled through gritted teeth. “You’ll stay at my flat until I’m back and we’ll figure things out. Someone from the base will call and help you out.”

“I don’t want to be a bother, Si. I just… I don’t know what to do.”

“You’re never a bother,” he said sternly. “I only go back home on the weekends, just stay there. I need you to be safe, mum. Please.”

In Hereford, on a chilly Tuesday night as you made your way down the hall to your flat, there stood a lady fumbling with the key to her own. On the floor laid bags overflowing with fresh produce. She turned as your footsteps approached.

“Hiya, sweetheart. Terribly sorry, but could you give me a hand please? I can’t seem to get the door.” She was middle aged, greying short hair, soft spoken with a Manchester accent.

“’Course.” You smiled at her as she moved aside. “Don’t think I’ve seen you here before.” The key only turned halfway before stopping.

“I just got here some days ago.”

You grunted before turning it all the way. “There you go.” You pushed the door open.

“Oh, you’re an angel, luv.“ She thrusted a bag of apples towards you. “It’s not much, but here. Please have these as a thanks.”

“That won’t be necessary, ma’am. It’s nothing really.”

“Please, I insist.” She put her hand on yours. “And it’s Melanie.”

You smiled. “Welcome to the building, Melanie. I’m at the end of the hall if you need me.”

You spent Saturday morning baking, courtesy of Melanie’s delicious gift. Even that you devoured the apples throughout the days, you didn’t want to risk the rest going bad on you – you could only eat so much. As you let the pie cool, you cleaned up before making your way to her flat.

It didn’t take long for the door to open. Your smile fell as you blinked at the man staring down at you. His stature huge, almost filling the doorframe as he stood unmoving.

You cowered, eyes darting away. “Hi, uh, is Melanie in?”

“Melanie?” he repeated, voice gruff and cautious. He leaned his forearm against the frame, appearing even more intimidating than the situation needed him to be. “What does this concern?”

You took a step back. “Just… wanted to give this to her.” You held out the pie towards him.

“Who is it, Si?” a woman from behind him called.

The man stepped aside to reveal the much shorter Melanie.

Her face lit up. “Oh, hello, luv. What a surprise!”

“Thanks for the apples, Melanie. I made you this.” You trudged the pan towards her, shifting your weight.

“Come in, come in. This is my son, Simon.” She turned to the man, patting his arm. “She’s the bird who helped me with the door the other day.”

Still with the sharp stare, he gave you a curt nod before you followed Melanie in, placing the pie on the dining table.

“Lunch is almost ready. Would you care to stay, luv?” She made her way towards the stove and muttered, “I always cook too much.”

You smiled. “I’d love to, sure. It smells lovely.”

You helped set up the table as she finished up the soup and brought it out. Simon got himself a helping and sat across you with Melanie beside the both of you. The blond was a few years older than you, jaw lined with a light stubble, but those brown eyes. They were icy, calculating as he glared at you.

Even that the soup was tasty, you regretted saying yes to it as you ate under his scrutiny. Instead, you averted your gaze to take in the flat. The layout was similar to yours, but quality pieces furnished it instead. The large, dark couch in the corner of the living room looked particularly comfortable, behind it a tall shelf lined with books. It was sparsely decorated, and too tidy to be recently moved into without boxes about.

“Do you know if they’ve got a farmer’s market nearby, luv?”

“I don’t, sorry. I get by going to Tesco.” You gave her a soft laugh. “But I can help you ask around.”

She beamed. “That’d be very nice.”

“I do know a bakery a few blocks away with wonderful loaves though. I always buy there.”

While the both of you chatted about the area, Simon was wordless. In fact, he almost didn’t make a noise at all, but at least he’d stopped staring which allowed you to finally relax your back you didn’t realise had been tense. You thanked her again for lunch, and she promised to return the pie pan as soon as she could.

Later that evening, the knock on the door took you away from your laptop. You expected Melanie, but were instead greeted by Simon. Standing a respectable distance from the doorway, he didn’t look like he was trying to scare you this time even that his gaze was as stony.

“Thanks for the pie. Was mint.”

You couldn’t help but chuckle at his flat tone, taking the pan from him. “I’m glad you liked it.”

He grunted, averting his gaze. “I wanted to thank you, for how nice you’ve been to my mum.” He looked back up at you. “She’s having a bit of a hard time adjusting.”

Your shoulders relaxed. “I understand. It’s not always easy going somewhere new.”

“If you ever need anything, feel free to drop by.” He gave you a half smile before turning away.

The blond Mancunian was the last person you expected at your door on Wednesday night. You’d just taken your coat off as you arrived back from work.

“I got greedy and bought too much takeaway. Would you like to join us for dinner?”

You laughed. “Really? Too much food?”

“I’m not fond of leftovers.” He shrugged, inadvertently emphasising his size.

“Well, I haven’t had dinner yet.”

“Mon’ then.” He tiled his head towards his flat, his hands now shoved in the pockets of his black hoodie.

“Glad you could join us, luv.” Melanie smiled as she set the table.

“Hard to resist takeaway.” You chuckled as you approached. Takeaway boxes almost covered the entirety of the table. “Wow, this is a whole spread.”

“I said the same thing!”

“What can I say, I’m a hungry man,” he said gruffly behind you.

You turned to him in amusement. He gave you a shrug, but this time his eyes didn’t look as hard. In fact, you thought you saw a whisper of a smile on his lips.

Later that Saturday as you lounged around on the couch, you looked up from your book at the knock on the door. It was once again Simon in his hoodie, his posture impressive as always.

“My mum told me to run to the shops because we’re out of salt. Any chance you’ve got some to spare so I don’t have to?”

“Salt? Of course.” You headed to the kitchen, leaving the door open.

His fingertips brushed against yours as you handed him the ceramic container.

“She’s cooking pasta. Fancy some?” He tilted his head towards his flat.

“I shouldn’t.”

“Why not?” He raised an eyebrow.

You gave him an amused smile. “I’m starting to feel like a freeloader.”

“It’s the least we can offer in return of the salt.”

“It’s just salt.”

“We wouldn’t be eating without your salt, if I’m honest.”

The smile remained as you shook your head.

“Come, she’s waiting.”

At the stove, Melanie thanked you for the ‘life-saving’ salt when you should be the one thanking her for her hospitality. By now, you knew where the tableware was and started setting the table, but this time Simon trailed, grabbing glasses and closing the cabinet doors after you.

“It’s brilliant, really,” you said after the first bite of the tomato pasta. “You’re feeding me too well.”

She smiled proudly. “I’m glad you like it.”

“I’m not a culinary prodigy at all, but please let me return the favour and make the meal next time.”

“Don’t wor-“

“When?” Simon piped up.

“Next weekend sounds good?”

“Can’t do.”

You hummed. “Well, I won’t have enough time to cook anything fancy on weekdays.”

Melanie swatted her hand. “Oh, you really don’t have to, luv.”

“But there’s still tomorrow. How does lunch sound? I’ll do the shopping today.”

“I’ll drive. Need to pick up a few things too.”

You smiled at him and turned to Melanie. “You want to come with?”

She shook her head. “You kids have fun.”

Simon cleaned up while you got ready before leaving in his SUV. In the sun, his eyes were gorgeous glimmers of deep caramel framed by long, blond lashes. He’d pushed his hoodie sleeves up to his elbows, revealing his toned forearms – the left one inked.

It flexed as his hand rested atop the steering wheel at the red light. You could see the details from here – skulls and rifles over fire adorned his pale skin. You wondered how far up the monochrome sleeve extended.

He still hadn’t said anything since he picked you up at your door. At this point, you couldn’t tell if he was awkward or simply didn’t like to talk. You tried your luck anyway.

“How do you find the building so far?”

“No complaints. Been there over a year.”

“Really? I don’t think I’d seen you before actually.”

“I don’t really live there. Just on the weekends, if any.”

“Didn’t Melanie say she just got here weeks ago?”

“She’s visiting.” He turned to you. “I meant it when I said she likes your company.”

You smiled. “She’s real sweet. I hope she enjoys her stay.”

When you arrived, he beat you to the basket at the entrance.

“I’ll get it. On you, luv.”

You got called ‘luv’ all the time, but the way he said it made you look away. You couldn’t ignore the tickle that ran down your spine.

On the way to the produce section, the offer sign caught your eye as you passed the biscuit aisle. You reached for the goldfish crackers you hadn’t had in a while.

“Two goldfish are in a tank…” he started behind you.

You turned to him, a brow raised.

“One looks at the other and says ‘You know how to drive this thing?’”

Nothing prepared you for a joke from him, the brooding man in oversized hoodies who barely spoke. You cackled embarrassingly loud in the empty aisle. It was your first time seeing him actually smile. He had pretty teeth, and his eyes finally thawed, crinkles by them.

“That’s a good one,” you said after your laughter died down, chucking a bag into the basket.

The ghost of a smile remained on his lips as he looked ahead. You took it as a cue to move along. He stood behind you as you moved about and picked ingredients, telling you the reason he couldn’t do next weekend was because he was in the military and would be gone on a mission. You didn’t know it, but his gaze lingered on you the whole time.

Before long, you were ready to check out, grabbing a box of English Breakfast tea on your way there. In the queue, Simon stood a touch closer behind you than he needed to, his arm splayed on the railing next to you. You didn’t make a move against it. Instead you tried to make out the rest of his tattoo, but the way his veins budged under the ink from holding the basket distracted you.

It occurred to you people had joined the line when you heard giggles behind the wall of Simon. You couldn’t help tuning into the rather loud conversation. One of the girls was dared to skydive after losing a round of beer pong, and the instructor was “so fucking hot summer came back to Birmingham”. She very much looked forward to their date the following week.

You bit back a smile. You were oddly proud of the stranger. You go, girl.

Simon tapped your shoulder and leaned into your ear. “Why don’t blind guys skydive?”

You only managed to turn a fraction before coming face to face with him. Your breath hitched, not expecting the proximity.

“Because it scares the shit out of their dogs.”

Your laughter boomed before you slapped a hand over your mouth and turning to him fully. His warm eyes returned with his smile, looking absolutely pleased with himself.

The eye contact remained a touch longer, only broken by the cashier calling for the next customer. You whipped towards the lady, gaze cast down as Simon hoisted the basket onto the counter.

He didn’t give you a chance to pay as he already had his phone ready at the receiver, shrugging off your protests. You didn’t mention the fact that he didn’t even pick up anything for himself.

It wasn’t a lot, but Simon carried all the shopping up to your flat. You gathered the bags from him after you opened the door.

You pulled a box of salt from one of them. “Here’s for your mum.”

He quickly took it and looked away.

“Thanks again for the ride. See you tomorrow, yeah?”

He nodded, but stood unmoving. His boots only thudded away when you’ve locked the door.

@tiredmetalenthusiast @shadofireshinobi @keegansshark @two-gh0sts @rowanyaboats

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bad268 · 5 months

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I remember you said you’d be so down if clingy Kimi became a series so here’s another “clingy” kimi request.

Kimi antonelli w a short reader. (She’s not short she’s just average size but he’s not convinced).

He’s picking her up any chance he gets to, he’s kissing her forehead and treating her like a stuffed animal. His behavior is prominent during f2 when Kimi gets a DNF coz something went wrong w the car. When he gets to the garage, he rushes to look for reader and when he finds her he’s picking her up and making a beeline to drivers room for a cuddle and reassurance.

"Average" (Andrea Kimi Antonelli X Short-ish! Reader)

Clingy Antonelli Universe (can be read as a stand-alone)

Fandom: RPF/F2/F3

Requested: Clearly (I didn't make being short a plot, but it's there lol)

Warnings: None

POV: Second Person (You/your)

W.C. 1053

Summary: Kimi needed some reassurance after that race (and you're never leaving his side).

As always, my requests are OPEN

MASTERLIST // HITLIST

~~(^Pinterest)

Immediately after the race, it was like you could not get a second to yourself. It was normal to you, but for some reason, this race brought out a whole different level of cling out of Kimi.

This DNF was not something he needed when he was in the title fight. However, it was only the sprint race! He would be starting on the front row for the feature race. Still, it was not fun to have to retire when your breaks start smoking in any situation.

You knew as soon as you saw that Kimi’s car was smoking that you were not going to have any personal space for the foreseeable future. It was not something that happened a lot, but when it did, you had no objections.

He made his way out of the car after parking up in the garage, so the mechanics could get started on it and hopefully, fix the brakes before the feature race. Immediately after his helmet and balaclava were off, he was searching for you. You were not standing in your normal spot in the back of the garage, so he had to do a little bit of searching.

It did not take too long as he found you standing with Toto and Susie at the pit wall. He walked straight up behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist as he listened to a couple of his team talk about the plan for tomorrow. Eventually, you could feel him getting restless just standing there, listening to all of the things that went wrong and what he would need to be aware of tomorrow. You subtly gave a look to Antoine, and he immediately caught on, letting you two go. That’s when Kimi turned his attention to Toto and Susie.

“I’ll do better tomorrow, I swear,” Kimi sighed as he looked at them and fidgeted with his (and your) hands.

“That’s not necessary, Kimi,” Toto said immediately, “It’s not your fault. It’ll be fixed for tomorrow, and we’ll get to see your real potential then.”

“Thank you,” He smiled as he turned to you. “I think now’s a good time to head out, right?”

You nodded, knowing what was next. He placed his arms on the back of your thighs, and he prompted you to jump into his arms. The team was used to it at this point, having been witnesses to this earlier in the season, but you had long since cared about their thoughts of it. You would do anything to make Kimi feel better, and if being as close to you as physically possible made that happen, you would not stand in his way.

He carried you back to his driver’s room. It was a ritual at this point. He would retire the car, pick you up, and then you two would hide away in his driver’s room and watch a show or movie until the race was over.

He set you down on the couch before going off to take a shower and change while you took out your laptop. It was always the same movie that cheered him up, so you queued it up while you moved to grab a water and snack.

Of course, Kimi. being the taller mf he is, put all of your favorite snacks on the top shelf. And sure, you could get a chair and grab them yourself, but you heard the shower turn off. It would take longer to find a chair, grab the food, get down, and put the chair away than it would to just wait for Kimi to grab them for you.

It did not take long for him to come out of the bathroom, wearing a pair of sweatpants and a white t-shirt. He was also holding a Prema hoodie, but you knew he would give it to you. You just stood by the shelves of snacks, pouting and waiting for Kimi to notice you. He set the hoodie on the couch before he saw where you were standing.

“Are you too short to reach?” He chuckled lightly as he slowly walked over to you, easily grabbing the snacks from over your head.

“I’m not short,” You groaned as you wrapped your arms around his waist as he grabbed the snacks. “I’m average. You’re just tall.”

“Pff, ‘average’,” he tsked as he shook his head, “Whatever helps you get by.” He then turned to wrapping one arm under your arms to lift you up and carry you to the couch. He set you down, helping put the hoodie over your head. Then, he went to grab all of the snacks to put them on the coffee table. Kimi laid down behind you and pulled you down to lay on his chest. “Is this okay?”

“If it makes you feel better, it’s perfect,” You whispered as you placed a small kiss on his jaw before resting your head on his chest and carding your fingers through his hair. “You know tomorrow will be better right?”

“Yeah,” He sighed as he fidgeted with the hem of your (his) hoodie. “It just sucks when the head of your future team is watching you retire the car and there is nothing you can do about it.”

“You may not be able to do anything about it now, but what you told the team will help them solve the problem for the feature. You’re on the front row tomorrow, and everyone knows that P2 has the best line into turn 1. It’s better the car retired for the sprint race.”

“You’re right, when are you not?” He laughed as he planted a kiss on your forehead before leaning forward to press play on the movie. “Seems like you always know what to say in these kinds of things.”

“I just know you, and what makes you feel better,” You chuckled with him. “Plus, deep down, you know that it wasn’t your fault. And you know that tomorrow will be better. I’ll be there for your prerace ritual, so no bad luck for the feature race.”

“You’re not leaving my side ever again,” He teased as he held you tighter against his body. “At least, during a race weekend. I’ll carry you around if I have to.”

“You already do, so it wouldn’t be any different.”

~~~

Part 3 ->

Series masterlist

~~~~~

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dropsnectar · 6 days

Text

Pollen and Potions: Bee-men x afab!reader

PART THREE

This is a longer part than the rest, but its all necessary dialogue so it should be fine. More fluffy and romance than smut, BUT!! Their will be smut in the next section! I know I said this will only be 4 parts, but it may actually be more like 5 or 6. Anyway, hope you like!

So. You were starting to learn that using large batches of magic back to back weren't ideal for a young witch's health. It seemed like you might have overdone it, as when you woke you found you had been asleep for TWO WHOLE DAYS. So. If you were going to do magic, it looked like you were going to have to pace yourself, or perhaps use LESS magic.

You put yourself to learning more about witchcraft. The thing was, your grandmother's books didn't really go into the basics, and as witches were so rare, information was hard to find. Of course, the internet was full of supposed witch spells, or frameworks, but it was like throwing dice. Some spells didn't work. Some spells took up WAY too much energy. Some were just… fine? But not what you needed.

Next you checked out forum sites. Maybe you could find a community through that way? But all you found were psychics and tarot readers. Nice people, but not what you needed.

Whelp. Maybe you needed to look at the issue differently. The environment used to be a beautiful, thriving area. What had changed between now and then? In order to understand a magic ecosystem, you had to understand ecosystems. So, for the rest of the week you busied yourself with ecology study. It was turning out that this project you had adopted on a whim would need a lot more time and breadth of knowledge then you originally thought.

***

When you met with Rena, under Lyith’s friendly gaze, you found that the magic you had cast hadn't waned at all. The flowers had grown beautifully and continued to give magic nectar that created the best honey. Rena was beside herself. “The elders of the hive say they haven't had honey of this quality since they were children! You are really onto something here, little one.”

Rena had now gotten in the habit of calling you little one. Sure, as a Bee-man she was slightly taller than you, but not by much. Also the constant fluttering and floating didn't help.

“You've been given permission to test your magic on our other gardens as well. As long as we are careful and continue with caution!” Rena babbled. You gave her a small smile and felt Lyiths arm on your shoulder. He laid his head on your other shoulder, leaning his fuzzy head against yours.

“Whats wrong?”

You wiggled a little. “I'm just having a hard time brainstorming how to do this. I know I said I'd help you guys, but I might not be able to use as much magic as last time. To be honest, I don't really know much about my mana and my limits…” you explained your situation. Expecting there to be disappointment, you were surprised to find none.

“I can’t help but think… How long will this last? One spell isn’t going to cut it for that long. I want to create something that will last for you guys, but that might take a while… and doing just this took all the mana I had. I want to do better. But I don’t want to hurt myself either, especially when I don’t know how this could affect my health in the long run…” The bee-men seemed to be catching on.

“Of course, little one. We wouldn't want you to harm yourself.”

Lyith also popped up, his voice almost in your ear.

“Us Bee-men also have something like mana. Our magic is not never ending. We would have fixed this situation ourselves if it was.”

Rena reached forward and grabbed your hand, giving it a reassuring pat. “We don't have to do anything today. We can commence whenever you'd like. Our flowers have spread out beautifully and even this is enough.”

You frowned.

“I may have to do this every spring. Or even redo it in the summer…”

“You don’t owe us anything. You are trying your best to do us a kindness. And our hive knows and sees that. We are beyond grateful to you… Its… We’ve needed…We are truly grateful.” His expression fell at the mention of his hive, his antennas drooping. Rena moved forward and held Lyith, a sad expression on her own face.

There was a pause in conversation that grew somewhat awkward.

How do I make this better? You tried to brainstorm, but only one thing came to mind.

You went over and gave the both of them a big bear hug. It was a tense one, but you tried to adjust your emotions, instead concentrating on how fond you had grown of the two. You tried to shout it as loud as you could through your brain at them.

This seemed to break the spell, as Rena started to laugh. Lyith looked at you affectionately.

“I know we haven't known each other long, but I just want to say, you can count on me. If you ever need to talk about anything let me know. I'll listen.”

Rena and Lyith hummed in response, returning your group hug with a long squeeze.

Long hugs. The favorite actions of a Bee-men.

After some quiet reassurances, the two of you decided to idle while the two foraged on the edge of the Wood. You walked with them and asked them as many questions you could think of. How old were they? Were they able to do other magics? You had thought Bee-men to be isolated. How come they knew so much about human culture?

Lyith was the one who answered you most of the time. It seemed that bee-man typically lived double the life of a human, with Rena and Lyith being about 45, and 51, Lyith being the oldest. They were in the same season of life as you though!

