briseroyawritingsblog

[briseroyawritingsblog]

Hello Logan from 2013’s The Wolverine. Not enough talk about you and that is a travesty quite frankly

[briseroyawritingsblog]

𖤐 — mission: pads and patience

pairing - eddie alden ft. fem!reader

summary - what happens when you ask eddie to buy your pads during the red month?

contents - fluff, period talking, suggestive, dramatic eddie, playful banters, established relationship.

words count -  1493 words

zayn's note - heii guys!! sorry for not posting regularly. I just finished my final exams and yippee I'm glad to be back!! hope you guys will enjoy this and more fics will come soon!! <3

Eddie Alden wasn't supposed to be the kind of man who settles down.

He was the punchline to half of your stories. You've heard the stories—hell, you knew some of the firsthand when you two were just workmates. He was the man your coworkers warned you about: silver-tongued, the coworker who never turned down a party, always five seconds from convincing someone into bed. The man who gave advice no one should follow and got away with it because he looked like that and smiled like sin.

But somewhere along the line—maybe during one of those late nights when you were both tipsy and tired of pretending—Eddie stopped looking at other people the way he looked at you.

And he never looked back.

He's still dramatic. Still flirty. Still hopelessly, Eddie. But the late-night phone calls are only ever for you now. His toothbrush lives beside yours. And when he makes coffee in the morning, he doesn't even ask anymore—he just adds a splash of vanilla creamer, two sugars, and kisses your shoulder as he hands it to you.

The infamous womanizer Eddie Alden is someone's else. 

Rain taps gently at the window as you lie curled up on the couch, wrapped in your thickest blanket. A heating pad hums on your stomach, the cramps coming in steady waves. You've given up trying to move. Even scrolling on your phone feels like too much.

Then, your screen lights up.

Eddie: On my way home. Need anything, gorgeous?

You smile, even through the discomfort. Your uterus is staging a mutiny and the pad stash under the sink is depressingly empty.

You type back: Can you grab some pads? Overnight ones with wings pls :3

Three dots bubble on the screen and you could swear it takes him only THREE seconds to reply.

Eddie: OH NO. THAT MEANS WE CAN'T FUCK?!

You choke out a laugh so hard you nearly dislodge the heating pad. Immediately, you hit the call button.

He picks up on the first ring with a gasp. “Sweetheart,” he says, like he's delivering a eulogy. “Say it ain’t so.”

“Hi to you too,” you say, already laughing.

“Tell me I misread that text. Say it was a typo. Say you meant ‘peach wine’ and autocorrect betrayed us.”

“I meant pads.”

He groans. “I had plans tonight. And not just plans, babe. Schemes. Elaborate, x-rated choreography. And now… ruined.”

“They were never confirmed plans,” you say through your giggles.

“They were spiritual plans,” he argues, “plans of the soul. I was going to light candles, touch your thighs like a gentleman, and do that thing with my tongue—”

“Eddie!”

“—and now, because of your cruel and vengeful uterus, I must live in sorrow. And buy pads.”

You press your face into the pillow, shaking with laughter. The fact that you could actually imagine his reaction through the phone call is hilarious. 

“Do you know what it's like to walk into the feminine hygiene aisle with an erection and a broken heart? I'm a man on the edge.”

“You're a man getting pads for his girlfriend. Be brave. Plus, I'm not dying, you know,” you say once you can breathe again. “It's just my period.”

“Exactly!” he replies. “It's the just that hurts the most.”

You groan playfully.

A pause. Then his voice softens just a little. “The same purple pack, right? Overnight. Wings.”

“Yeah,” you say. “Thanks, baby.” 

You're still smiling long after the call ends. The cramps are annoying, your body is betraying you, and the weather sucks—but Eddie's coming home. With pads. And probably way too many snacks.

That's enough.

You must doze off, because the next thing you hear is the soft clicks of the front door and the familiar sound of Eddie kicking his boots.

“Sleeping Beauty,” he calls, voice low and fond. “Your knight returns. Armed with provisions.”

You stir, blinking blearily, as he steps into the living room with the dramatic flair of a man who has never entered quietly in his life. Rain clings to his jacket, and his hair is damp, pushed back like he just stepped out of a rom-com poster.

He pulls out the purple pack like he's unsheathing Excalibur. “Ta-da!”

You squint at the package. “You really got the right ones?”