Bee-man could do some other magics(they didn't go much into what), but they specialized in making their magical honey, which fortified the health and wellbeing of a Bee-men.

They didn’t say it outright but it seemed like the dip in magic had affected the nutrition of their food source. They kept their own bees and shared honey, but it still wasn't enough, so they had ventured out into human society to buy fruit when it was necessary. They also did trade with neighboring beast-men, the Wolfmen being happy to share their fruit for their Bee’s wax waste. I

“What exactly do you guys do for fun though?” You asked, trying to lighten the mood.

Lyith smiled. “Late night flying is fun.”

Rena snorted. “You mean late night spying. Lyith has a habit of looking through people's windows.”

Lyith wrinkled his nose at Rena. “If they did not want to be seen they would have drawn the curtains. It's not strange, I am just curious about human life is all.”

Rena reached forward and pinched Lyiths nose. “Poor thing. So bored he must make mischief.”

You looked at Lyith with surprise. His big eyes grew in concern and he pouted at you.

“You are not going to tease me too are you? I promise, I never see anything scandalous. I'm a good little bee.” He fluttered his eyes at you.

You giggled and pushed his shoulder.

“As long as you're not spying on me I guess it's harmless.”

Lyiths expression shifted to one of his dopey smiles. It always surprised you how innocent he could look despite his size. Was it maybe…

“So… I may have read that you guys are telepathic right?”

Renas face changed into a smirk.

“Yes, and?”

“ Well, have you guys ever… used your powers on me?”

Rena snorted. Lyith gave you an unreadable expression. “We Bee-man are very particular about sharing our heads outside of our hives. But no. We haven't done anything to you if that's what you meant…”

Oh. He was pouting now.

“No! Thats not what I meant! I just… i feel so comfortable around you guys it's almost supernatural. I just. Idk. Wanted to know. Please I didn't mean anything by it!”

Lyith wrinkled his nose at you and Rena continued to seem amused. You felt helpless and got a bit upset with yourself. You did your best to calm yourself down but you were upset. You had so few friends here and you were afraid you blew it. A wave of loneliness swept through you.

Lyith was watching you the whole time, before sighing. “All will be forgiven if you give us some of those fruit tarts you made yesterday.”

You looked at him, shocked.

“I thought you said you didn't spy on me!”

“I wasn't spying, I just happened to be foraging by the window, and smelled something amazing. It was all incidental.”

“There's sugar in the crust. Won’t your tummy get upset?”

He just smiled. Rena laughed. “He named his price. For offending us, we must get fruit tarts.”

Finally feeling better, the three of you walked(they let you walk!!!) Back to your home. You served them up your tarts, when finally the questions started coming about you. Why did you move here? Do you have any siblings? What were you like as a child?

This went on until dinner time, at which point you decided to shoo your new friends away. “ I'll be back to do the flowers tomorrow. We… we will see what I can do.” You admitted. The two of them smiled at you, hugging you tight for a good three minutes. They always lingered, nuzzling your face and hair, as if they were getting a whiff of you. You could smell their own perfume and tried not to think too much. Their goodbyes always felt so intimate.

Rena decided to pepper your face in kisses before they left. Lyith just rolled his eyes at her. When they drew apart you felt empty, like some piece of you was going with them.

***

As always, Lyith picked you up that morning. This time, you made sure to bring a scarf and hat, alongside emergency snacks in your bag. Where he was taking you next was a little longer of a trip, a whole ten minutes to the usual six. That was a long time when you were hurtling through the air.

You were surprised to drop into a small crowd. There were ten Bee-men present besides Rena, who seemed to be communicating silently with them. The air was full of bee noises; humming, purring, the fluttering of wings. The air smelled amazingly fresh, floral and syrupy. It was an odd smell, but it seemed to put you at ease somehow. And maybe a bit peckish.

A Beeman a whole foot and a half taller then Rena fluttered towards you. They bowed, of which you awkwardly returned before they reached forward and took your hand gently. Lyith started,

“This is Elder Bisou. He is the eldest of our hive. He is showing you respect.”

Elder Bisou smiled at you. “Little Witch, I welcome you to our territory. My human is a bit… unused. Please receive our thanks for your efforts.” He took your hand and leaned down so that it met his temple. You could feel the rush of his magic, like your mind was a fish bowl and he was putting a gentle hand on the glass. You could feel his warmth, his deep gratitude through it.

Your back straightened and you felt water prick your eyelids. You gave him a slow nod, becoming acutely aware just how serious this whole situation actually was. Rena and Lyith had been dancing around it, but the Bee-men must be slowly starving to death. That was the only explanation for the depths of what you had felt.

“I will do my best.” Was all you could reply.

Lyith, acting as your translator, took you to each Bee-men he could and introduced you. It seemed that some of the elders, as well as some of those who had free time had come to watch the “little witch” work. Most took your hand gently, and sent you a ghost of what their emotions were. There was a sort of film around the emotions, a barrier of sorts. Whether this was on purpose so you wouldn’t be overwhelmed, or just how their telepathy worked, you couldn't tell.

You did your best to not let your nerves get to you as you dissected the sections of the field where you would be doing your experiments. You didn’t know how these particular flowers would take to your spell, so it was still best to be cautious. The bee-men looked on with interest.

You did your chants in a loud booming fashion, and channeled in as elegant a fashion as you could. Like always, the magic came, and the spell did its work. These flowers were different, like rainbow colored lavender. Rather than letting the magic gush through you, you let it gently trickle out, pacing yourself. When the deeds were done, you still felt sore, and you still held a headache in your temple, but there was no nausea, so growth!

Once you were done with your work, there was a large excited buzzing throughout the forest. There was clapping, dancing, stomping of feet, pumping of many hands, whoops from Rena and Lyith. One Bee, a worker named Aidenn held a small wooden instrument in his hands and started to play. This triggered a chorus from the Bee-men. There was a harmonizing among the crowd and they started to circle each other, laughing and dancing. A circle of flying, spinning Bee-men formed.

Rena grabbed you by the waist and hoisted you onto her shoulder before joining in the circle of the dance. You giggled as you spun, feeling the giddiness in the air like it was laughing gas. That same pressure filled your mind and a part of your heart started to soar. It was intimate, but not stifling and you loved feeling so close to everyone.

You lifted your hands and, feeling in the spirit, decided to hum along. At some point Rena had taken you in her arms and held you close as they continued to fly in a circle, spinning and perrying, and switching. It was similar to square dancing, where there was a pattern to it.

At one point, the tune changed and Lyith swooped down from above and grabbed you out of Rena’s arms. She snorted at him but let it happen, joining hands with another passing Bee-men. When Lyith gathered you in his arms, he cradled you as close as possible, surprising you. One hand was gripping firmly around your waist and the other crushing you to him. He landed on the ground, and the rest of the bee-men followed, causing something of a ballroom dance.

“You did wonderfully today.” He breathed in your ear, causing them to redden. You pulled yourself back a bit to see his face and he was looking at you with such pride and affection it felt like a weight crushing your chest. You moved your hands from his shoulders to reach his own hands. You were shaky, but you wanted to return his feelings somehow. His palms were soft.

This caused him to laugh, a purring sort of trill coming from his throat. You couldn’t help a silly grin form on your face.

“I’m glad you came to my garden.” Was all you could think to say.

He looked at you, with those big black eyes, then reached forward and kissed you on the lips. It was only a peck, but you could feel his joy through it.

Something complex within you, a mix of happiness, excitement, hope, all of your feelings rose up into your throat. Unable to find the words to express yourself, you took all of those big heavy emotions, wrapped them all up together and kissed him back, right there, in the middle of your makeshift dance floor.

When you pulled away Lyith looked shocked, his bottom lip hanging open. Adorable as usual.

Rena hollered from the otherside of the gathering, sending out a big whoop. There was laughter, buzzing and an echoing whoop from some of the younger bee-men. Elder Bisou made some clicking sounds, but the sides of his mouth were slightly upturned.

It occurred to you then that you were in the middle of a group of very telepathic monster people. Your cheeks grew hot in embarrassment and you pulled away from Lyith a bit. Your shoes suddenly became very interesting.

Lyith eventually turned your chin back up to face him. He held a small peaceful smile, before bumping his forehead to yours. He didn’t share his emotions but the affection was still there.

After you grew too tired to dance, you took a seat under a tree, munching on a granola bar. Another one of the Bee-men, a younger drone named Haven, made his way to sit next to you.

“I don’t know if it was mentioned, but honey production has picked up enormously since you agreed to help us. I haven’t felt this great in… well ever! Thank you little witch!”

“I’m not little, but thank you for saying so.” You were starting to get a bit lightheaded now, and not from the dancing. It was possible that some of the symptoms of mana sickness were surfacing a little late.

“You are strong! That is true! Even elder Bisou has said he hasn’t met a human or beastman with mana like yours!” Haven turned his voice down to a whisper, as if he was sharing a secret, “Your magic smells so much like flowers, really, its a huge blessing! In fact, I would eat you up if I could!” He laughed as if he had made a joke. He sighed and looked up dreamily at the sky. “Alas, I am saving myself for when we find our queen.” He wrapped his arms around himself, as if to fend off imaginary suitors.

You wrinkled your nose. “Queen? You don’t have a queen? Isn’t that super bad for bees, I mean bee-men?”

Heaven tilted his head at you, reminding you of Lyith.

“Of course. That's why we are all so small and weak.” You stared at him in shock. He put up his hands. “We are doing well though! It's been 20 years since our queen died but we are still here! Oh! There is a hive up north! Any day now, one of their queens' daughters might descend and bless us! Or.. Or we--”

“Little One! You seem like you're getting sick!” Rena Descended from above and put a hand to your forehead.

“You are far too warm! Haven, mind if I take her out of your wings?”

Heaven looked up at Rena, his face a mask of confusion. He eventually gave in though and stood up.

“I should check on Elder Bisou! He might need something!” His voice was flat, obviously fake, but he ran away- flew away with gusto.

Rena took your face into her hands, tilting your head back and forth. Your lightheadedness turned full on dizzy. Rena’s face screwed up in an annoyed expression.

“You overdid it. And after that whole speech about not knowing your limits too..” She gently put a hand on your back and picked you up princess style. You would have been embarrassed, if your brain was functioning properly. Instead your gaze fixed on Rena’s beautiful iridescent wings. The lights were so lovely and they helped ground you. Honestly, everything about Rena was lovely. Well, maybe lovely wasn’t the right word. She was rough around the edges. A tease and a know it all. But she doted on you so, it made you feel a bit overwhelmed. Your gaze shifted from her wings to her lovely nose, pretty sharp for a bee-men.

Rena started conversing with Lyith about you, pointing her jaw and humming. Huh. Rena was actually incredibly attractive. You had known that before. Maybe it was something about how dizzy everything was. The last time you had felt this way she had been kissing you, her textured tongue pushing nectar down your thoat-

“Little One”

Your mind immediately focused. She was using a demanding tone.

“Lyith will take you home. Next time, we will only do one spell at a time.” She leaned forward and placed her cool lips to the side of your mouth. Making you blush. Well your face was already heated so you would have blushed. “I will see you again soon. Rest.” And she was off.

You were in Lyith’s arms again. A place you were starting to get comfortable in. He stared at you for a moment, his lips pursed, then sighed loudly. He held your gaze for a moment.

“I do not like this habit you are forming. You will not get sick again, understand?”

You nodded at him, mind hazy. Sleepy. You were sleepy.

You didn’t register the fly home, only that the coolness felt nice. You were carried from the porch, into the living room, up the stairs, and laid on your bed. You were covered in warm, delicious blankets.

You never saw Lyith leave before you passed out. Probably because he tucked himself in right beside you, the cool air washing over both of you from the open bedroom window.

Part Four

#monster fucker #monster lover #monster #monster x reader #terat0philliac #teratophillia #bee hybrid #bee hybrids #bee hybrid × reader #bee hybrids x reader #monster romance #bee monster #monster fluff #fluff

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jm-2406 · 5 months

Note

Hi! I saw that your requests are open and I read your rules. Can I request a Theordore Nott with a Hufflepuff reader? A Hufflepuff who is quiet, but not shy. Like she speaks when spoken too or whenever she deems it necessary. Maybe they get grouped together in a project or something where they cross paths. Preferably fluff. Thanks love

You're feisty.

Summary - a study session ends with a confession.

Pairing - Theodore Nott x Hufflepuff! reader.

Word count - 775.

Note - I think I strayed a little and my work is rusty, I've written after a long break. I hope you like it.

Warnings - none.

Requests - open || find my work - here.

Being in hufflepuff was a good as well as tiring experience. Your housemates were cheerful and had a positive vibe, most of them were smart and badass but to others, you guys were portrayed as a bunch of smiles and laughs. The most common assumption that other houses had regarding you was that they thought you were shy, sweet and naive but you are not, you are just quiet and enjoy your alone time. It was a given that most of them who tried to bother you or make fun of you were pleasantly shut down and put into place. And on such days, your friend Hannah would find you in a sour mood.

“What happened now?” She asked curiously after seeing your grumpy expression. You shook your head and mouthed ‘potions’. That was enough for her to guess what might have happened. You shared potions with the Slytherins and one of them always bothered you because he considered himself as an expert in the subject just because of his house when in reality he was not. As you guys were about to sit down and relax, someone's footsteps caught your attention. To your left stood Theo, the boy with whom you were paired up, courtesy of professor Snape.

“Need to discuss something.” He said plainly and turned around. You didn't know what he was expecting but still stood up to follow him. Hannah looked at you with wide eyes and a smirk, knowing well about your crush on the tall boy. “Out of my league.” You would say but she was convinced that he liked you back.

Theodore led you to one of the quiet spots in the library. You took a seat in front of the windows while he wandered off to select the books needed for the potions assignment. After a few minutes he came back with not one but three thick books making you chuckle and the tall Slytherin graced you with a rare smile of his own. It made your heart flutter.

“All good, badger? You sure this is a study session and not a tutoring program for yourself?” A nasty voice interrupted your study session. You were too deep in the books to notice him the first time.

“What do you want, Codnor? We're busy here.” Theo said to his housemate. The boy continued to stare at the two of you until you finally snapped.

“Codnor, please go to madam pomfrey and get your eyes checked. They're stuck at our table, I think that might be a serious issue.” He looked at you with a very displeased expression but before he could retaliate, Theo had gotten up and made him leave.

When he returned, he saw you mumbling and couldn't hold back his laugh. “Stop it.” You whispered angrily. Theo raised his hands in surrender and took his seat. “You know [Y/N], there's something about you that I might've guessed wrong.”

“What?” You looked at him confused.

“I thought that you were one of those shy ones but you're not. You're feisty. I like that. I like you more now.” An awkward moment followed after his unexpected words. Theo cleared his throat and tried to find the right words.

“What do you mean, Theo? You're not teasing me, are you? Because that's a little evil considering you know how I feel.”

“No. I'm not. I'd never.” He reassured you. “And I know about how you feel.”

For the first time since you reached Hogwarts, you saw Theo at a loss of words. “Are you saying that you feel the same?” You asked him quietly, hesitantly.

“Merlin! Yes. I am not good with words but I'll try. [Y/N] [Y/L/N], i am infatuated with you, your personality and intelligence add to your charm. Will you do me a favour by being my girlfriend and making me the happiest man alive?” He forwarded his hand, palm up, to you.

You blinked in shock then did a little dance while sitting on the chair because you couldn't shout in the library. “Yes. A thousand times yes.” You placed your hand in his. He brought it up to his lips and placed a chaste kiss at the back of your hand.

The rest of the afternoon went away peacefully and by the end of it, you ended up in Theo's lap, sharing your first kiss.

THE END.

#writers on tumblr #theodore nott x reader #𝐣 𝐰𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐞𝐬 #theo nott one shot #theo nott x reader #lorenzo zurzolo #harry potter #theo nott fanfiction #slytherpuff #slytherin boys #slytherin x hufflepuff #requests

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lila-lou · 2 months

Text

✨ His second exception - Pt. 5/? ✨

Summary: The moment Ben found out you were pregnant was probably the happiest moment of his life. However, happiness proved fleeting. Now, he is faced with the aftermath of his shattered dreams. Of what is left of you, and what is left of him.

Pairing: Soldier Boy x Reader

Warnings: 18+ only! Smut, Language, Ben being hurt, Reader being hurt, soft Ben, sad Ben, Reader having another stupid idea

Word Count: 6701

A/N: This is the sequel to “His only exeption” - and Part 5 of "His second exception".

English isn’t my first language, so please be lenient. 💙✨

It had been 12 weeks since you lost your baby. Last week, Ben finally got rid of the broken furniture, a small step towards healing. Today was your first day back at work, and you felt a mix of anxiety and determination as you walked into the meeting room.

Ben had just announced you as his personal assistant, a decision that caught everyone off guard. You sat beside him at the head of the table, feeling the weight of the gazes from around the room. Annie and Butcher exchanged glances, their expressions unreadable. Frenchie, however, couldn’t contain his excitement.

"Ah, it’s about time! Soldier Boy is back!", Frenchie exclaimed, a wide grin spreading across his face. "And now Butcher can suck it!".

Butcher scowled but didn't respond, his eyes flickering between you and Ben. Annie offered you a small, encouraging smile, but there was a hint of concern in her eyes.

Ben, sensing the tension, leaned forward, his presence commanding the room’s attention. “Let’s focus on what’s ahead and get back to work”.

You nodded in agreement, trying to project confidence even as your heart raced. The meeting continued, and you took diligent notes, immersing yourself in the tasks at hand. Despite the challenges, you were determined to prove yourself and support Ben.

After the meeting, as everyone was filing out, Butcher lingered behind. He walked over to you, his expression serious. “You sure you’re up for this?”, he asked, his voice low.

You met his gaze, nodding firmly. “I am”, you replied. “I need this”.

Butcher nodded slowly, seeming to accept your resolve. “Alright then. Just… take care of yourself”.

“I will, thanks”, you assured him.

As you turned to leave, Ben placed a reassuring hand on your back. “You did great”, he murmured.

Even though Ben wanted you to have a table in his office, you insisted on having your own space. You needed a bit of independence and the chance to carve out your own niche. Ben reluctantly agreed.

As you settled into your new office, organizing files and setting up your workspace, you heard a soft knock on the door. Looking up, you saw Annie standing in the doorway, her expression warm but concerned.

“Hey”, she greeted you with a small smile. “Mind if I come in?”.

“Of course not”, you replied, gesturing for her to take a seat. “What’s up?”.

Annie sat down, glancing around your office before meeting your eyes. “I just wanted to check on you”, she said gently. “It’s been a tough few months, and I know today must be a big step for you”.

You nodded, appreciating her concern. “It has been tough, but getting back to work feels… necessary. It helps to have something to focus on”.

Annie nodded in understanding. “I get that. Sometimes, keeping busy is the best way to cope. But don’t forget to take care of yourself, too. If you ever need to talk or take a break, I’m here for you”.

“Thanks, Annie”, you said, feeling a lump in your throat. “That means a lot”.

Annie hesitated for a moment before continuing. “I also wanted to ask… how are things with Ben? He still seems a bit off”.

You sighed, moving to the small couch in your office and gesturing for Annie to join you. She sat down beside you, her concern evident.

“He wants to try for a baby again. And since I told him I wasn’t ready, he’s been pretty grumpy and closed off. I don’t know how to deal with it”.

Annie nodded slowly, processing your words. “I understand where he’s coming from, but… you barely made it through the first few weeks of your last pregnancy. It was so hard on you”.

You nodded, feeling the weight of her words. “I know. And the doctors have assured us that the V medication is ready this time, but that’s not the problem. The problem is… I can’t get.. intimate. My mind keeps telling me it’s wrong, like I’m betraying the memory of our baby”.

Annie reached out, placing a comforting hand on your arm. “I understand you”, she said softly, her eyes full of empathy. “But that’s not how it works. You aren’t betraying your baby by trying to move forward. Grieving and healing can coexist. It’s okay to want happiness again, to want a future”.

You looked down, feeling a mix of relief and confusion. “But it feels like if I let go, if I move on… it’s like I’m forgetting him.. or her. Like I’m erasing what happened”.

Annie shook her head gently. “You’re not erasing anything. Your baby will always be a part of you, a part of your life. Moving forward doesn’t mean forgetting. It means carrying that memory with you and finding a way to live with it”.

You sighed, the weight of her words sinking in. “I want to believe that. I really do. But it’s just so hard”.

“I know”, Annie said, her voice full of understanding. “Healing is hard, and it’s not a straight path. There will be good days and bad days. But you have to give yourself the grace to feel what you’re feeling without guilt”.

You nodded slowly, feeling the tension in your chest ease just a bit.

Annie took your hand, squeezing it gently. “You and Ben need to have a real conversation”, she said softly. “Lay down all your feelings, and try to understand each other. You need to help each other through this”.

You nodded, taking in her words. It was easier said than done, but she was right. You couldn’t keep avoiding the difficult conversations.

Annie hesitated for a moment, then continued. “You know, when Homelander attacked you… Ben was devastated. He thought he was going to lose you. He couldn’t stop himself from trying to save you, no matter the risk”.

You swallowed. You knew Ben had been worried, but you hadn’t realized the depth of his fear.

Annie sighed, her expression conflicted. “I hate to admit it, but I see now how much he actually loves you. He’s rough around the edges, but it’s clear he’d do anything for you”.

“I know he loves me. It’s just… complicated”.

Annie nodded. “I still have doubts about a supe baby, though. The risks for you are real, and I worry about what might happen. But if the V medication works and having another baby would help you and Ben move forward, I’ll do anything to support you”.

You felt a lump in your throat, the mix of emotions almost overwhelming. “Thank you, Annie. That means a lot. Really”.

She gave your hand one final squeeze before standing up. “Just promise me you’ll talk to him. Really talk to him”.

“I will”, you promised, watching as she left your office.

As the door closed behind her, you took a deep breath, trying to gather your thoughts. Annie’s words echoed in your mind. It was time to have that difficult conversation with Ben. You knew it wouldn’t be easy, but it was the only way to start healing and moving forward.

Later that day, as you were digging through some files in your office, you felt a presence at the door. Looking up, you saw Ben standing in the doorframe, his arms crossed as he watched you with a faint smile on his face.

It took a moment for you to register his presence fully. “Hey”, you mumbled, your attention shifting back to the files. “You and the team have a meeting with the President tomorrow evening”.

Ben raised an eyebrow, a smirk playing on his lips. “Already got the President on speed dial, huh?”, he said, his tone cocky. “You’ve settled into this position pretty damn fast”.

You couldn’t help but smile at his teasing, the tension between you easing slightly. “Well, someone has to keep you and the rest of the team in line”, you replied, closing the file and looking up at him.

Ben chuckled, stepping further into the office. “Looks like you’re already making yourself indispensable… But seriously, how are you holding up?”.

Your smile faltered slightly, but you appreciated his concern. “I’m managing”, you said softly. “It’s a lot to take in, but it helps to have something to focus on”.

He nodded, moving closer until he was standing right in front of your desk. He looked down at you, licking his lips before speaking up. "You ready to go home?", he asked, his voice low and gentle.

You glanced at the clock, realizing how late it had gotten. "Yeah, I think I'm done here for the day", you replied, starting to gather your things.

He grumbled under his breath, running a hand through his hair. "If I hear one more complaint about Butcher insulting someone, I'm gonna smash some damn doors", he muttered, his frustration evident.

You couldn’t help but laugh softly at his irritation. “Butcher’s got a talent for pissing people off”, you said, shaking your head. “But let’s just get out of here before you end up breaking something for real”.

Ben’s expression softened at your laughter. “Good idea”, he agreed.

As you stepped inside your house, you immediately pulled off your heels, sighing in relief. Ben walked straight through the little hallway, clearly eager to relax after the long day.

“Ben”, you called out, a hint of exasperation in your voice.

He paused, rolling his eyes slightly before turning around. “I know, I know”, he muttered, placing his shield down and pulling off his boots like you always told him to. “Happy now?”.

You smiled, feeling a bit of the day’s tension melting away. “Yes, much better”, you replied, hanging up your coat. “Thanks”.

Ben grunted in response.

You made your way to the bathroom, starting to undress. As you looked at yourself in the mirror, you sighed. Your stomach was perfectly flat again. Shaking off your thoughts, you gathered the new shampoo you recently bought and stepped into the shower. The warm water cascaded over you as you hummed your favorite song, trying to let the tension of the day wash away.

Lost in your thoughts, you didn’t hear the bathroom door open. Suddenly, you felt two big hands cupping your hips from behind, making you jump slightly.

Ben’s voice was a low growl in your ear. “Since when the fuck do you not call me to take a shower anymore?”. He sounded slightly grumpy.

You turned your head to look at him, a small smile playing on your lips. “I didn’t know you wanted to join”, you teased lightly. “I thought you were tired”.

“I’m always tired”, he grumbled, his hands moving up to your waist, pulling you closer. “Doesn’t mean I don’t want to be with you”.

You leaned back against his chest, feeling the warmth of his skin against yours. “Well, you’re here now”, you murmured. “So why don’t you help me with my back?”.

Ben reached for the shower gel, lathering it in his hands before gently massaging it into your back. His strong fingers worked in soothing circles, easing the tension from your muscles. As he continued, his hands gradually wandered lower, to your lower back, eliciting a content sigh from you.

You couldn’t help but tease him. “Getting a bit adventurous there, aren’t we?”, you chuckled softly, your eyes closing in pleasure.

Ben’s chest rumbled with a low chuckle. “Just trying to be thorough”, he replied huskily, his hands kneading gently. His touch was both comforting and arousing, and you melted into his embrace, letting the warm water and his ministrations ease your mind.

“Mmm, well, I appreciate the thoroughness”, you murmured, leaning back into him. The steam from the shower filled the small space, creating a cocoon of intimacy between the two of you.

Ben’s hands stilled for a moment, and he pressed a gentle kiss to your shoulder. “I love you”, he whispered, his voice filled with sincerity and affection.

“I love you too”, you whispered back.

Ben’s hands brushed over your sides, his touch light but deliberate as he slowly moved them up, tracing the curve of your ribs. Your breath hitched, and your heart raced as his hands continued their journey upward, finally reaching your breasts. It had been weeks since he had touched you like this, and the sensation was almost overwhelming.

You leaned back against him, feeling the steady thump of his heart against your back. His fingers were gentle yet firm, and you could feel his breath warm against your neck. The combination of the hot water and his touch sent shivers down your spine.

Ben’s voice was low and rough, filled with longing. “I miss this”, he murmured, his hands continuing to explore your body. “I miss you”.

You struggled with your feelings, caught in a storm of emotions. The warmth of his touch, the familiarity of his embrace—it was all so intoxicating. Yet, your mind was in turmoil, screaming at you to stop, to remember the grief, to not allow yourself this moment of vulnerability and pleasure.

Your body responded on its own, the wetness forming between your thighs a stark contrast to the cold grip of your sorrow. You wanted to let go, to be with him fully, but the weight of your loss hung over you like a dark cloud.

“Ben”, you whispered, your voice trembling. “I don’t know if I can…”.

He paused, sensing your hesitation, and pulled back slightly, turning you gently, to look at you. His eyes were filled with understanding and a hint of frustration. “I get it”, he said softly. “I don’t want to push you”.

You bit your lip, torn between your desire for him and the guilt that gnawed at you. “I want to be with you, I really do. But it feels like… like I’m betraying our baby by moving on”.

Ben’s expression softened, and he cupped your face in his hands, his thumbs gently brushing away the tears that had started to fall. “You’re not betraying anyone”, he said firmly. “Our baby will always be a part of us, but we need to find a way to live again. Together”.

You searched his eyes, looking for reassurance. His sincerity and love were undeniable, and for a moment, you felt the walls around your heart begin to crack.

“Just… be here with me”.

You nodded, feeling a small spark of hope. “Okay”, you whispered back, leaning into his touch.

Ben kissed you gently, a promise of patience and understanding. As the water continued to cascade around you, you allowed yourself to relax into his embrace, taking comfort in the fact that you didn’t have to face this journey alone.

Ben’s hands wandered to your ass, cupping it firmly as he lifted you effortlessly. You wrapped your legs around his waist, feeling the strength in his arms as he supported you. He pressed you against the cold tiles, the chill a stark contrast to the heat of his body against yours.

His lips found yours again, the kiss hungry and demanding. You could feel his need, his desire, in every movement. His other hand roamed over your back, holding you securely as his hips pressed into you, creating a delicious friction that made you moan softly into his mouth.

Your hands gripped his shoulders, your fingers digging into the hard muscles as you held on. The mix of sensations – the cold tiles, the hot water, Ben’s solid presence – was intoxicating.

Ben’s lips left yours, trailing down your jawline to your neck. He nipped and sucked at the sensitive skin, making you shiver with pleasure.

You moaned his name, trying to tell him to stop, but the words hesitated on your lips. You wanted to enjoy it, to give in to the passion, but a part of you still resisted. As Ben’s erection pressed against your belly, you felt a surge of panic mingled with desire.

With a trembling hand, you pushed his chest back slightly. His mouth left your neck as he took a deep breath, his eyes filled with a mix of frustration and concern. You could see the effort it took for him to hold back, to keep his annoyance in check. After more than 12 weeks, his patience was wearing thin, but he didn’t want to hurt you.

“What’s wrong?”, he asked, his voice husky with restrained need.

You looked away, feeling a mix of guilt and confusion. “I… I can’t”, you whispered, your voice barely audible over the sound of the shower.

Ben’s hands, which had been gripping your hips, relaxed their hold. He stepped back, giving you space. You landed back on your feet.

You could see the disappointment in his eyes, but he masked it quickly, trying to be understanding.

“Okay”, he said, his voice softer now.

Tears pricked at the corners of your eyes, and you hated how conflicted you felt. “I’m sorry, Ben. I really am”.

He shook his head. “Don’t be. It’s fine”.

Ben kissed the top of your head gently, a gesture meant to reassure you, and you stepped out of the shower. Wrapping a towel around yourself, you glanced back at him. He stood still under the stream of water, his head bowed.

“Are you coming?”, you asked, nodding toward the door, trying to keep your voice steady.

Ben mumbled, “I’ll be out in a few minutes”.

You bit your lip, feeling a pang of guilt and self-reproach. You knew exactly what he was up to, and it tore at you that you couldn’t give him what he needed right now. You felt a mix of frustration and sadness as you left the bathroom, closing the door behind you softly.

The moment you were gone, Ben let out a deep, shuddering breath. His hand moved to the base of his dick, gripping it tightly. The frustration and desire that had been building up for weeks came to the surface.

His head leaned against the cool tiles, closing his eyes as he pictured your body, the way you felt under his touch. His mind replayed the moment in the shower, the intimacy they had shared so briefly. He wanted you so much, it ached.

With a deep sigh, Ben started to stroke himself, his hand moving with increasing urgency. The frustration and desire that had been building up for weeks surged through him, desperate for some sort of relief. The feel of his own touch was a poor substitute for you, but it was all he had right now.

His mind drifted back to the times when things were simpler between you two, when intimacy wasn’t tainted by grief and hesitation. He imagined your soft moans, the way your body responded to his touch, the heat and closeness of your shared moments.

The more he thought about you, the more his need intensified. His thumb brushed over the swollen tip of his dick, sending shivers of pleasure through his body. He began to stroke faster and with more pressure, his hand moving with a desperate urgency.

He closed his eyes, picturing you beneath him, a moaning mess. He imagined the feel of your body wrapped around him, your skin hot and slick with sweat. In his mind, he could see the way your eyes would half-close with pleasure, the way your lips would part to let out breathless moans.

Ben’s strokes became even more frenzied as he pictured himself buried deep inside you, your legs wrapped around his waist. He could almost hear your voice, begging him to make you come, the sound driving him closer to the edge. He imagined the way you would arch your back, your nails digging into his skin as you came apart beneath him.

His breathing grew ragged, and he bit his lip to stifle the sounds threatening to escape. The pressure built to an almost unbearable peak, and with a final, shuddering gasp, he found his release. His body convulsed with the intensity of it, and he leaned heavily against the tiles, his mind still filled with images of you.

As the aftershocks of his release faded, a sense of emptiness settled over him. The physical relief was a temporary balm, but it did little to ease the deeper ache of longing and frustration. He turned off the shower and dried himself off, trying to push the conflicting emotions aside.

He wanted so desperately to help you heal, to bring back the intimacy you once shared. But he knew it would take time, and he needed to be patient, even though it was difficult.

Leaving the bathroom, he found you sitting on the edge of the bed, still wrapped in your towel. You looked up as he entered, your eyes filled with a mix of emotions.

Leaving the bathroom, Ben found you sitting on the edge of the bed, still wrapped in your towel. You looked up as he entered, your eyes filled with a mix of emotions. You knew what he had done, and you couldn’t even be mad at him. Instead, you were mad at yourself, feeling like a bad girlfriend for not being able to give him something so simple.

Ben was still tense, his body language showing he was still on edge despite his release. He hesitated for a moment.

“You okay?”, he asked, his eyes searching yours.

You nodded, but your heart felt heavy with guilt. “I’m sorry, Ben”, you whispered, your voice thick with emotion. “I know it’s been hard on you, and I hate that I can’t…”.

He interrupted you. “Don’t apologize”, he said firmly. “It’s not your fault”.

Tears pricked at the corners of your eyes. “I just feel like I’m failing you… again”, you admitted, the words spilling out in a rush. “I want to be close to you, but every time I try, it’s like I hit a wall”.

Ben sighed deeply, running his hand through his wet hair. He hesitated for a moment before walking over to you and squatting in front of you, taking your hands in his. His grip was firm, but you could feel the desperation in his touch.

“Please, tell me what you need”, he nearly begged, his voice raw with emotion. “How can I help you? It’s been over 12 weeks, and you’re still so sad. I hate seeing you like this, and I’m trying to be patient, but I need the old you back. I don’t know how much longer I can handle it”.

You looked into his eyes, seeing the pain and longing etched there. It broke your heart to see him like this, knowing he was suffering too.

“I don’t know what to say, Ben”, you whispered, your voice trembling. “I’m trying to move forward, but it’s so hard. I miss the old us too, more than anything. I want to be close to you again, but every time I try, I feel this overwhelming sadness and guilt”.

He squeezed your hands, his eyes pleading. “What can I do? Just tell me, and I’ll do it. I want to help you, to make things better. I need you, more than you know”.

You took a deep breath, trying to steady yourself. The idea that had been simmering in the back of your mind suddenly seemed like the only solution, even though it terrified you to voice it out loud.

“Maybe…”, you began hesitantly, your voice barely a whisper. “Maybe you should just…force me”.

Ben raised his eyebrows and he pulled back slightly, his grip on your hands loosening. “What?”, he asked, disbelief and concern mingling in his tone.

You looked away, ashamed and uncertain. “I know it sounds crazy, but I feel like I’m stuck in this cycle of fear and guilt. Maybe if you push me past it, I can break free. Maybe that’s what I need to start healing”.

Ben shook his head and stood up, his face contorted with a mix of anger and incredulity. “The fuck I will!”, he exclaimed, his voice echoing sharply in the room. He raised an arm in frustration, then quickly lowered it, trying to rein in his emotions.

“If I do that”, he continued, his voice still tense, “you’ll hate me. And then what? We’ll be worse off than we are now. I can’t… I won’t do that to you”.

You stood up, clutching the towel tightly around yourself, desperate to make him understand. “Ben, please. I know it sounds extreme, but I feel like I’m drowning here. I don’t see any other way to break out of this. I need something drastic to push me through this wall I’ve built”.

He shook his head again, more vehemently this time. “No. You’re asking me to hurt you, and I can’t do that. I fucking promised you I won´t ever do that again!”.

“But it’s the only way I can think of”, you insisted, your voice breaking. “I trust you. I know you won’t really hurt me. I just… I need to feel something other than this constant sadness”.

Ben’s eyes softened for a moment, the anger melting into something more like sorrow. “You don’t know what you’re asking”, he said quietly.

You took his hand, looking up at him with pleading eyes. “It’s not that I don’t want it, Ben. Don’t you think your kisses or your touch don’t do anything to me? They do. It’s just that last bit I can’t get over”.

Ben rolled his eyes, halfway shaking his head in disbelief. He looked down at you, his expression a mix of frustration and concern. “I know exactly how this will go”, he said, his voice steady but filled with tension. “You’ll beg me to stop after just a bit, and if I keep going, you’ll hate me. Even if you’re begging me now, and even if I don’t hurt you physically, there’ll be so much emotional damage. I can’t risk that”.

By now, you had both of his hands in yours, gripping them tightly. “Please”, you begged quietly, tears welling up in your eyes and spilling down your cheeks. And there it was—the sight of you in tears, which always made Ben weak.

He stared at you, his resolve wavering. “I don’t want to hurt you. I want to help you heal, not make things worse”, he said softly, his voice filled with pain.

Your tears flowed freely now, and you looked at him with a desperate plea. “I trust you, Ben. I know you won’t really hurt me. Please”.

Ben sighed heavily, his shoulders sagging under the weight of your plea. He bit his tongue, trying to contain the turmoil swirling inside him. Carefully, he pulled you close against his chest, his chin resting gently on the top of your head. The warmth of your body against his, the scent of your hair, it all flooded his senses.

He had promised himself he would never hurt you again, and now here you were, asking him to do just that, tears streaming down your face. His heart ached with the conflict of wanting to ease your pain and protect you from any harm.

His mind raced, torn between his love for you and the fear of causing irreparable damage. He wasn’t sure what was right anymore, what he should do to help you heal. His thoughts circled back to the countless conversations, the nights spent awake wondering how to bridge the gap between you.

“I…”, Ben began, his voice thick with emotion. He paused, gathering his thoughts. “I want to help you, more than anything”, he finally said, his words measured and gentle. “But hurting you isn’t the answer”.

Ben sat down on the edge of the bed, his gaze fixed on you. His expression softened, filled with a mixture of tenderness and concern. He took a deep breath, his hands resting on his knees.

“Take that off”, he ordered gently, nodding towards the towel wrapped around you.

You hesitated, unsure of his intentions. His voice was soft, but his request felt loaded with unspoken emotions. Slowly, you untied the towel, letting it fall to the floor beside you. You stood there, exposed and vulnerable, waiting for his next move.

Ben stood up, closing the distance between you. He reached out, his fingers brushing lightly against your skin as he traced the curve of your shoulder. His touch was gentle, almost reverent, as if he were afraid you might break.

“I can’t do this the way you’re asking”, he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper. “But I can be with you in another way”.

With careful movements, he lifted you up and gently placed you on the bed, the cool sheets beneath you contrasting with the warmth of his touch. Your breath hitched, your chest rising and falling heavily with anticipation and uncertainty.

Ben climbed onto the bed, positioning himself above you. He pulled off his own towel, letting it fall to the floor. As he settled between your thighs, you felt a rush of heat and longing. His presence was comforting yet electrifying, a mix of familiarity and the unknown.

He leaned down, his lips finding your neck. He started to kiss you softly, each touch gentle and deliberate. His lips moved from your neck to your collarbone, trailing a path of warmth and tenderness. Your body responded to his touch, your skin tingling under his kisses.

Your hands found their way to his back, feeling the tension in his muscles. Ben’s kisses became more insistent, his breath hot against your skin. He took his time, exploring every inch of your neck and shoulders, making you feel cherished and desired.

You closed your eyes, letting yourself get lost in the sensation. Ben’s hands roamed over your body, caressing and soothing, his touch a promise of more to come. He shifted slightly, adjusting his position to be closer to you, his hips pressing gently against yours.

"You okay?". His voice was filled with concern and tenderness. You nodded, your body craving more, yearning for his touch.

Ben's hot hardness pressed against your most sensitive spot, sending another wave of heat rushing through your body. But instead of moving forward, he continued to kiss your body, his lips tracing a path down your ribs and over your stomach. As he did, he felt you tense up, a small shiver running through you.

Without any words, he understood. He kissed back up toward your chest, his movements slow and deliberate. For him, it was pure torture. He could smell your arousal, his own need building to an almost unbearable peak, but he didn't push you. He knew how fragile this moment was, how important it was to go at your pace.

His lips found their way to your breasts, placing soft, gentle kisses around your nipples. His hands caressed your sides, moving in soothing circles, trying to ease the tension from your body. You arched into his touch, a soft moan escaping your lips.

He paused for a moment, looking into your eyes. "I love you", he whispered, his voice thick with emotion. "And I want you to feel safe with me".

You nodded again, your eyes filled with a mix of gratitude and longing. "I do, Ben. I do".

Ben resumed his kisses, moving down to your stomach again, his hands never leaving your skin. His touch was reverent, almost worshipful, as he kissed every inch of you, making you feel cherished and desired. He wanted to show you that his love was unwavering, that he was willing to wait for as long as it took for you to be ready.

As his kisses moved lower, your breath hitched, your body responding to him in ways you hadn't expected. He could feel the heat radiating from you, and it took everything in him to hold back, to not give in to his own desire.

But he did, because he loved you. And that love was stronger than any physical need.

Ben paused at the top of your thighs, looking up at you for permission to continue. You nodded, your heart racing with anticipation. He kissed your inner thighs, his touch sending shivers through you, every kiss intensifying the heat building inside you.

"Tell me if you want me to stop", he mumbled against your skin, his voice a low, soothing murmur. His lips inched forward, closer and closer to your glistening clit, each kiss bringing a new wave of sensation.

You trembled beneath him, every nerve ending alive with anticipation. "I will", you whispered, your voice shaky with a mixture of desire and nervousness.

His breath was warm against your most sensitive spot, and when his lips finally brushed against your clit, a soft gasp escaped your lips. The touch was gentle, almost hesitant, but it sent a jolt of pleasure through you, making you arch your back slightly.

Ben's tongue flicked out, teasing you with light, careful strokes, testing your reaction. He kept his movements slow and deliberate, reading your body, making sure you were comfortable with each step. His hands held your thighs gently, spreading you open for him, his fingers caressing your skin.

"Is this okay?", he asked, his voice barely audible between his soft kisses and strokes.

"Yes", you breathed, your hands gripping the sheets beneath you. "Please, don't stop".

Ben continued, his tongue moving with more confidence now, exploring you with a mix of tenderness and passion. Each movement was designed to build your pleasure slowly, to make sure you felt every single sensation. He wanted to bring you to the edge and back, to make you forget everything but the feeling of his mouth on you.

As the pleasure built, you felt your body responding, your hips moving instinctively against him. The sounds of your soft moans filled the room, blending with the rhythmic beat of your heart.

He didn't rush, savoring every moment, every reaction. His own arousal was nearly unbearable, but he focused entirely on you, on making you feel cherished and loved. He wanted this to be more than just a physical release; he wanted it to be a step toward healing, a way to rebuild the connection between you.

Ben's tongue circled your clit, his movements becoming more intense as he felt you getting closer. He looked up at you, his eyes filled with love and devotion, silently asking if you were okay, if you were ready to let go.

You felt yourself on the brink of climax, every nerve in your body alive with anticipation. But just as you were about to let go, something inside you snapped. Panic surged through you, and your hands found Ben’s shoulders, pushing him weakly away.

“Stop”, you breathed, your voice shaky.

Ben looked up at you, his face a mask of desperation and confusion. But he just nodded, his eyes filled with concern and disappointment, and pulled away. He sat back on his heels, breathing heavily, his own arousal evident and unfulfilled.

You felt a mixture of relief and frustration wash over you. His mouth had made you feel so good, almost too good, and your mind couldn’t handle it. The sweet release you had been on the edge of was now just out of reach, leaving you feeling empty and conflicted.

“I’m sorry”, you whispered, tears welling up in your eyes. “I just… I couldn’t”.

“It’s okay”, he said, his voice strained. “I understand”. But the look in his eyes told you how much this was affecting him, how hard it was for him to hold back and not push for more.

Ben wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and took a deep breath, trying to steady himself. He lay down beside you, his body tense and his mind racing. You sat up slightly, your breath coming in shallow gasps as you tried to calm the whirlwind of emotions inside you.

Your eyes met Ben’s, and you saw the strain in his expression, the way his jaw was clenched and his chest heaved with each breath. You could tell he was trying to keep it together, to be strong for both of you.

“I’m really sorry, Ben”, you repeated, your voice a mere whisper. “I don’t want to hurt you”.

He shook his head slightly, reaching out to gently touch your arm. “You’re not hurting me”, he said, though you both knew it wasn’t entirely true.

You bit your lip and lay back beside him, but as he was about to pull you close, you turned your back towards him. The guilt and shame weighed heavily on you. You felt like a tease, making him suffer once more. You couldn’t bear to look at him, afraid of the disappointment and frustration you might see in his eyes.

Ben’s hand hovered in the air for a moment before he let it fall back to his side. He sighed softly, the sound heavy with unspoken words and emotions. He wanted to comfort you, to tell you that it was okay, but he knew that words might not be enough right now.

You felt the bed shift as he moved closer, his warmth seeping into your back. He didn’t touch you, respecting your need for space, but his presence was a silent reassurance that he was there for you, no matter what.

“I’m not going anywhere”, he said quietly, his voice steady despite the turmoil you both felt. “We’ll get through this. Together”.

You closed your eyes, letting his words wash over you. The shame and guilt were still there, but his unwavering support made them a little easier to bear. You knew you needed to find a way to bridge the gap between your desires and your fears.

“I just need time”, you whispered, more to yourself than to him.

“And you’ll have it”, Ben replied gently. “As much as you need”.

Silence settled over the room, filled only with the sound of your combined breathing. You focused on the rhythm of it, trying to calm your racing thoughts.

Ben kissed your bare shoulder softly, his lips brushing against your skin in a gesture of tenderness. He closed his eyes, his body still facing your back but refraining from touching you further.

Minutes passed in silence, each second heavy with unspoken words and unfulfilled desires. You could sense Ben’s struggle to contain his own feelings, to respect your boundaries while yearning to bridge the gap between you.

“I love you”, he murmured softly, his voice barely audible in the quiet room.

Tears pricked at the corners of your eyes, overwhelmed by the depth of his love and understanding. You turned your head slightly, meeting his gaze over your shoulder. His eyes held a mixture of sadness and unwavering devotion, a silent promise that he would wait for you, no matter how long it took.

“I love you too”, you whispered back, your voice thick with emotion.

Ben nodded slightly, a faint smile touching his lips. He leaned forward, pressing another gentle kiss to your shoulder before settling back against his pillow. His hand moved tentatively towards yours, hesitating for a moment before intertwining his fingers with yours, his thumb brushing soothing circles on the back of your hand.

———————————

A/N: Please let me know what you think. 🥰

Part 6

Taglist: @deangirl96, @thatgirljayy, @suckitands33, @deans-spinster-witch@mimaria420@kaz11283@uncle-eggy@jackles010378@vxnilla-hxrddrugs @meowmeowyoongles@sarahgracej @zemosdarling228 @leila22rogers @mostlymarvelgirl@emily-winchester @blacknoirr @onlyangel-444@seasonofthenerd@staple-your-mouth@artemys-ackles@selfdestructionandrhum@mystic-mara @kat-nee @samanddeaninatrenchcoat @star-yawnznn @me1501 @CheyNovaK @faephoria @hobby27 @baby19sthings @fitxgrld @winchesterwild78

#jensen ackles #soldier boy #soldier boy x reader #the boys #soldier boy x y/n #soldier boy x female reader #his second exception #soldier boy x you #soldier boy fanfiction #the boys soldier boy

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mostlymarvelsstuff · 11 months

Text

NSFW Alphabet: TCYM, Omega Nat

Authors note: this is my first nsfw alphabet, and I really hope you guys enjoy! If this is something you'd like to continue to see with other fics of mine, please let me know!

TCYM Masterlist Nat Masterlist Marvel Masterlist

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

She's very soft after sex, wanting to be cuddled and cared for. She loves being held close to her Alpha, wrapped up in your strong embrace as you scent each other and you whisper praises to her. Whenever you run a bath for her afterwards, she insists that you join her because, though she won’t say it out loud, she just needs you close by.

She never wants you to be left out in aftercare either so she makes sure to reassure you that you made her feel good and took good care of her. She likes to run her hands through your hair, or rub your back as the two of you cuddle. Giving you kisses is also a necessary thing for her.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

Her breasts are definitely her favorite part of hers. They're just so sensitive since she's had Dima, and having them played with just feels so good. Especially when you suck on her swollen nipples after teasing them. And the feeling of her Alpha drinking from her is nothing like anything she's experienced before.

Her favorite body part of yours is your arms. Not just because she loves when you wrap them around her but because of how muscular they are. She loves how easy it is for you to manhandle her during sex, how effortlessly you can carry her, and how turned on just flexing your muscles makes her.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

Though she's shy about admitting it, she loved the taste of her own cum. Back before she had a mate, when her heats would hit, she’d spend a lot of time just cleaning her essence off her toys and fingers after pleasuring herself with them.

Your cum, she's crazy about it. Of course her most favorite place for it is her pussy, she loves the feeling of it filling her up and dripping out of her. But she also enjoys its taste. Having you fill her mouth and pour down her throat leaves her a needy mess for you.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

She secretly wishes to someday be able to peg her Alpha. The idea of being the one inside you, causing you so much pleasure that your cock hardens and leaks before you end up blowing your load drives her insane.

She's thought about it a lot, and is currently working up the courage to ask you about your interest in such a thing.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

The only experience she had before Bruce forced himself upon her was with a vibe and medium sized dildo in the comfort of her bedroom. That being said, she was no longer allowed such toys after Bruce got a hold of her. Still, she knows a lot of what she likes and doesn’t like, but she still has a few things she wishes to explore.

With you, she knows a fair bit about what she's doing. She can easily turn you on, work you up and make you feel good, but there's still a few kinks and interests she's yet to discover.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

Her favorite is missionary, as she loves the intimacy of having you so close to her and highly enjoys being able to look up into your eyes as you pound into her.

But she's also a big fan of doggy and cowgirl. 😉

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

She's truly a mix. She can be quite serious, able to focus only on the combined pleasure of the two of you. But she can also be silly, usually feeding off of you if you are. She's able to laugh and joke about funny things that happen. But nearly all of the time, she's just very soft.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

She keeps herself trimmed, as having hair down there doesn’t bother her, she just likes to keep it neat. And yes, the carpet matches the drapes.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

She's very romantic. For her, it's all about loving words and actions as well as the pleasure. Even in heat, when she's consumed with need, she cares more about romance than she does a quick fuck.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

She currently feels incredibly guilty when masturbating. Because, though it was a rather normal occurrence in her college years, that all stopped with Bruce. He viewed it as disgusting and when he caught her, he would be very mean. He became violent and would break and throw things while calling her a whore. Ultimately, it just further proved how fragile his ego was, and how inferior of an Alpha he is.

You, on the other hand, are trying to get her back into exploring herself. You've assured her multiple times that it's healthy and normal and it would never upset you, and you've even helped her pick out a few things to try. Though she's still a bit hesitant she has at least given into the urge a few times.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

She loves being praised, it's probably her favorite. She’s also into small bits of degradation as long as you're possessive about it. Such as: “My slutty Omega”, “My good little cumwhore” and so on.

Another big one for her is her lactation kink that you share with her. She loves the feeling of your mouth on her nipples, and knowing that you're turned on from tasting her milk makes her feel so good.

She's yet to try this one with you, but she's absolutely turned on by the idea of double penetration. She wants to feel you deep in one of her holes while you use a toy to fill the other one.

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

While with pup, her nest is her absolute favorite place. She loves how soft it is and how it has the perfect mix of her scent and yours. But she also enjoys it in bed, mostly because your scent is super strong there.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

Any breast stimulation from you is an instant turn on. Sometimes a possessive grab of her hips will have her swooning as well. Your words are good at it too. Not just dirty talk either, but things like “good girl” or “my good Omega” are basically like pushing a start button. Oddly enough though, even seeing you being a good parent to Dima can turn her on.

Currently, with her high hormone levels, just seeing your muscles flexing or your bulge in your boxers is enough to have her aching with need.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

Impact play, choking, and weapon play are definite off limits due to everything she's gone through at the hands of Bruce.

Anything more than mild and still loving degradation is also off limits.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

She enjoys receiving oral. The feeling of your mouth on her most sensitive parts never fails to fog her brain. And when you add your fingers to the mix, you’ll have her coming undone in no time. And you look so hot with her cum on your face.

She also enjoys giving oral. She loves making you feel good with her mouth and tongue. Looking up at you to see the look of pleasure on your face while getting to feel your cum spill down her throat always leaves her soaked.

Her skill level is decent. She can easily make you feel good and always has you cumming, but she does still struggle at times to take your full length and she doesn't always know what to do with her hands. But she's learning.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

She usually enjoys it slow and sensual, but recently she's become more open to the idea of trying it fast and rough on occasion.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

She loves quickies, and while pregnant they are a very frequent occurrence. When not pregnant, she still enjoys them, but she's not as often.

To her, it just shows how in love the two of you are that you just can’t seem to keep your hands off each other whenever thoughts tend to wander.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

She's willing to experiment, but with Dima in the house it's a bit harder to be risky about what's done and where it's done. That being said, she’d love to try having sex in your car and in the backyard under the stars.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

She has impressive stamina, even while pregnant. Sometimes she can go multiple rounds over several hours. This is practically doubled when she's in heat. But like all things, it's not always the case. There are days where one round is more than enough for her.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

Yes, she owns toys. Though using them was much more common when she was back in college and without a mate. With Bruce toy owning and usage was absolutely off limits, but you're trying to get her comfortable with the idea of using them. There's no shame in toys.

You’ve bought her a vibrator, some nipple clamps, and a dildo specifically made to look and feel exactly like your cock. You know they interest her, as you have used them on her and she really enjoyed them. But solo play is understandably still hard for her.

And unknown to you, she's also bought a harness and dildo in the hopes that she’ll get to use them on you some day.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

She enjoys teasing you quite a bit. Your natural dominating actions and soft possessiveness turn her on a lot, and she finds that you really let that show when she does something to you.

She’ll do things like purposely: bend over naked in front of you, wear something to show off her milk enlarged tits, brush her ass or hand across your crotch, say something suggestive while looking up at you through her lashes, pump out her pheromones in order to overwhelm your senses, and start touching herself when she knows you’ll walk in and catch her.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

Having a pup, she's learned to control her volume. But when alone, she lets herself lose control. She can be very loud. She moans, whimpers and purrs a lot during sex. But her favorite thing to do is moan your name, so you know how good you're making her feel.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

She's very eager to try roleplaying. Specifically with you in your security uniform from work. Something about seeing you in your element stirs something inside her, and all she can think about is you ‘detaining’ her and fucking her senseless.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

She has some old scars from her rough childhood before Melina and Alexei adopted her, but thankfully they're few in number. During college she had her belly button and nipples pierced, but she hasn’t worn any of her jewelry since becoming pregnant with Dima. Where her neck meets her collarbone is her claiming mark from you that covers up her now faded one that Bruce forced upon her. She has a small red star tattoo on her right ankle, to symbolize her Russian upbringing. Yelena has a matching one.

Her breasts are larger than they’d normally be as she's making milk for multiple pups now, and there is of course a swell to her belly where your pup is currently growing.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

Currently, it's through the roof. Having pups inside her has her horny very often, and the only thing that can help her find relief is her Alpha.

Usually, she has her horny moments, sure, but she can contain herself until Dima is out of the house or nighttime comes around. Unless it's during her heats, during that time it's just easier to have Yelena watch the pups so you can give her your attention and sex almost constantly the whole time.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

Currently, very quickly. Being with pup already takes a lot out of her, so once she cums she's pretty spent. And then, having you cuddling her just affirms how safe and loved she is, so it's very easy for her to just nod off.

Usually though, she doesn’t tire so easily. She can go a few rounds with you and still has energy to spare. Letting her attend to other things that either need done or is just something she wants to do.

Taglist: @naslt @lattayhottay16 @yelenabelov-ed @thatonebrazilian @that-one-gay-mosquito @marvelwomen-simp @wannabe-fic-reader @tashakink @whitewidowsbite @smromanoff @wandaromamoff69 @mmmmokdok @nataliasknife @natashasilverfox @when-wolves-howl @danveration @naomi-m3ndez @sheneonromanoff @sayah13 @likefirenrain @nighttime-dreaming @readings-stuff @chaoticevilbakugo @crystalstark02 @wackymcstupid @xchaiix @iaminluvwithnat @lovelyy-moonlight @blackwidow-3 @mistressofinsomnia @that-one-gay-mosquito @yomamagf @yourfavdummy @justarandomreaderxoxo @scoutlp23-blog @whoischanelle15 @lissaaaa145 @eline03 @wizardofstories @imthenatynat @marvelonmymind @fluffyblanketgecko @bitch-616 @dakotastormm @zoomdeathknight @rayeofmoonlight @aeroae @sashawalker2

#natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha x y/n #natasha x reader #omega!natasha romanoff #omega!nat #a/b/o fanfic #a/b/o fic #a/b/o universe #a/b/o dynamics #a/b/o #marvel #fanfic #marvel fanfiction

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luveline · 1 year

Note

Hiiiiii!!! Since it’s back to school season you should write a blurb where Steve and Reader get emotional sending Avery to school for the first time in your KBD universe!!

thank you for your request ♡ kisses before dinner —you and steve have a tumultuous morning on avery's first day of school. mom!reader, 3k

"Oh, fuck," Steve mumbles into his pillow, cheek wet with drool. "Shit." He drags his face up to look at the alarm clock for the third time that morning, having slept on and off for hours. He can't believe he's awake again.

"I think you have to admit defeat," you say softly from the vanity. Steve turns, finds you sitting slouched with a brush in your hands, applying powder to your cheek carefully. "I couldn't sleep either."

Steve groans at his ever present back ache and sits up. The comforter falls down into his lap, his naked chest exposed. He scratches at his collarbone mindlessly. "You think it'll be really hard?" he asks, knowing you'll know what he's saying. You always do.

You put down the brush, turning a very sympathetic smile his way. "I think it will be awful. But you'll be okay, Steve. She needs to go. And she's excited!" You nod toward Avery's room. "Can't you hear her?"

Steve gets up without checking for himself. He slinks out of your bedroom and onto the landing, where Avery's door is ajar.

"Hey," he says, opening the door with his foot. "You okay?"

Ash blonde hair like a riot around her face and pyjamas in disarray, Avery sees Steve in the doorway and beams, doing a wiggly half dance by her dresser. "Daddy! It's my first day at school!"

"I know," he croons, or attempts to, his voice still hoarse from sleep. "I'm just gonna shower, and then we'll start getting ready. You hungry?"

"Are you still gonna do my hair like mommy's?" she asks.

"Yeah, just like mom's."

Steve's reassured by her smile even if he's feeling about as anxious as the day he found out you were pregnant the first time (ecstatic, terrified, in love and bricking it). He showers in three minutes, an expert in the art of wicked fast washing and in anticipation of Dove's imminent waking. Sure enough, he's crossing the landing back to the master bedroom with a towel around his waist when a cry sounds from behind him.

You appear in the doorway dressed for work and somehow prettier than you were yesterday. It doesn't fade no matter what people say, Steve still has a huge crush on you, and it feels like a gift to have you stroke a line down his tacky arm as you pass.

"I have it, handsome." You take a step back and he pauses on instinct. Your hand cups his face. "It won't be as bad as you're thinking. I promise." You stroke his cheek. "Yeah?"

"I'm fine," he lies.

Dove cries louder. You take your hand back. "Okay. Get dressed. I'll make breakfast."

Steve does as he's told. Bethie tries to barge into the bedroom while he's changing, and he laughs at her dejected sigh. "It's not opening," she says, nearly three and a half and sounding it, her voice still cutely disjointed.

"I'm just getting dressed, Beth. Mommy's making breakfast, you want waffles or something?"

"I can't get down the stairs," she mumbles. Steve almost misses it.

He throws a shirt on and yanks a comb through his hair. Bethie's standing expectantly by the door when he opens it, your image completely. Steve's seen the rare baby photo of you and he's surprised every time; you could switch it out with a photo of Bethie and he's sure he wouldn't notice, though her nose might look a little different.

"Hey, pretty girl. Trapped?"

"They'd left me up here with you," she says.

Talkative this morning, he thinks. "I can see that. Excuse me then, babe, and we'll get this gate open."

Steve hates the baby gates. He doesn't think they're necessary, but he knows he'd think that until the day one of his poor girls took a dive. You hate them too for being so finicky. Maybe in a couple of months when Dove's walking you'll take them down.

He opens the gate and takes a few steps, holding a hand out for Bethie. Fingers wrapped around hers, they descend the stairs and approached the second dreaded baby gate where Avery's waiting. She pinches the lock and pulls up the handle for them surprisingly easily.

"Thank you," he says to her, stepping over the lip of it and assisting Beth down those last few steps. She wobbles.

"Dad, when can we get ready?" Avery asks.

Steve checks his watch. "Uh, soon as you finish breakfast."

"I finished already."

"No you didn't!" you call. "Come on! Come and eat this egg before it goes cold."

"I wanted a waffle," Avery says.

"Don't tell me, tell your mom. I'm sure she'll make you something else."

Avery spirits away. Steve watches her go and decides maybe he can't do this after all, sweeping Bethie into his arms to hug close to his chest. "Don't grow up, Beth. Promise?"

She looks at him lovingly. "Promise." She offers her tiny pinky.

You're not so stressed in the kitchen. Or, Steve may not think so. Inside you're a ball of agony. You're acting as normal as you can, knowing Steve will take the change harder; he's spent almost every hour of every day with Avery for nearly six years, to suddenly have her gone will feel wrong, and strange, and achy.

He'll understand how you feel going to work every day. Missing your family becomes a second feeling that trails behind you, not always sad, but there nonetheless. You'll be sitting at your desk wishing a little back was pressed to your chest, or that there were a hand in your hair. Or, when things are especially boring, you long for a whiny shout, "Mommy!" said over and over.

It isn't his fault, of course, and it's not even the thing that's hurting. Just. Avery's getting older no matter how much you wish she'd stay the same, for a day, an hour. If you could just stop time and hold her for a bit, you'd feel better.

Time doesn't stop. You make her a waffle and eat her cold egg, Dove spits up on your blazer and you have to get changed. Steve struggles to get Avery ready in her bedroom while Bethie crowds his legs, and you can't help. Your second blazer has a peach juice stain and the third has been personalised with a blue marker. You can't find anything to wear.

You scrub the spit up off of the shoulder in the bathroom and trudge to Avery's room to ask Steve if he can tell.

Avery's standing in front of her mirror, and she looks perfect.

And she looks so old.

Surprise spreads like a bruise, like you've been winded, a flat palm pressing with force against the gentle structure of your diaphragm. You grip the blazer in your hands until the fabric squeaks, eyes on Avery's hair, her shoulders, her new dress and shoes. She spins on her heels when she sees you in the mirror and poses proudly.

"Doesn't it look nice, mommy?" she asks.

You frown at her. Your breath catches in your throat, your eyes turning warm, your whole face. "You look really nice, sweetheart," you say, blinking to dispel the moisture in your eyes before it can turn to tears."Daddy did a good job."

"Are you okay?" Avery asks.

You try to turn your frown to a smile, the expression one Avery isn't used to seeing. Panicked, she looks to Steve, who's already looking at you tenderly.

"I'm sorry," you say. It aches in your cheeks. Being a parent means hiding how you feel when it's bad, but you're grasping at the air for a reassurance that isn't there. She's never going to stop getting older. And this is a beautiful thing in reality.

Right now, it's terrifying.

"You look lovely," you say, swiping at tears as they tip. "I'm really sorry, Avery, I'm okay. You look so beautiful, honey."

Steve crouches down by Avery's side, hands on her waist. "This is going to sound silly, because you're so excited about going to school, but me and your mommy are just a little sad."

"You're sad because I'm going to school?" Avery asks.

You nod, shame-faced, "A bit."

"Well, I won't go," she says in confusion.

You close the distance between you and hold her chin in your hand. "You have to go! I want you to go, I promise. I want you to meet new friends, and learn new things. I can't wait for you to see the whole world."

"Then why are you crying?" she asks.

You push your thumb into the corner of her mouth and make her smile. "You'll understand when you're older," you say.

She groans. "Mom, I want to know now."

"I can't explain it." You kiss her soft forehead. "Sorry." You kiss her forehead again. "Sorry. You really look beautiful, and I know you're going to have a good day. They won't know what to do with you."

You arranged to start work late so you can see her off for her first day and help if drop off becomes too much for Steve to do alone. Now that Avery's old enough for school, she'll need to be dropped off and picked up everyday, and your working hours don't allow for you to do it. This means Steve will have to get all three girls ready every day. They can't wait in the car by themselves. It's a lot more than he's used to doing, which isn't to say he doesn't keep his girls clean and clothed in fresh jammies. He takes them grocery shopping and to the movies and Aunt Robin's house by himself all the time, it's not a difficult task (most of the time) but it takes work. It's going to be a lot for him.

He can do it, obviously. You just wish you could be more helpful. You tried to talk your boss into an earlier start time so you could finish in time to grab Avery and save him the trip, but it meant you'd start work at 6AM. Nobody would be there to let you in, and it was deemed 'unfeasible'.

You worry about it on the ride there. Three girls in car seats, you in the front, they're hard to handle. Avery's far away in the very back, the third row, while Dove whines in the second, Bethie behind you asking if she can come and sit in your lap.

"Sorry, lovely. Two minutes, okay? Two minutes and we'll be there."

Steve shouts over your placating, "How are you feeling, Avey-Bear?"

"I feel good, dad!"

"It's the left entrance, right?" Steve asks you.

"Yeah, with the big crayon mural. Dove, I know! I can see it! Is it too tight? Let mommy have a look."

You lean through the seats. Steve takes a hand from the wheel to hold your side up and stop you from collapsing forward as you fiddle with Dove's seat straps. This chaos cannot be a good sign, you think.

You pull into the lot. Kids are everywhere, hundreds of them flooding toward the elementary school like ants carving paths through grass and sidewalk. The air smells like pine trees as you step out of the car.

While grizzly, you're pleased to find that your girls look good. Smart, well-loved. You grab Bethie, her seat behind yours, and Steve takes Dove. Avery unclasps her own car seat and climbs over the second row to slide out by your legs.

"Nice job, babe," you say, holding up your hand. Avery high fives you.

Soon as Steve's ready, you take Avery's hand with Bethie perched as a heavy weight on your hip. She's too big to need carrying and you'll have to put her down sooner rather than later, but for now you hold her, mind racing as she asks, "Mommy, do I go with Avery?"

"No, sweetheart, I'm sorry. Avery's going by herself."

And what the fuck? you think, looking down at Avery where she squeezes your hand, the skirt of her dress swishing side to side as she skips. How can she be doing this by herself? She doesn't seem old enough. How can anybody expect her to do this?

Bethie rests her cheek on your shoulder. "That's OK. I want to be with you."

She's not going to be pleased in another half an hour, then, but that's a future problem.

Steve trudges behind you like a man walking to his death. You're not exaggerating when you think to yourself about how pale he's gone, his cheeks devoid of any colour.

You follow the path past the school gates and into its playground. Most kids stay waiting with their parents while younger ones crowd the jungle gym, though there are some you recognise from playgroups and the local playground. You've accidentally cut it a bit close, not expecting the girls to be as hard to get into the car as they'd been, and the bell rings to call everyone inside only thirty seconds later.

Children call goodbye to their parents. Avery had an orientation day a little while ago and knows where she has to go, but for the first time that morning, she hesitates.

"You okay?" Steve asks her.

She looks between you both and her sisters with a funny kind of smile. Altogether too grown up. "Will it be okay?" she asks.

"What, school?" he asks. "School is going to be awesome. You are going to have so much fun."

She licks her lips, thinking. You step forward ro fuss with her hair, every bit of it perfect. She looks up into your face and you plaster a smile over your worries. The longer you look at her, the more authentic it becomes.

"You make things amazing everywhere you go. School won't be any different," you promise.

"Quick, kiss before you go to the classroom," Steve says.

You get yours first. Avery goes on tiptoes to kiss you, then Bethie, who laughs. Steve crouches down to get his, stealing a too-long hug with her as Dove wriggles under his arm.

"Love you." Steve pats her shoulder. "See you in a couple of hours. We'll go get a treat for you being this brave."

Avery holds her lunchbox to her stomach and nods excitedly. "Okie dokie. I love you." She waves at Dove. "Bye-bye, Dove."

Dove looks at Avery like she's an alien. Her confusion lasts, lips puckering into a pout as Avery races toward the school door and disappears from view.

"Ready to go?" you ask Steve gently.

"I think I'll just… we'll just wait for a bit, in case she forgot something."

You fight another wave of heat as it gathers behind your eyes. Steve looks so sad that it's making you sad too. "Sure, honey. Let's wait a bit."

You aren't expecting Avery to have actually forgotten something, but she rockets from the door looking terrified. Steve seems surprised that she really needed something too, though he doesn't waver.

"We're still here," he calls as she runs up to you.

"Dad," she says, breathless, putting her hand on his knee, "what do I say?"

"To who?"

"To the other girls!"

Steve rubs her cheek with a forefinger fondly. "Hello is a good start. You could say… Hi, I'm Avery Harrington. I have two little sisters, a pet fish, and my favourite colour is lilac."

She nods like she thinks this is a great idea. "I'm Avery, and I have two sisters and my fish and my favourite colour is lilac," she repeats verbatim. "What about you and mom?"

Steve blinks, pleased. "Uh."

You grin, saying, "What about, my mom and dad are best friends?"

Avery nods again, little chin dipping severely. "My mom and dad are best friends. Okay. Okay, thank you, I'm going back now."

Steve steals another kiss before she can run off. "Have a good day, honey."

"I will!" she shouts, spinning on her heel. You listen to her leave, her lunchbox making a metallic clicking sound, her shoes squeaking on paving stones.

She's gone a full minute before either of you attempt to leave, a strange silence between you. Eventually Steve wraps his arm around your shoulders, and you make your way back to the car.

"You okay?" you ask him.

He's pink around the eyes, but he says, "I'm okay. She looked really excited, right?"

You kiss his cheek. "It'll be alright."

"I know. Just feel really fucking weird."

Bethie claps a hand over her mouth with a little pop. Steve imitates her, eyes glowing with bemusement. "Who said that?" he asks.

She giggles in that syrupy way kids do when they know they're doing something naughty. "That's a bad word."

"I'm allowed one bad word today, Bethie. They said so."

"Who?" Bethie asks.

Steve shrugs his shoulders. "I don't know. You expect me to know everything, little miss, how'm I supposed to know everything?"

Bethie wraps an arm behind your neck.

"What's he doing to you?" you ask, arms on fire from carrying her this long and with no intent to put her down. "Daddy's not being very nice, is he? Asking my little girl all these big questions."

Your soft crooning has her like jelly in your arms. Steve relaxes in turn looking at her, his hands petting at Dove's back. "They're ganging up on me," he says to her, in a similar sweet tone, searching Dove's face for some affection. "You're not going to pick their side, are you?"

Dove pouts for a kiss.

Steve is ecstatic, Dove never so generous. He kisses her gently, and rubs his forehead against hers to tickle her with his hair.

"Mommy's gotta go to work," you remind him.

"Do you?" he asks, not looking up from Dove's affection.

"Unfortunately."

"They're taking my girls from me one by one. I thought missing you every day was bad enough, now I don't get my Avery… I hate everything."

"I know. It doesn't feel this awful all the time, I promise."

He makes a grateful sound. "I'll take your word for it. Thanks, honey."

You squeeze his bicep. "You're welcome."

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ryukenzz · 2 years

Text

Muzan Kibutsuji - SFW & NSFW Headcanons

[Note: Relationship Headcanons of Muzan Kibutsuji from Demon Slayer. Reader will be human and a regular citizen for this scenario. Will contain NSFW and slight manga spoilers (just one) so minors/anime-onlys, please do not interact.]

SFW:

Oooooo wee. Mr. Grumpy for a Living himself. Being in a relationship with Muzan can be.... interesting. It can be a lot of things. He can act "generous" and spoil you like a princess or just outright mean as hell. Either way, you'll be treated more as a pet/prized possession than an actual partner.

Muzan, or Tsukihiko, first met you while he was on a stroll with his beloved "wife and daughter." You were minding your business, and the demon just couldn't keep his eyes off you. Of course, the demon chastised himself for even looking at anyone like that, much less a mere human. But, longer he had his eyes on you, the more he wanted to know about you. So, he began planning your move into his castle and his life. This Demon King wanted his Queen. Well... to be more accurate....

He was in need of you.

From your point of view, you noticed Muzan's intense gaze on you that night. To say you weren't fazed by it would be a bold-faced lie. You tried to shake off his glare, but something within you made your eyes turn towards his. The shivers that enveloped your spine, the slight hitch in your breath and body language, none of it went unnoticed by him. Those ruby red eyes of his.... it's like they put you in a trance. One that made you want to know more about him.

The next time you saw Muzan was during a local event in your village. As you went to approach him, the alarm bells in the back of your mind began to ring. Your logic was telling you to stay away from this man at all cost. Deciding to put those thoughts behind, you approach the demon and introduce yourself. Muzan was a bit surprised that you made the first move, but all it did was make his plan of having you that much easier. Giving you a warm smile, he returned your gesture and bowed politely.

“It's a pleasure to meet you as well, (Last Name). I'm Tsukihiko. I apologize for my staring the other night.”

Such a suave liar.

From that day on, a steady friendship ensued between the two of you. Friendly trips to the market, hangouts at local events, night walks in the village. All of it made you come to like Muzan even more. To the point that those feelings became rather.... loving. Initially, you felt guilty for even developing them. The thought of being with a married father made you feel icky. But, being the oh so attentive person that he is, Muzan took note of your inner dilemma and immediately knew how to dissolve those worthless worries. All it took was a fake smile and gentle reassurance.

“(Name), I've come to sense that you're worried about Rei. Well, I can say that it is not necessary. We got a divorce as of recent, and she took our daughter with her. A factor of why is due to what I am.”

Muzan then told you about him being a demon. How he had to consume flesh to survive. This new information made you feel highly conflicted, to say the least. Before you could even process his confession, you heard a twang and found yourself surrounded by a multitude of buildings. You go to question him, but what you saw made your body freeze. Those ruby red eyes you fell for were now a harsh, blood red with slits. The caring Tsukihiko was really the ever atrocious Muzan Kibutsuji, the King of all Demons.

The devilish man stood in front of you, caressing your cheek gently, despite the look of possessiveness in his eyes. It was at this moment that you knew what you were dealing with. It terrified you, but.... it also intrigued you. It only made you fall deeper in love with him. Which is exactly what he wanted. “From this day on, you are mine, and mine only. No demon or man is allowed to be in your prescence, much less look at you. Such filth shall not matter to you. Ever. Do you understand.”

As most people say, Muzan has achieved the rich status and will pretty much spoil you. Anything you want, he's already at the place, cash in hand. That kimono you were eyeing? Already in the closet. A piece of jewelry you talked about getting? He's already putting it around your neck. This man has bought you so much stuff that you feel like a spoiled princess rather than his s/o.

Affection is very rare with him. He's not exactly the romantic type, but when he's in the mood for your touches, he'll just stop you from whatever you were doing and sit you in his lap. He'd caress your thighs and deliver small kisses to your neck. He would hold you tight, almost clingy, but these moments always made your heart flutter.

NSFW:

Now, you know this man is experienced. He's lived for over a thousand years, plus he had five wives in the past (though he treated them like complete shit). Muzan has the knowledge and skills to make the human body experience the ultimate pleasure.

If it weren't for Muzan's ability to hold himself back, he would've jumped on you then and there. The site of the soft ropes decorating the canvas that was your body made him aroused. He decided to heighten the experience by blindfolding you. The demon began to circle you, using the tips of his fingers to stroke the skin of your tummy, goosebumps appearing in their trail. He then moved them to your lips, letting them invade your mouth. You happily sucked on them, a soft moan emitting from you. An amused smirk formed on Muzan's lips.

“Such greed you have. Are you so reluctant to suck on my fingers? Perhaps my cock would be a better option for you then? Hm?”

It seemed his statement went straight to your core. As he stood in front of you and adjusted the rope to spread your legs, Muzan chuckled at the sight of your pussy drooling. Kneeling down, he delivered a series of kisses to your clit while sliding his middle and ring fingers in. To say you were a whimpering mess was an understatement. A combination of not knowing when or what he'd do, plus the feeling of his slender fingers, your cunt sang a song of joy for him.

Muzan is definitely big. He's definitely a good 9 inches and would increase its size to a 10. His cock has veins on both sides, and a pretty pink tip. You didn't know how you were gonna make it with a monster like that, but no worries. Muzan will make it fit. It's why this activity is done with you and you only. Your pussy is the only thing that's capable to handling him.

Your heart jumped a bit when you felt your body being suspended a couple inches off the bed. Was this man really about to fuck you stupid like this? Taking off his clothes, Muzan stood on the bed and used the tip of his dick to tease your entrance. You whined at him to stop the tease and get on with the show. A slap to your clit and the rough pace of his thrusts made you pause your complaint, your loud mewls ringing in the air.

“Cease your complaining. I'm the only one who gives instructions here. Are you that hungry for my cock that you decide to be a brat? To be so desperate as to beg me for it? So filthy. But nonetheless, I will gladly show you just how much I can offer this pussy.”

Muzan's favorite position is definitely between missionary and doggy. Missionary allows him to see you fall apart and mark your neck with his lovebites. Doggy, on the other hand, gives him access to smack your ass to his heart's content. He also loves to push your head into the mattress and fuck you harder. But, his number one will always be you on your knees, sucking him for everything's he's got.

Ya'll have more than likely fucked while he was in his female form. You never knew that tribbing could feel so good. And boy, was Muzan a master at the art. Crossed missionary, cowgirl, you did it all. Of course, she fucked you with dildos of all sizes. Some days, Muzan would overstimulate you with a vibrator attached to your clit.

“You can't handle anymore? How disappointing. You've only had four orgasms so far. Surely you can take more, my naughty girl.”

The overall lesson here? Muzan Kibutsuji is a god at sex, and you will always be left a drooling mess.

[Here's Muzan! Ngl, I went a bit wild with NSFW jdndnrnr💀. Thanks for reading! Likes, comments, and reblogs will be greatly appreciated 💕.]

[Tagging: @sailewhoremoon @frxxst]

#❦.ᴊᴇᴡᴇʟ ᴄᴏᴍᴘᴏꜱᴇꜱ #❦.ɴꜱꜰᴡ- ᴍɪɴᴏʀꜱ ᴅᴏɴ'ᴛ ʟᴏᴏᴋ #muzan kibutsuji #female muzan #muzan x reader #muzan headcanons #demon slayer x reader #demon slayer headcanons #❦.ɴꜱꜰᴡ ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢꜱ: ʀᴏᴜɢʜ ꜱᴇx #ᴏʀᴀʟ ꜱᴇx (ꜰᴇᴍᴀʟᴇ ᴀɴᴅ ᴍᴀʟᴇ ʀᴇᴄᴇɪᴠɪɴɢ)#ꜱʜɪʙᴀʀɪ #ᴛʀɪʙʙɪɴɢ #ꜱᴇx ᴛᴏʏꜱ (ᴅɪʟᴅᴏ/ᴠɪʙʀᴀᴛᴏʀ)#muzan kibutsuji x reader

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jhuzen · 1 year

Note

Hi! I'm here to request a Blade x m.reader(fluff, with a bit of angst). Since you said you're open👀.

I've got an idea. Blade gives like the old black cat energy vibes, and maybe what if he got clingyyyyyy, like so clingy, to the point even he is surprised. That's understandable for some point, cause he's got little to no attention in his past years, after he forgot everything(poor little Bladie)

But who am I to deny Bladie's attention, right? Haha. I really like how u do a bit of headcanons first and then a little fic in the end.

(Can i be anon K, hehe?🤪)

feline care [m.reader]

can you tell how much i love this man? ty ty nonnie K, lysm for this wonderful bladie request,,, jUST A FEW MORE WEEKS, WE CAN DO THIS TOGETHER, MKAY? hang in there <3

𖦹 blade being a cat-aligned man, subtle clinginess and yet no one calls him out for it, mentions of his past (i’ll try not to spoil too much), a tiny pinch of angst, and a spoonful of fluff, bittersweet on some parts (only because i mentioned the word bittersweet lmao)

It’s agreed upon everyone who has known you and Blade that… Blade is a cat more than a man, and you are a scratching post more than his lover.

Not that you’re always covered in scratches (though you have left your shared room in that state on some occasions). It’s more of the premise that he’s almost always latched onto you. It was odd for the others. Even Silver Wolf looks up from her game, baffled to see that when you’re briefing the mission from Elio, somewhere beside you, Blade has his hand on your hip. Kafka sometimes gets interrupted in her gossips with you when Blade sits down without warning beside you. She doesn’t mind from then on. Sam and Elio share the same experiences too.

He just… intervenes silently. Like a cat suddenly demanding your attention while you’re busy and he does it wordlessly and for some reason, no one questions him about it. In the middle of conversations, in the middle of meals, if you’re with someone, Blade does not care and will slide in beside you.

Blade has this primal need to just be beside you, to have a part of him touching you. His shoulder against yours, his hand on your back, heck, even a strand of his hair on yours, it’s more than enough.

No one points it out to him, but he’s the one who slowly came to the realization that he’s being… a little too touchy, a little too clingy than what was normally expected from him. Of course he has his own self-awareness, but it’s just that he’s so drowned and enticed with your presence, it takes him awhile to realize that sort of thing.

He’s a recluse, and often kept to himself. He only follows his comrades and will protect them if necessary, you included. But ever since you’ve propositioned a life of partnership with him — not just any partnership, it’s one that comes with your unbridled love and adoration for him, suddenly he’s reaching out some more to you, sticking some more beside you, needing even just a measly lick of attention from you.

Blade appreciates how you let him do as he wishes. You acknowledge him but not so much that it makes him feel standoffish towards you. It reassures him that he isn’t overstepping. (Though really, you’d love to tease him about it, you know it’ll quickly scare him away and you’ll be deprived of feeling his touches for awhile. It has happened once and you won’t let it happen again).

But it’s his touches that show just how much appreciation he has for the love that you can give him. You love him regardless of his past and how he came to be. And it just… shows how much undying devotion he has for you.

He’s a cat alright, it took you a long time to gain his trust, much less have him speak to you when he was officially onboard with you and the rest of the Stellaron Hunters. But the payoff is so satisfying with how he returns every effort you’ve exerted to get close to him. Now that you did your job, it was his turn to keep you close to him. You did it, and now he wants to be yours without a single question from anyone out there.

However there are bouts of isolation that keeps you from seeing him. It’s those times when he mulls over the things he went through. From Jingliu’s torment, to the betrayal of his fellow comrades to him. And instead of seeking you, he becomes this ball of contempt that slowly consumes him from the inside out. He doesn’t want to be near you even if he wanted to because he’s not so hot on the idea of always associating you in his time of need. He has this sense of duty that when he presents himself to you, that when he willingly hovers around you, he’s in his best, ready to protect you if needed.

And that’s where you normally work your magic.

“Dearest~” Kafka coos from behind you, and with her was Silver Wolf, playing on her games.

Currently, the ship is embarked on a random planet, just a little stopover before continuing on your journeys to hunt Stellarons and aid Elio in his… incredible fascination in being the slave of destiny. And right about now, you were in charge with looking over the next world you and your little crew of misfits are about to pay a little visit to, (perhaps also terrorize).

You grunted in acknowledge from your spot, eyes never leaving the holograms that wafted around your entire space. It was hard work, alright. Sometimes you wonder if Elio is a bitter single that refuses you to even spend some time with your beloved just for a short while.

“Seen Bladie around? Silver Wolf and I are heading down to shop around, might you and your beloved be interested in some fun with us?” Kafka’s eyes crinkle as she looked at you, despite the fact that you weren’t facing her. You can hear the smile in her voice anyway.

You suddenly perk up at the thought. It was strange — Blade wasn’t around for the entire day. Normally he was hovering around you, a hand on your hip while he leaned in with absent subtlety, watching you work in silence. But today… your body barely felt the warmth of his touches, and you were sure you woke up beside him just fine.

Finally did your eyes leave the information, swiping a hand on the projected holograms of information, watching it dissipate into air while you looked at the girls. You cocked your head to the side, all too confused.

“You mean he wasn’t around you guys?”

Silver Wolf only looked at you with the evident exasperation on her face, “He’s basically attached to you 24/7. What makes you think he’ll even come to us?”

Raising a hand in surrender, you only brushed off Silver Wolf’s petty sass, “Okay, okay. Alright.” You brought out your phone, scrolling through the contacts to see if Blade sent you any messages.

It wasn’t even a surprise to see that he has none to say. He was one of those that preferred… coming to see you to talk to you… even if it meant getting the scare of your life after flicking the lights to your bedroom on, only to see him sitting at the edge of the bed, looking at you with anticipation.

It was cute… but your heart that day disagrees.

You pocketed your phone after, “I’ll check around. Maybe Elio had him do something.”

Kafka nods along, “Come and have fun with us if you can, hm? Of course… that is unless if you find fun with each other first.” She cackles at the disgruntled look on yours and Silver Wolf’s faces.

“Gross.”

“Yeah, I agree with the kid.” You pinched the bridge of your nose before waving them off, letting them off the ship while you went off in the other direction, eager to look for Blade.

You’ve searched everywhere, and even went high and low, leaving the one and only unlikely place for Blade to be in since he got with you — his very own room. You can’t seem to recall how your rare invites for him to sleep over soon turned into you constantly waking up with him nestled in your arms while he slept peacefully. The line was very blurry by then, and it was the least of your worries by now.

The door to Blade’s room slid as you entered.

“Aeons, it’s bloody dark in here,” you flicked the lights on with much struggle. “Blade, a— AH—!”

There goes your second heart attack for your lifetime.

Blade was unfazed as he sat on the edge of the bed like the last time, also looking at the door, now right at you as you stood by the door frame, clutching your rapidly beating heart that thudded against your chest.

Your heart quickened in a different way as soon as you saw the faraway look in his eyes. And one too many times, it broke your heart when his eyes expressed such sadness. You didn’t know much, you never asked, you never could stomach seeing him bring out his likely suppressed memories of the past just to satisfy the curiosity you’ve had. All you knew is that he has been through a lot, so much that he only considers himself as a weapon without regard of who he was or what his name was even.

You slowly idled as the unused bed dips in your added weight when you sat beside him. Hands on your lap, gracious enough to give him space until he reels himself back in. That was your little Blade protocol. As long as he isn’t too far gone, you’re ready to express the fact that you are willing to wait for him. Your gaze finds the emptiness of Blade’s room a little too bittersweet — that he had little to no possessions to express who he is, but at the same time a reminder that he vacated this lonely room and migrated to yours.

And while you mulled over the emptiness, Blade was slowly coming into his senses. His mind is in pieces with barely anything but the sharp sting of betrayal from his comrades, the pain he succumbed to under that woman, and the revenge that burdened him as he awaited the day he gets to Xianzhou Luofo to make them all pay the price.

He blinks, suddenly aware of the warmth beside him and he looked to his left to see you, and like a cat, he’s spooked. He stiffened up quick and almost stood up if your hand hadn’t held him down as it quickly landed on his thigh.

“What’s up with you and sitting silently in dark rooms? Seriously, even Silver Wolf’s getting spooked. Did you pick that up from Kafka?” You laughed — not even a mention of what he was thinking about, or what has gotten him all knotted up. Just the way he likes it.

You don’t ask questions, but your warmth invites him to tell you everything that he knows.

Blade only scoffed but a ghostly smile was on his lips. “I like to think without hearing you mumble about what to eat. Is food all you think about?”

“I’m not the one constantly latched onto someone’s hip almost everyday.” You called him out quick and he gave you a look of hesitance. Uncertainty flashes through his normally sharp cold eyes and you were quick to reel him back in. “Not like it’s a problem or anything. Seriously, you’re quicker to spook than a cat. Don’t be so skittish, you’ve seen me without clothes before.”

Blade groaned as he pressed his palm against your mouth, “Quit yammering about things like that.” As blissful as those memories were, the last time you were caught talking about something, Sam overheard, Blade refused to leave your shared room, and you had terrible scratch somewhere along your neck.

Even in the emptiness, you found your bliss beside him and Blade mirrored your sentiments. Even more so when you would shower him in the attention that he so desperately needs without having to beg for it.

You wordlessly watched as he stood up from the edge of the bed. You had every inkling to stop, but you also understood that Blade comes to you when he’s ready. Still, it wouldn’t hurt to keep him around and show him an ounce of comfort that he himself clearly needs. But you were stunned when he turned to you and drops to the floor, on his knees.

“Uh…”

Blade doesn’t speak when his head finds itself on your lap, cheek on your thigh while he refused to look at you.

But when he did, there was a silent plea. To soothe his aches with your loving touch, to comfort him with the smile that finds captures every starlight in existence. You only complied with a minuscule smile as your fingers slowly threaded through his luscious dark hair, fingertips soothingly massaging his scalp.

You relished in the sigh that escaped his lips as he melted in your touch, his head lolling in your lap.

“…Our shampoo does more wonders to your hair than mine.” You commented with a tiny pout and he only grunted in response. He’d rather you talk to him until he forgets that painful void in his chest after being betrayed by his comrades. “Or maybe you’re just naturally perfect, huh?”

“‘M not…” his response was muffled, but you understood nonetheless.

“You are.” You insisted with another grin as you continued to pamper him with your gentle touches. You could see the way his shoulders visibly released tension, his form going slack as he indulged in the comfort you offered.

You stayed in silence with him, the static atmosphere in the room no more than suffocating as you made sure your love and devotion reached him as much as he did yours.

And suddenly, your hand gravitates from his head down to his other cheek, caressing it ever so gently. Your featherlight touch soothes his core deeply and he could only let his lips curl up into a small satisfied smile.

Your hand moved down further until you scratched the underside of his chin.

And a purr rumbles from Blade’s chest.

You stopped and his eyes snapped open as the realization hits you both like the Astral Express. He hurriedly looked up to you and sure enough, there was an ecstatic grin plastered on your pretty face.

“Wh—”

“Don’t.”

…And so you don’t. For now at least.

#and they never went to hangout with kafka and sw #u just forgot about it when u found out ur bladie purrs #trust that it will be a blackmail material #ADIAMDIMSIDV. I NEED BLADE RN OR IM GONNA EXPLODE #jhuzen’s stupid one shots #jhuzen’s stupid hcs #jhuzen’s stupid scenarios #hsr x male reader #honkai star rail x male reader #blade x male reader

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tainted-liquor · 1 year

Text

'Stop Laughing, Baby!...ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁⋆｡

...⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚

ingredients: sugar, kisses, and a lil bit of smiles !

tws: Cussing, you being in loooove, mention of surgery

a/n: Miles is implied to be over 18, it literally doesnt matter what age js 18-24

"AH! FUCK!"

That was the last thing you said about the pain in your mouth before scheduling a visit with your orthodontist. You had put off getting your wisdom teeth removed for as long as possible, the reason being you were afraid of the anesthesia. Sure, the procedure would probably hurt like hell, but you were more concerned about how you'd act while high off your ass. The idea of being completely unaware of what's coming out of your mouth scared you, and you really didn't wanna say the wrong thing to your parents or whoever would be taking you. So, what did you do?

You waited literal months so nobody but Miles could take you. You sat in the passenger seat of your boyfriend's car, quiet and afraid as whatever drill your man had on shook the car. "Nigga you can't be serious right now" You deadpanned, turning towards Miles as you gestured to the radio. "What? You don't like DD Osama?" Miles chuckled, knowing full well what you meant in the moment. "I'm literally about to have surgery and you're listening to...this" You huffed, rolling your eyes and fixing your top in the mirror. Miles laughed loudly, shaking his head before changing the music to your playlist.

"Yeah, you kinda right. Estarás bien, Gorda. Promento" Miles reassured as he put the car in park, leaving you to watch as he used one arm to maneuver his way into the parking spot. Damn, you were lucky. You let out a deep sigh, mentally preparing yourself to literally have your mouth cut open before hearing Miles open your car door. "You okay? Y'want some water before you go in?" He cooed as he took your hand in his, gently helping you out of the car before swinging his arm across your shoulders. "Uh, yeah. Lemme get some water actually" You nodded, nervously taking a sip from his water bottle as you walked toward the massive-looking building.

"Guárdalo si lo necesitas" Miles stated, pushing open the glass double doors as he guided you inside the rather up-beat and bustling building. "Baby I don't speak Spanish" you snorted, giggling slightly at the sudden switch. "Keep it if you need it, mama. I don't want you to be dehydrated, cuz you won't be able to drink for a lil bit after your procedure" he shrugged, pulling you closer to his side and placing a kiss on your forehead. You knew he was right, but you didn't wanna be rude and drink all his water. "Nah, I think I'm fi-"

"Drink. Your water." He reiterated firmly, side-eying you in the most menacing way possible. "My bad original gangster" you squeaked, chugging the remaining water left in the plastic bottle. "Thank you. I need you comfy mama, please let me know if you need somethin'" He reassured as you now stood in the waiting room, sighing as you went to go check in. You filled out the necessary paperwork and then sat down next to Miles, who was currently lightyears deep in his phone. You watched him scroll on his feed, both hands resting on his left forearm while he texted his mom.

"Tell Mama Rio I said hi please" You muttered, watching as he nodded and immediately notified Mrs. Morales of your presence. You felt your heart stop as a rather nice-looking lady called your name, motioning for you to follow her into the O.R. You waved to Miles, feeling your anxiety climb as you followed the assistant to the back, getting comfortable on the leathery dental chair. You took a deep breath, and let everything pass by as they set up everything for the next 15 minutes. But baby when they started that flow of gas? Baby you were OUT.

"So she's still gonna be a little groggy, but right now she should be waking up...Hello!" A cheerful, masked face said as you attempted to open your eyes. "Ffffuuuuuhhhhhhckkkkk..." You whined, attempting to lift your 300-pound eyelids. "Hola, Princesa! Te ves drogado" Miles laughed, clearly amused by your half-open eyes and puffy cheeks. "Miiilesh!" You garbled, reaching your arms up loosely as your boyfriend scooped you off the chair. Your arms awkwardly curved around his neck, vision focusing and un-focusing as you attempt to give him a kiss.

"No-...Mama, I can't kiss you I'm sorry!" He laughed, dodging you to the best of his ability. "Wh...C'mere!" you grunted, clearly not processing his words as he picked up your meds at the front desk. You pouted, huffing and puffing as Miles gave you a gentle pat on the back. He quickly made his way back to the car, placing you in the passenger side as delicately as possible and strapping you in. "Comfy?" He asked, turning his head to the side as he scanned your face for any sort of comprehension.

You blinked at Miles sleepily, lips curving into a smile as you began to giggle at...nothing. "Ah! You can't laug-pfft....-Laugh!"Miles quickly stated as he wrapped a little pink compression bandage around your face. "See? It's soft!" He cooed as he pressed both of your hands to the side of your face, allowing you to feel the fluffy material of the compression band. You smiled at him, watching as he quickly made his way to the driver's side after closing your door. He stared at your blissful face, watching as you ran your hands up and down the fluffy material and mumbled a cute little "Ooooh!"

You rode home in silence as you fiddled with the radio, making more "Oohs" and "Aahs" with each click of a button. "Yeah, they got yo ass looped" Miles guffawed as he watched you play with the A/C vents. You leaned your head against his shoulder, closing your eyes while he drove the rest of the way to his apartment. You weren't exactly awake, but you weren't exactly asleep. You were simply just...gone.

You didn't exactly remember when, but you found yourself back In Miles's arms as he carried you up a bunch of stairs. You clung to Miles, feeling like you were falling as you stared down the stairwell. "You good Mama? You holdin' me a lil tight right now" Miles giggled as he finally reached his floor, kicking his door open and setting you down on his couch. You hummed, laying down on the couch as you observed his black and white 8-ball rug, running your hand through the 'mysterious' texture while you hung off the couch. Miles peeked over the couch, watching as you quite literally played with a rug at your big age.

And he recorded every second of your stupidity. From you playing on a rug, to you attempting to take a nap on the coffee table, and you ACTUALLY taking a nap on his chest. "¿Gorda? ¿Estás bien?" Miles asked as he patted the top of your head, realizing you hadn't made an attempt to walk or go missing in almost 10 minutes. Once he heard that smooth and constant breathing, he knew that you were out cold. He chuckled to himself, putting his phone down on your head as he wrapped both arms around you.

"You're a handful."

...⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚

Taglist

@ashsostrange @chessbox @faeriesoiree333 @janaeby @kxllanxtdoor @fivestardior @an1bara @bachirasegoistt @milesnanana77 @niaurluv

#across the spiderverse #atsv #into the spiderverse #miles morales #miles morales x reader #earth 42 miles x reader #earth 42 miles #e42 miles x black!reader

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lilibethwrites · 2 years

Text

Growing Pains

Aemond Targaryen and Y/N ‘Velaryon’ grew up together. They played and stumbled and fell in the halls and empty chambers of Red Keep, retreated to study tomes under the God’s Tree in the courtyard, and took turns distracting the cooks as their pockets pulled at the seams with the stolen lemon cakes. As Y/N and Aemond’s mothers drifted apart, the young prince and princess grew closer—much closer than either of them thought was possible.

This is a slow-burn, multi-chapter fic that will be (heavily) canon divergent at times. Both Aemond and Y/N are 18+.

Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4 (Finale)

Warnings: None for this chapter

Word count: 2180

A.N: This was in the works for a while, but only as a vague idea. Aemond being a total diva and enamouring everyone pulled it out of the drafts and put it together at lightning speed.

“Mother, please. This is not necessary,” Y/N stood still in front of a polished mirror as her soft protest fell on deaf ears. Behind her, Rhaenyra Targaryen held a brush gilded with delicate, gold dragons, and the soft bristles glided through silky white hair.

Rhaenyra would never admit it to anyone but herself in the safe retreat of her mind that half the tears she had wept the night Y/N was born were because she was blessed with a head full of white hair like a true Targaryen and Velaryon. Rhaenyra was relieved. She was relieved that at least one of her children would be spared the cruel jabs and accusations wherever she went. True, their words couldn’t be called accusations if they had truth to them, and what set Y/N apart from her older brothers was not blood, for they shared the same father, but a bit of luck or perhaps an intervention from the old Gods or the new. But the specifics eluded Rhaenyra, and no one needed to know any further.

Y/N had servants doting her from the moment she took her first breath—and not only because they had to, but because she was, not unlike her mother, a delight to be around—and yet for the ten and eight years she’s been alive, her hair was gently brushed and braided by her mother. Despite the fact that Y/N loved nothing more than to run around and come back to her chambers come afternoon with scrapes and dirt across her face and her hair a dishevelled disaster, Rhaenyra carefully brushed and braided her hair unceasingly, morning after morning.

So, a dismissive—loving, but dismissive nevertheless—hum was all Y/N got out of Rhaenyra.

“Two or one? Perhaps one over, and one under?”

“Only one, please. Leave the rest as is, I’m to take Tessarion out of the pit soon.”

Rhaenyra, in curiosity, cocked her head to the side to catch Y/N’s gaze in the reflection of the mirror. Meanwhile, her deft fingers dove in and out of strands of white hair, creating a tight, single braid that would soon twirl into a simple bun with a few pins.

“Have I not told you? Apologies. She hasn’t flown in days, and the weather seems well. It would do her good to—”

“Flying alone, are you?”

“No,” Y/N’s voice came out weak. A stronger “no” soon followed. “Vhagar is coming, too.”

“You mean Aemond,” Rhaenyra’s shapely brows furrowed into a disapproving frown.

It didn’t take a Sister of the Faith or the Spymaster of the court to know that Rhaenyra and Queen Alicent weren’t what they once were. A collateral of their bitter falling out was her somewhat sudden disapproval of how much time Y/N had spent with Aemond. “That boy’s nothing but bad influence,” she’d complain over dinner. Daemon would hum in agreement, though the agreement, Y/N knew, did not come from his heart. Y/N always had her suspicion that Daemon and Aemond had mutual respect, and perhaps a slight hint of admiration for one another. Though both were too proud to ever be anything other than reverential to one another whenever they crossed paths. Even so, Daemon saw Y/N with Aemond several times, and reassured Rhaenyra that she only spent time with the servant girls, helping them fold heavy tapestries all day long.

Y/N however, felt differently. Despite her childish cruelty towards Aemond before he’d claimed Vhagar for himself, he was nothing but sweet and kind to her. She was in on cruel pranks played on him, parading around a much smaller Tessarion whilst asking him why did he not have a dragon, and could he perhaps be a bastard himself since his egg hadn’t hatched.

“You know, Tessarion was a goddess in old Valyria. Mother helped me choose a name for my dragon. From the tomes of our Maester. When will you get a dragon? You’re older than me. Besides, everyone else has one. Except for you,” Y/N once pressed Aemond as a child, instigated and encouraged by her brothers and Aemond’s.

“Perhaps never,” Aemond responded quietly, unbeknownst to both himself and Y/N that things would change quite soon.

And change they did. Aemond claimed the biggest dragon in the known realm. He changed, too. He hopped off from his first flight as a man: colder, calmer, more distant and cruel. Yet he always reserved a warmer, softer place in his frozen heart for Y/N.

Aemond never regarded himself handsome, and he was too smart to fool himself with Alicent’s excuses as to why young ladies around Red Keep avoided her. But not Y/N. Never Y/N. She beamed up whenever they sat across from each other at the breakfast tables and dinner feasts. Though their games changed, the time they spent together never lessened. She seemed almost *happy* to see him, but Aemond took great care to remind himself it was a kind, friendly gesture from a well-behaved lady. Though he couldn’t dare say it out loud unless he risked a playful slap to his broad shoulder with a feigned-stern warning that Y/N was not a lady.

“By the Gods! I’m NOT a lady. I’ll wear an armour, like you. Don’t laugh. You will see. I will never get married. I won’t fall in love. It’s absurd. Mother says she said the same thing once, but she ended up fighting in the same battlefield all women do,” Y/N stomped her feet to the pit just last week with Aemond following behind with a lopsided smile.

“And what battlefield is that, my not-a-lady?”

“The birthing bed, of course! It’s absurd. Truly. It’s a horror! I’m never falling in love.”

Aemond only hummed, nodding as Y/N trailed off, nearing the end of another one of her rants about the perils of ladyhood. Though that time, his face fell. There was a stinging ache inside him, as if Ser Criston finally got him in one of their training sessions. Why did it matter if Y/N disavowed love? So what if she was sworn off marriage? Didn’t he do the very same as he stared at the grotesque scar that ran across his face? Besides, if she were to fall in love, it would be with a handsome and flirty Lannister, or a ravishing Velaryon who would whisper promises in her ear that he’d sail her across the whole realm, showing her palaces and gardens from the comfort of her own ship. Y/N grew into an attractive lady, and while Aemond himself grew taller and muscular, he was not fortunate enough to grow another eye in place of the one he lost. Though the trade was far from fair, sometimes a certain thought snuck into his mind, especially when he was with Y/N: he would trade Vhagar back for his eye, and then, perhaps Y/N would see him differently. It was a silly thought, and he chased it off as soon as it came, but by the Gods it was persistent.

“Good morning,” Y/N squinted an eye to stare up at the man with his back to her. She needn’t see his face to know her dragon-riding partner. Not because almost all her waking thoughts were plagued, in one way or the other, with him—it was indecent and quite frankly went against what she’d promised herself—Gods, no! But, well, he was tall and stood a certain way and shifted his weight from one foot to the other a certain way and his hair blew in the tender morning breeze a certain way and that breeze carried a certain scent that Y/N could distinguish from a feast hall full of smells—only because they grew up together. Perhaps Maester was right and reading too many romances was indeed perilous for a fresh mind like hers.

“Morning? Is it not past noon?”

“No. Perhaps you have suffered a blow to your head.”

Aemond smiled first. He always let Y/N win their playful bickering.

A gentle tap on his arm signalled him to follow along, though with his long legs he could’ve easily caught up with no warnings. His arms were folded behind him. Perhaps it was a feeble attempt at ensuring that his hands didn’t defy his mind and reach for Y/N’s, or perhaps, they were just comfortable like that.

“Are you excited?” Y/N broke the silence, stepping closer to Aemond, who always had to arch his back or crane his neck to meet her height. It amused him how petite she was in comparison. It reminded him of the times he carried her behind his back, with her legs locked around his waist and her arms almost suffocating him with how tight she’d clutched his neck from behind.

“What for?”

“The wedding, of course. Gods, you behave as if Aemon is not your brother sometimes!”

“Can you blame me?”

“No…” Y/N trailed off. She found that she couldn’t blame him for much, but perhaps for coming into her mind and filling her ears each time a suitor introduced himself to her, or when the Maester bored her to death with another history lesson.

“Well, are you?”

“No. I suppose not. Frankly, I’m not certain why I even asked,” Y/N chuckled. She could be herself the most and speak with no reservations or designations when she was around Aemond. The idea that he would soon follow after Aegon and marry a woman infuriated her. They could no longer spend as much time together as they could now, and they couldn’t be as close as they were either. The grass-green dragon of jealousy got the better of her. Oh, how she wished he’d let his arms idle by his side as he usually did. She would take his arm and tell him if she absolutely had to marry someone, she’d choose him, and she wouldn’t hate the notion of giving him a baby or two who would look exactly half like him and half like her. And despite telling herself this exact tale almost every day, she never quite gathered enough confidence and courage to do such a thing.

So instead Y/N flew alongside Aemond as usual. He showed off and she admired whenever she thought he didn’t look. High up above the clouds, Y/N thought about never landing down again. She fantasized about taking off with Aemond. She had once read in a tome about how the old Valyrians got married, and the words turned into pictures in her mind as she watched Vhagar glide through a flock of birds. The blood was first drawn from a palm she thought about pressing against hers whenever sleep eluded her. Then, the sharp Dragonglass cut hers, and the flow of their blood united in a mysterious Valyrian magic. Then—then, Aemond pulled Y/N out of her sweet fantasy and back to the clouds they were flying above.

“It’s getting late. Your mother might worry.”

“Or perhaps you’ve had enough of my company? Would you rather be elsewhere?”

The smile faded from Y/N’s face as the silence went on. It was a “yes”, then? Aemond did want to be elsewhere, perhaps with someone else, and she would find out through a silly tease.

“No. But I would rather you were not in trouble on my account.”

The delayed, stoic answer didn’t do much to comfort Y/N. So, that’s what he would come up with as an excuse to cut our time short? Might as well admit that you would rather be anywhere but here, why won’t you, Aemond?

“Actually, yes. We should land. I forgot I have a suitor coming all the way from the Eyrie.” That was a lie, and an immature one at that, but Aemond didn’t need to know.

He looked back over his shoulder. The hiss laced with disappointment and fury was swallowed up by the wind raised by Vhagar’s wings.

Back at the Pit, Aemond was courteous as always, hopping off Vhagar first to hold his hand out to Y/N, helping her off her dragon. Though this time, his hand didn’t reach for her waist to aid her in her small jump, and the lack of his touch through his gloves and her heavy brocade riding coat burned her flesh from the inside out like scorching iron. His face was turned to the side, his hands idle with the saddle on Vhagar as Y/N idled, praying to all the Gods she knew to pry a word of assurance out of Aemond’s mouth. A sweet, warm confirmation that they are still—well, friends. Yet it never came. A quiet, almost distant “Be well, princess,” was all that she got and a sharp piece of Dragonglass cut her open from neck to the heart. Far more painful and deadlier than an open palm, and no matching cut to bind their lives together, either. Perhaps the idea of marrying the very next lord that asked for her hand and getting away from King’s Landing—a place that once held much hope and happiness but now nothing but anguish—once and for all wasn’t such a bad idea after all.

#aemond targaryen x reader #aemond x reader #aemond targaryen #hotd

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whatsthethinking · 1 year

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Hi can I request a Tonowari fic where his female mate is exhausted and can’t wait for him to come home as she wants to be in his arms and when he does home she jumps into his arms and he wraps his arms around her holding her close asking what’s wrong, she says nothing just that she missed him nuzzling her face closer to his warm chest, he laughs and rubs her back before moving them to the ground and he sits down holding her in his lap stroking her hair and kissing her softly with her arms around his waist, he talks with her and asks her questions she doesn’t respond eventually he hears her soft purrs and even breath letting him know that she’s fallen asleep on him with her head resting on his shoulder snuggling into his warmth, he kisses her hair and lies down with her stroking her back? Thanks 😊

Here With Me

Tonowari x Fem!Reader

❥ Word count: 1.1k

❥ Warning: n/a

❥ Note: Helloooo, this is my first request and I am open to writing more, so if you have any requests, feel free to send them to me. As of right now I am open to writing for any character.

Life on Awa’atlu is always so calm and peaceful; oh how y/n wished she could agree. For months now, she has been training to be the clan’s Tsahik. She knew it would happen eventually but the time seemed to arrive quickly. Every day, she would sit with the clan's current Tsahik, her mate's mother, and they would train. She would be quizzed on anything she had ever learned.

Y/n understood why this was necessary; being Tsahìk was not an easy job to have. You had to have the most profound connection to Eywa, and have the trust of the people, but as time went on, y/n felt more and more exhausted. She was beginning to doubt herself.

Y/n couldn't complain; she knew that this was what would happen when she agreed to mate with Tonowari. He was to be the next Olo'keytian, and she will be his Tsahìk.

Tonowari was away on a hunting trip with his father, the current clan leader. This was not anything new; since they were children, the Olo’keytian would whisk his son away to train him. The father and son duo had been away for almost a week, and y/n was missing him terribly. She missed having him there to talk to. Missed having him there to reassure her, encourage her, and listen to her. Yes, she had other friends to talk to, but this wasn’t the same. Tonowari was her best friend before they became mates, telling each other everything.

“Okay, that’s enough for today.” Tonowari’s mother said, placing her bowl of herbs to the side, seeing how tired her son’s mate appeared.

“Once I've finished this.”

“No, I’ll finish it, go and rest, child.”

Y/n nodded and slowly stood up, not going to miss the chance to be alone.

Making her way out of the healers marui, y/n slowly walked towards the beach, needing time to relieve stress before she returned to her empty marui.

Sitting down and pulling her knees to her chest, y/n closed her eyes and took a deep breath. A moment later, she felt someone sit down beside her.

“Hello, miss Tsahik.”

A tired smile appeared on y/n face, “my dearest Ronal.”

“How’s it going?”

Turning to face her friend, y/n nodded tiredly, “Good, it's going… Good”

“Good? You look like you haven’t slept in three days.”

“Four, actually.” Y/n joked.

Ronal smiled at her friend before standing up, brushing the sand off her legs and holding out her hand, “Let’s get you to bed then.”

Y/n slowly took her friend's hand and stood up, Ronal brushing the sand off of her too.

“It’s too early for bed; I haven't even eaten.”

“Shh, it’s never too early for bed. Get some rest; I'll make something and bring it to you later, once you've woken up. Can't have you sleep deprived when Tonowari returns.” A smirk appeared on her lips.

Y/n smiled bashfully, her face heating up at Ronal implication but nodded, allowing her friend to guide her back to her marui.

The two girls spoke briefly before Ronal left, reminding y/n that she would come by later with food. Once y/n was alone, she sighed, looking around the empty marui. She missed Tonowari deeply, wishing that this trip would end so she wouldn’t feel alone.

Tonowari and his father walked up the beach just as the sun was starting to set. Residents of the village greeted them with smiles, but Tonowari couldn't see the one person he was looking for. His y/n. Excusing himself from the crowd, he walked to the healer's marui, thinking she would be there but, she wasn’t.

As he turned to leave, he came face to face with Ronal. Before he could speak, she shoved three leaf packages into his chest.

“Those are for y/n.”

“Where is she?”

“Asleep. Hopefully. Bye”

With that, Ronal had walked off. Tonowari stood dumbfounded at the very brief encounter with his mate's best friend before letting his feet carry him to their shared marui. Stepping inside, he noticed a bundle of woven blankets against the far wall. Putting the packages down gently, he walked over to the bundle to see the top of his mate's head poking out.

Tonowari smiled sweetly at the sight, going over, getting down on his knees to kiss the side of her head. He could tell that y/n would be asleep for another hour or so, so he sat on the other side of the marui, sorting through the assortment of shells and rocks he had collected on his travels. Thinking of how he can make them into gifts for his loved ones.

As time passed, Tonowari heard a change in y/n breathing as she turned over, indicating that she was waking up. Slowly she opened her eyes, Tonowari giving her a gentle smile.

“You’re back,” y/n scrambled up and leaped onto her mate, still seated on the floor, her arms circling his neck. “Why didn’t you wake me?”

Tonowari circled his arms around her waist, pulling her close.

“I couldn’t; you looked so peaceful.”

Squeezing, y/n pulled away, sitting on her knees so that she was somewhat eye level with her mate. Just as she opened her mouth to speak, Tonowari cut her off.

“I missed you,” he said sincerely, which made her heart flutter,

“I missed you too.”

Tonowari gently pulled his mate forward and turned her so she was sitting with her back against his chest. He wrapped his arms around her, kissing her head again. Y/n turned her head, smiling up at her mate. Tonowari smiled down at her, placing a small kiss on her lips, followed by a second and a third. The pair grinned at each other before y/n turned back around, leaning her head onto her mate’s chest, and Tonowari placed his chin on her head.

Their pair asked each other about what they had missed being apart. Tonowari spoke about what he had seen while hunting, how he and his father stayed with another clan on a small island not too far from where they are now. Y/n hummed every once and a while to let him know that she was listening.

“How was your training this week?”

But Tonowari didn’t get a reply, peering down at his mate. He noticed that her eyes were closed and her breathing even. Smiling softly, Tonowari carefully lifted her, taking her to the sleeping mat and blanket. Setting her down gently, he laid beside her, pulling the blanket over their bodies. Tonowari wrapped his arms around her as her head rested on his chest.

“Sleep well, my love.”

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kisses-for-you · 2 months

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hiiii if you're taking requests, could you write a little carlos x reader, where reader is a bit jealous that carlos is getting some attention, and carlos teases them about it but still reassures them that he loves them 🥺🥺

Green - Carlos Oliveira

Carlos Oliveira X GN!Reader

Summary: You and Carlos go to a party, at which you meet his old friend. You quickly start to feel jealous.

Word Count: 1,123

sorry it took me so long to get to this, I haven't been very active but I hope you enjoy!! <3

As you and Carlos stepped into the lively party, the sound of laughter and music filled the air. The room was buzzing with people, old friends greeting each other and new people getting to know one another. Carlos' hand was warm around yours, giving you a sense of comfort in what seemed like a never-ending sea of people.

"Carlos! It's been ages!" A woman's voice rang out, and you both turned to see a fairly tall, blonde woman approaching with a wide smile. She looked stunning in a red dress that hugged her figure perfectly. Carlos grinned back, releasing your hand to give her a friendly hug.

"It's great to see you, Emily," Carlos replied. They pulled back from the hug, and Emily's eyes darted to you, raising one eyebrow in curiosity. Carlos noticed and introduced you, "This is Y/N," he wraps an arm around your waist, "my partner."

You smiled politely, saying, "Nice to meet you.

"Nice to meet you too, Y/N. Carlos has told me a lot of good things about you." Her smile seemed friendly enough, but you couldn't help but notice how her eyes lingered on Carlos a moment longer than necessary.

As the evening went on, Carlos introduced you to several of his friends, who were all very kind and welcoming. Yet, every time Emily was nearby, you felt a sense of unease. She seemed to be everywhere, laughing a little too loudly at Carlos' jokes, touching his arm when she spoke to him, and giving you side glances that felt anything but friendly.

You found it increasingly harder to ignore the gnawing feeling in your stomach. Emily seemed to be hovering around Carlos more than anyone else, her attention solely focused on him. You tried to shake off the unease, reminding yourself that Carlos was here with you.

But it wasn't just her. You couldn't help but notice the lingering gazes of a few women around the room. They would glance at Carlos and then whisper to each other, their eyes shining with interest. However, this was nothing new to you - having a hot boyfriend and all - and you knew you should be used to it by now.

At one point, you excused yourself to get a drink from the bar. As you waited for the bartender to finish, you couldn't help but glance over your shoulder. Carlos was laughing at something Emily had said, her hand resting lightly on his arm. To others, it might've seemed like nothing more than an innocent gesture, but combined with her constant attention, it felt like more than that.

Your chest tightened as you watched Emily continue to engage Carlos in conversation. The room felt a little too warm, the air too thick. You tried to focus on the drink being prepared in front of you, but your thoughts kept drifting back to the scene across the room. Carlos' smile, the way he leaned in slightly when he listened - it all gnawed at you.

When you finally got your drink, you took a sip, hoping the cool liquid would soothe the unease inside you. Just then, Carlos caught your eye from across the room. His smile faltered slightly, as if he could sense your discomfort. He excused himself from the conversation with Emily and made his way over to you. As he approached, you put on your best smile, not wanting to appear insecure.

"Hey, everything okay, mi amor?" he asked, slipping an arm around your waist and pulling you close.

You nodded, "Yeah, just needed a drink."

Carlos studied your face, a knowing glint in his eyes. He glanced back at Emily, who was now chatting with another group of people and then looked back at you. "You sure? You seemed a little distant."

You hesitated, not wanting to make a scene, but decided it's better to be honest. "It's just... well, Emily seems really friendly and she hasn't left your side all night. It's a little uncomfortable."

Carlos smiled softly, tilting your chin up with a gentle finger so you met his gaze. "Are you jealous?" he teased, his tone playful but still caring.

You felt a flush creep onto your face. "Jealous? No- I mean... maybe a little," you admitted, trying to keep your tone light. "It's just that she seems really interested in you."

Carlos chuckled, his eyes twinkling with amusement. "So, you're telling me the Y/N is feeling threatened by Emily?" His voice was playful, teasing, as he leaned in closer. "Should I be worried?"

You playfully shoved him, laughing despite your feelings. "Oh, shut up. It's not like that. But she's so touchy, she's obviously into you."

Carlos grinned, clearly enjoying your reaction. "Well, I can't help it if women find me irresistible," he joked.

You rolled your eyes, but couldn't suppress a smile. "Oh, please. Don't let it go to your head."

He laughed, but then his expression softened. "Hey, listen," he said, his tone suddenly serious. "I'm here with you, okay? Emily's just an old friend, and nothing more. You're the one I love, not her."

You felt a wave of relief and warmth at his words, but Carlos wasn't done teasing. He leaned in closer, his lips brushing your ear. "Besides," he whispered, "I kinda like seeing you a little jealous. It's cute."

You huffed, pretending to be annoyed, but your smile gave it away. "You seriously enjoy teasing me, don't you?"

He chuckled, planting a soft kiss on your forehead. "Maybe a little. But only because you're adorable when you're jealous."

You raised your eyebrows at him, kind of how a mother who was disappointed with her child would. Carlos grinned, holding his hands up in mock surrender. "Okay, okay, I'll stop. But seriously, you have nothing to worry about. You're the only one for me." He confirmed, "Always."

He leaned in for a tender kiss and after a few moments, he pulled back slightly, a mischievous glint in his eyes. "You know," he began with a playful smirk, "I think I owe you for earlier, so how about I make it up to you?"

You raised an eyebrow, intrigued. "Oh? And how do you plan on doing that?"

Carlos' smile widened as he took your hand and led you towards the dance floor. The music was upbeat, and other people had already started to dance. He spun you around and pulled you close, the energy of the music and the crowd around you adding to the excitement.

"Let's show them how it's done, mi amor," he whispered in your ear, his voice warm and inviting. With a playful twirl, he brought you into a close dance, his hands steady on your waist.

#carlos oliveira #carlos oliveira x reader #re3 #re3r #re3 remake #resident evil 3 #resident evil 3 remake #Resident evil #imagine #resident evil carlos

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lila-lou · 7 days

Text

✨Needy - Pt. 4/5✨

Summary: This is part 4 of "Needy"

Pairing: Jensen x PregnantReader

Warnings: ANGST!, Pregnant reader

Word Count: 4575

A/N: English isn’t my first language, so please be lenient. 💙✨

Once in the labor and delivery ward, the medical team sprang into action. They guided you to a delivery room, helped you onto the bed, and began monitoring your vitals and the baby’s heart rate. Jensen stayed close, his eyes filled with concern but his demeanor steady and reassuring.

The doctor on call arrived promptly, her face a mix of professionalism and empathy. “Hello, I’m Dr. Martinez”. She took a quick glance at the monitors and then turned her attention to you. “We’re going to take good care of you. I need to check a few things first”.

Dr. Martinez performed a thorough examination, her hands gentle but efficient. The monitors beeped softly in the background. Jensen stayed close, his hand tightly holding yours, offering silent support.

“You’ve done the right thing coming in”, Dr. Martinez reassured you both. “Since your water broke early, we’ll need to keep you here for close monitoring. We want to ensure both you and your baby are safe”.

You nodded, trying to process everything. The reality of the situation was daunting, but the doctor’s calm demeanor and Jensen’s unwavering presence gave you a semblance of reassurance.

As Dr. Martinez continued her examination, another sharp pain radiated through your abdomen. You gasped, gripping Jensen’s hand tighter. “Another contraction”, you managed to say, your voice strained.

Dr. Martinez’s expression remained focused but calm. “I can see that”, she said, her eyes on the monitor. “We’ll need to administer medication to help slow the contractions and steroids to help your baby’s lungs develop more quickly. The goal is to keep the baby inside for as long as possible to give them the best chance”.

The nurses moved swiftly, setting up an IV and preparing the necessary medications. The contraction slowly ebbed, leaving you exhausted and breathless. Jensen leaned in, his forehead gently pressing against yours. “You’re doing amazing”, he whispered, his voice filled with love and pride.

Dr. Martinez finished her examination and stepped back, giving you a reassuring smile. “We’re going to monitor you closely. The medications should help, but if you need anything or feel any changes, let us know immediately”.

The room settled into a quieter rhythm, the beeping of the monitors providing a steady background noise. The nurses adjusted your position to make you more comfortable and dimmed the lights slightly to create a more soothing environment.

Jensen sat beside you, his hand never leaving yours. Despite his obvious exhaustion, he remained focused on you, his eyes filled with unwavering support. “I’m right here”, he repeated softly, his thumb rubbing gentle circles on the back of your hand.

The minutes passed slowly.

Despite the initial signs of hope, the contractions began to pick up again. You could see the worry in Jensen’s eyes each time you squeezed his hand tighter in pain. He stayed strong for you, his words of encouragement a lifeline in the midst of your fear and exhaustion.

Eventually, Dr. Martinez returned, her expression more serious this time. She approached the bed and gently placed a hand on your shoulder. “I’m sorry, but the medication isn’t working as well as we hoped. The contractions are continuing to progress”.

Your heart sank at her words, the reality of the situation hitting you hard. Jensen’s grip on your hand tightened, his eyes filled with concern and determination. “What does this mean?”, he asked, his voice steady despite the fear you knew he was feeling.

Dr. Martinez took a deep breath, her demeanor calm and professional. “It means that we need to prepare for the possibility that your baby may come sooner than we planned. We’re going to do everything we can to ensure a safe delivery for both of you”.

Tears welled up in your eyes, the uncertainty of it all overwhelming. Jensen leaned in, his forehead resting gently against yours. “We’re going to get through this”, he whispered, his voice filled with unwavering resolve. “You and me, together”.

Dr. Martinez continued, “We’ll increase the dosage of the steroids to help the baby’s lungs develop faster, and we’ll keep monitoring both of you very closely. But we’ll be ready for an early delivery”.

The medical team moved with renewed urgency, adjusting your medications and preparing for every possible outcome.

As the hours dragged on, you felt a mixture of fear and determination. The contractions were relentless, each one a stark reminder of how early it was for your baby to be born. But Jensen’s unwavering support and the professionalism of the medical team gave you the strength to keep going.

At noon, after hours of relentless contractions and mounting exhaustion, you finally managed to get some sleep. Jensen had been reluctant to leave your side, but you insisted he get something to eat and take a moment to rest. With a kiss on your forehead and a promise to be back soon, he reluctantly agreed.

As you drifted into an exhausted slumber, Jensen settled onto the couch in your room. Despite his fatigue, he remained vigilant, occasionally closing his eyes but never fully succumbing to sleep. The steady hum of the monitors and the gentle footsteps of the medical staff filled the room, a constant reminder of the careful watch being kept over you and your baby.

The hours passed quietly. The nurses switched shifts, seamlessly continuing the diligent monitoring of your condition. They moved around the room with practiced ease, checking your vitals and adjusting medications, all while ensuring you remained as comfortable as possible.

From time to time, you woke up briefly, the contractions piercing through your sleep. Each time, a nurse was there, her calm voice and gentle touch helping you navigate the pain. Jensen would rouse from his light doze, his eyes immediately finding yours, offering a reassuring smile before you both drifted back to a light sleep.

In the late afternoon, the contractions began to grow more intense and frequent again. You felt a sense of urgency building within you. As another wave of pain gripped your abdomen, you let out a soft moan, waking Jensen with it.

He was at your side in an instant, his hand enveloping yours.

Dr. Martinez entered the room, her expression serious but calm. “How are you feeling?”, she asked, her eyes assessing you and the monitors.

“The contractions are getting stronger”, you managed to say through gritted teeth.

Dr. Martinez nodded. “We’re going to check your progress”, she said, donning gloves and positioning herself to examine you. After a few moments, she looked up, her expression thoughtful. “You’re dilating more rapidly. We need to prepare for delivery”.

Tears welled up in your eyes as you sniffed, the reality of the situation hitting hard. “But it’s too early”, you said, your voice trembling with fear.

Dr. Martinez gave you a reassuring look, her eyes filled with empathy. “I understand how scary this is, but I want you to know that at 32 weeks, your baby is already quite developed. His lungs may need some support, but with the right care, he has a very good chance of doing well. We’re going to be monitoring both of you very closely”.

Jensen squeezed your hand, his presence a calming anchor in the storm of emotions swirling around you. “We’ve got this”, he whispered, his voice filled with determination.

The contractions grew stronger and stronger, each one a wave of intense pain that seemed to engulf you completely. Time seemed to blur, and before you knew it, it was already 11 p.m. The hours had slipped by in a haze of pain and determination.

Dr. Martinez returned, her expression focused as she examined you again. “You’re making progress”, she said, her voice calm but firm. “But it’s not quite enough yet. We need you to keep going, just a little longer”.

You felt utterly exhausted, your body weak from the relentless pain and the effort of labor. Tears of frustration and fear welled up in your eyes, and you looked to Jensen for support. He was right beside you, his eyes wide and alert despite the exhaustion etched on his face, fueled by the copious amounts of coffee he had consumed to stay awake and present for you.

“I know it’s hard, but you’re so strong. We’re almost there”. He brushed a strand of hair away from your sweaty forehead.

You nodded, trying to draw strength from his words and his unwavering presence. The pain was overwhelming, but you focused on your breathing, on Jensen’s hand holding yours, and on the knowledge that each contraction brought you closer to meeting your baby.

Minutes turned into what felt like hours, each contraction testing the limits of your endurance.

It was 2 a.m. when the nurses began to prepare the room for the imminent delivery. The atmosphere was charged with a mix of anticipation and professionalism. Medical supplies and equipment were carefully arranged, ready for any potential complications with your baby’s lungs, a precaution due to the early delivery.

Dr. Martinez entered the room once more, her presence a comforting constant amidst the chaos. She approached you with a calm, focused expression. “Let’s see how you’re progressing”, she said, her voice steady.

You were exhausted, every muscle in your body screaming with fatigue, but you managed a nod. Jensen’s hand tightened around yours, his eyes never leaving your face.

Dr. Martinez conducted her examination, her brow furrowing slightly as she assessed the situation. After a few moments, she looked up, her expression one of determination. “You’re fully dilated”, she announced. “It’s time to start pushing”.

The room buzzed with renewed energy as the medical team sprang into action. The nurses adjusted your position, making sure you were as comfortable as possible, while Dr. Martinez explained what would happen next.

“You’re doing great”, she said, her voice filled with encouragement. “I need you to focus on pushing with each contraction. We’re going to meet your baby soon”.

Jensen leaned in close, his face filled with love and determination. “You’ve got this”, he whispered, his voice unwavering.

You took a deep breath and prepared yourself. The next contraction hit with intense force, and you bore down, pushing with all your might.

“That’s it”, Dr. Martinez encouraged, her eyes focused and reassuring. “Keep going. You’re doing amazing”.

Time seemed to blur again, each contraction merging into the next. Jensen’s presence was a constant, his words of love and support giving you the strength to push through the pain and exhaustion. Every push brought you closer to your baby, the thought of finally holding him in your arms driving you forward.

The room was filled with the sounds of the medical team’s focused work, the steady beeping of monitors, and Jensen’s steady voice. “Almost there”, he kept saying, his eyes never leaving yours.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, Dr. Martinez’s voice broke through the haze. “I can see the head”, she said, her tone filled with encouragement. “You’re doing it. Just a few more pushes”.

Tears streamed down your face as you continued to push, your body feeling like it had reached its limit. Your hand, now weak in Jensen’s, trembled with exhaustion. The pain was overwhelming, and despite the encouragement from the medical team and Jensen, you felt a wave of doubt and desperation wash over you.

“I can’t”, you whimpered, your voice breaking with the weight of your exhaustion and fear. “I can’t do it”.

Jensen’s heart broke seeing you in so much pain, but he knew he had to stay strong for you. He leaned in even closer, his forehead resting gently against yours, his eyes filled with unwavering determination and love.

“Yes, you can”, he whispered, his voice steady and filled with conviction. “You’re the strongest person I know. Our baby needs you, and I know you can do this. Just one more push, okay? We’re so close”.

Dr. Martinez added her calm encouragement. “You’re doing wonderfully. Your baby is almost here. Just one more big push”.

You took a deep, shaky breath, before you closed your eyes, focusing on the warmth of Jensen’s touch and the steady rhythm of his breathing. As the next contraction hit, you summoned every ounce of strength left in your body and pushed with all you had.

Despite giving everything you had, the next push wasn’t enough to bring your baby into the world. The exhaustion felt insurmountable, and you felt the weight of your efforts crashing down on you.

Dr. Martinez’s voice cut through the haze, calm yet encouraging. “That’s it, you’re doing great. We’re almost there”.

You could feel Jensen’s hand nearly crushed in your grip as you summoned every ounce of strength for the next round of pushes. The room seemed to fade away, leaving only the sound of Dr. Martinez’s voice and the urgency of the moment.

“Push, push, push!”, Dr. Martinez urged gently but firmly, her words urging you onward.

With each push, you felt the strain in every muscle, the fatigue pushing against you like an unyielding force. But through the pain and exhaustion, the thought of meeting your baby fueled your determination.

“There’s the head!”, Dr. Martinez announced, her voice filled with encouragement. “Keep pushing, we’re almost there!”.

You felt a surge of adrenaline and pushed again, feeling the intense pressure as your baby’s head finally emerged. Every second felt like an eternity, the fatigue threatening to overwhelm you. But you kept pushing. And with after one powerful push, there was a sudden, incredible release of pressure, and you felt your baby slide into the world. The room was filled with a collective intake of breath.

But the momentary silence that followed was deafening. Your baby didn’t cry. He didn’t make a sound. Panic surged through you as Dr. Martinez and the neonatal team sprang into action.

“He’s not breathing”, Dr. Martinez said calmly, though you could hear the urgency in her voice. The nurses quickly took your baby to the neonatal table, their movements swift and precise. Jensen’s grip on your hand tightened, his eyes wide with fear and concern.

“What’s happening?”, you whispered, your voice trembling. “Why isn’t he crying?”.

Jensen looked at you, his own fear barely contained. “They’re doing everything they can”, he said, trying to sound reassuring. “He’s in good hands”.

The seconds stretched into agonizing minutes as you watched the medical team work on your baby. They were administering oxygen and performing gentle chest compressions, their faces masks of professional concentration.

“Come on, little guy”, Jensen murmured, his voice breaking. “You can do this”.

Dr. Martinez continued her efforts, her calm demeanor never wavering. Then, after what felt like an eternity, a tiny, fragile cry pierced the air. It was weak, but it was there. Relief and joy surged through you, and tears streamed down your face.

Jensen exhaled a breath he didn’t know he had been holding. His eyes glistened with unshed tears as he leaned down to kiss your forehead, his gaze never leaving the tiny, fragile form of your baby. His hand trembled slightly as he brushed a strand of hair from your face.

“He’s crying”, Jensen whispered, his voice thick with emotion.

The sound of your baby’s cry, though weak, filled the room. It was a beautiful, heartbreaking sound that tugged at your heartstrings. You looked at Jensen, his eyes reflecting the same mix of relief and concern that you felt.

The neonatal team continued their work, ensuring your baby was stable and breathing properly. Dr. Martinez moved back to your side, her expression reassuring. “He’s doing better now”.

Jensen’s grip on your hand tightened, his eyes never leaving your baby. “He’s so small”, he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper.

As Dr. Martinez and the nurses moved to fix you up, cleaning and stitching where necessary, your eyes remained locked on your baby’s fragile form. The emotions swirling inside you were almost too heavy to bear, and silent tears streamed down your face. Jensen’s grip on your hand tightened, his thumb gently stroking your skin in a soothing gesture.

“He’s so so small”, Jensen murmured again, his voice filled with a mixture of awe and concern.

The nurses worked quickly and efficiently, ensuring that you were as comfortable as possible while also preparing your baby for the next steps in his care. The neonatal team continued to monitor his vital signs.

“When can I hold him?”, you asked shakily, your voice barely above a whisper. The need to hold your baby, to feel his warmth against your skin, was overwhelming.

Dr. Martinez looked at you with empathy. “We need to make sure he’s stable first”, she said gently. “But I promise, as soon as it’s safe, we’ll let you hold him”.

Your heart ached with longing, but you nodded, understanding the importance of your baby’s health and stability. Jensen leaned in closer, pressing another kiss to your forehead. “He’s going to be okay”, he whispered, his voice filled with conviction.

The minutes passed slowly as you and Jensen watched the medical team care for your son. Despite the initial scare, his cries grew a bit stronger, and his breathing became more regular. Each small sign of improvement filled you with hope.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, one of the neonatal nurses approached you with a gentle smile. “He’s doing better”, she said. “He’s stable enough for you to hold him for a little while”.

Tears of relief filled your eyes as the nurse carefully lifted your baby from the incubator and brought him over to you.

It was the first time both of you were able to truly look at him. The sight of your baby connected to tubes and monitors broke your heart even more. His tiny cries echoed softly in the room, a fragile reminder of his early arrival. But as the nurse carefully lifted him and brought him closer, his cries began to quiet.

The nurse gently lowered your hospital gown and placed his little body on your bare chest. His skin was warm and soft, and you barely felt his weight. At just 1750 grams and about 41 centimeters when stretched out, he was incredibly small. But right now, he was all curled up against your chest, seeking comfort and warmth.

The moment he made contact with you, his tiny body seemed to relax. His cries faded into soft, contented sounds, and he nestled into you, his little hands curling instinctively against your skin. Tears of overwhelming love and relief streamed down your face as you held him close, your heart swelling with a mixture of awe and protectiveness.

Jensen leaned in closer, his eyes shining with tears of joy as he looked at your son. “He’s beautiful”, he whispered.

You nodded, unable to find the words to express the depth of your emotions. You gently stroked your baby’s back, marveling at the softness of his skin and the tiny movements he made as he adjusted against you. His breathing, though aided by the tubes, seemed steadier now, and you could feel the rhythmic rise and fall of his chest against yours.

“Hi, little one”, you whispered, your voice thick with emotion. “Welcome to the world”.

The nurse smiled warmly, her eyes reflecting the tender moment. “Skin-to-skin contact is very important”, she said softly. “It helps regulate his body temperature, heart rate, and breathing. You’re doing great”.

Dr. Martinez approached and looked down at you, her expression gentle yet optimistic. “He’s doing incredibly well”, she said, her voice filled with reassurance. “His lungs are stronger than we expected for a baby born at 32 weeks. If he continues to progress like this, we might be able to remove the tubes tomorrow”.

Relief and hope surged through you at her words. “Really?”, you asked, your voice trembling with emotion. “That’s amazing”.

Dr. Martinez nodded, a smile spreading across her face. “Yes, he’s a strong little boy. The initial struggles are common, but he’s responding well to the treatments and your care. We’ll monitor him closely, but I’m very optimistic”.

Jensen’s eyes shone with pride and joy. “Did you hear that, little guy?”, he whispered, his voice filled with emotion. “You’re doing so well. We’re so proud of you”.

A few minutes later, a nurse spoke up. “I’m sorry, but we need to put him back in the incubator now”, she said gently. “He needs to stay warm and continue getting the support he needs”.

Jensen’s face showed a mix of longing and understanding. He hadn’t even had the chance to hold his son yet, and you could see the pain of that in his eyes. You gave him a small, reassuring smile, knowing that his time would come soon.

You looked down at your tiny son, savoring the last few moments before he had to go back to the incubator. “We love you so much”, you whispered, your voice thick with emotion. “Stay strong”.

The nurse carefully lifted your baby from your chest, and his tiny cries resumed briefly before he was settled back in the incubator. Despite the brief time you had held him, you felt a profound connection that gave you strength and hope.

You watched with tears in your eyes as they wheeled your baby away, the incubator providing a cocoon of warmth and safety. The sight of his tiny form surrounded by the equipment necessary to support his early arrival tugged at your heart, but you knew it was what he needed to grow stronger.

After a few moments, the nurses gently helped you into a wheelchair, preparing to take you to your room. Jensen was right by your side, his hand never leaving yours. You could see the worry etched on his face, despite his best efforts to hide it. He tried to maintain a calm and reassuring demeanor, but the disappointment and concern were clear in his eyes. He wanted nothing more than for his son to be healthy and for you to be happy.

As you were wheeled down the hall, Jensen stayed close. He helped you settle into your room, adjusting the blankets and making sure you were comfortable. His movements were gentle but filled with a restless energy, reflecting his inner turmoil.

Once you were settled, Jensen pulled a chair close to your bed and sat down, his eyes meeting yours. “How are you feeling?”, he asked softly, his voice tinged with concern.

“I’m okay”, you replied, though the exhaustion and emotional strain were evident in your voice. “Just…worried".

Jensen reached out and took your hand, squeezing it gently. “He’s a fighter”, he said, his voice filled with conviction. “He’s already shown us how strong he is. And the doctors and nurses here are incredible. They’re going to take great care of him”.

You nodded, trying to draw strength from his words. “I just wish we could hold him. It feels so hard to let him go back to the incubator”.

“I know”, Jensen said, his eyes reflecting the same longing. “I haven’t even had the chance to hold him yet. But we have to trust that this is what he needs right now. He’ll be in our arms soon enough”.

The minutes ticked by slowly, the room filled with a heavy silence as both of you processed the events of the day.

“I’m so proud of you”, Jensen said suddenly, his voice breaking the silence. “You’ve been so strong through all of this. I can’t imagine how hard it must be, but you’ve handled it with so much courage”.

Tears welled up in your eyes again, and you gave him a small, grateful smile.

Jensen leaned in and kissed your forehead tenderly. “Try to sleep, baby”, he whispered, his voice soothing and gentle. “He’s in good hands. We need to be strong for him”.

You nodded, knowing he was right, but the emotions swirling within you made it hard to relax. Jensen stayed by your side, his hand still holding yours, offering silent support. You closed your eyes, trying to let the exhaustion take over, but your mind kept drifting back to your son.

As you lay there, you felt Jensen’s presence next to you, a comforting anchor in the storm of emotions. His thumb gently traced circles on the back of your hand, a rhythmic and calming motion that gradually helped you drift closer to sleep.

The room was quiet, save for the soft hum of the hospital equipment and the occasional distant sound from the hallways.

Despite the worry gnawing at your heart, the physical and emotional toll of the day eventually pulled you into a restless sleep.

Jensen stayed awake for a while longer, his eyes fixed on you as you slept. He brushed a stray tear from your cheek, his heart aching with the weight of his own emotions. He wanted nothing more than to see you and your baby boy healthy and happy.

Eventually, Jensen drifted asleep with his head resting beside you on the bed, his hand still holding yours. The emotional and physical exhaustion of the day had finally caught up to him, and despite his best efforts to stay vigilant, he succumbed to the need for rest.

After about an hour, the nurse returned to check your vitals. She moved quietly and efficiently, her practiced hands ensuring you were stable. As she looked over at Jensen, she saw him sleeping uncomfortably, his body awkwardly slumped over the side of the bed.

With a gentle smile, the nurse approached Jensen and softly touched his shoulder. “Mr. Ackles”, she whispered, her voice gentle and kind. “You should rest on the couch. You’ll be more comfortable there”.

Jensen stirred, blinking sleepily as he looked up at the nurse, then at you. He nodded, realizing she was right. “Thank you”, he mumbled, his voice hoarse with fatigue. He gently released your hand, making sure not to disturb you, and stood up.

The nurse helped him get settled on the small couch in the corner of the room. She adjusted a blanket over him and made sure he had a pillow for support. “Try to get some rest”, she said softly. “Your wife and baby need you strong and well-rested too”.

Jensen nodded gratefully, the weight of the day’s emotions still evident in his tired eyes. Even though you weren’t married, hearing the nurse refer to you as his wife stirred something inside him. It was a thought he had pondered before, but in that moment, the significance of it resonated deeply. However, he was too exhausted to dwell on it for long.

Within seconds, Jensen fell asleep on the couch, the blanket providing a small measure of comfort as he finally allowed himself to rest.

———————————

A/N: Please let me know what you think.🥰

Part 5

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