“Do you doubt me?” he asks, mock-offended. “I walked into that aisle with the confidence of a man who once had a threesome in the office stairwell and came out reborn as your humble pad-bearer.”

You laugh but your arms are already stretching open. It's automatic now—whenever Eddie's around, you want him close. Touch is like oxygen these days.

He notices. Of course he does.

“Ohhh, look at that,” he says, pointing with dramatic flair. “Cling activated. Look at you. Just a little puddle of neediness.”

“Shut up and hug me.”

“Needy,” he whispers, shaking his head like you've disappointed him deeply. “Desperate. Pathetic.”

But he's already walking over. Already dropping the bag on the floor and crouching down to your level. He slides an arm around your waist and pulls you in like he was born for it—like every cell in his body exists just to do this.

His scent hits you instantly. Rain. Leather. The lingering trace of his cologne.

“God, you're cold,” you murmur against his shoulder.

“God, you're clingy,” he retorts, but his hand is already at the back of your head, cradling it like he's soothing something fragile.

“You love it.”

“I do,” he admits easily. “Sick little koala.”

You breathe him in. He holds you tighter and neither of you moves for a while.

A soft, tired sigh leaves your lips. “Ugh, my stomach's killing me.”

Immediately, Eddie's hand rubs slow, calming circles against your back.

“I know, baby,” he says, quieter now. “I got you. We're gonna make it better, alright?”

His voice is warm and low, almost reverent. He presses a kiss to the top of your head and stays for a long beat before whispering, “Stay here. I'm getting your chamomile tea and snacks.”

Then he disappears into the kitchen.

You hear rustling, the fridge opening, and the kettle clicking on. When he returns, it's with a mug of chamomile tea, a snack bag full of chocolate, and—God help you—a duck-shaped heat pack.

“Why is it a duck?” you ask, your eyebrows raised.

“Because love makes you stupid,” he says. “Now take it. Don't say I never spoil you.”

You trade the old heating pad for the duck and the moment your hand wraps around the tea, you sigh. “You're being very sweet today.”

“I'm always sweet,” he says, sitting beside you and pulling you gently against his chest. “You just usually notice it after orgasms.”

You snort. “So noble. So selfless.”

“I know,” he whispers into your hair. “I should get a medal for being denied sex and still being this amazing.”

“You're so brave.”

“I am.”

Hours later, the sky darkened. The rain is softer now, a hush over the city. You’ve migrated to bed in slow, sleepy steps, your body still heavy with cramps, your heart just a little lighter.

Eddie slips under the covers first, stretching out with a content sigh, then opens his arms in invitation. “Come here, you bleeding goddess.”

You groan and crawl into his arms, finding your place against his bare chest like muscle memory. His skin is warm, his touch soft as he runs his fingers down your spine.

“Better?” he asks.

“Mm. A little.”

“I’d offer a back massage, but I fear I’d get too turned on.”

“Jesus, Eddie."

He grins against your hair. “I’m suffering, baby. I can’t even lie. But I’m being good.”

You tilt your head up to look at him. “You’re not mad?”

“Mad?” He cups your cheek. “Of course not. I mean, am I aroused to the point of spiritual crisis? Yes. But you’re bleeding. And in pain. And you still let me hold you like this. That’s more than enough.”

You blink. His voice is quieter now, the playfulness dialed down to something real.

“Seriously,” he adds. “I used to wake up alone next to people I didn’t even like. And now I get to wake up beside the love of my life. Period or not. That’s a win.”

You swallow the lump in your throat and press your face into his chest.

He lets a beat of silence pass, then says, “Still gonna write tragic poetry in my Notes app about it.”

You groan. “I knew you couldn’t help yourself.”

“It’s called ‘Red Tide of My Despair’—”

You squeak, pushing at him. “No.”

“A River of Lust, A Dam of Sadness—”

“No, Eddie—”

“The Crimson Abyss of Blue Balls—”

“Good. Night.”

He chuckles, then settles down again, arms locked tight around you, mouth brushing your temple.

You feel him relax as you drift. Safe. Warm. Held.

Even with the cramps. Even with the inconvenience. Even with the duck-shaped heat pack between you.

He’s here.

And he's yours.

reblogs and feedbacks are appreciated!!

dividers by: @dollywons

tags!! @princessanglophile @themareverine @wchswift @dimlylittorch @mcrdvcks @briseroyawritingsblog @howlettsangel @flowersforbucky @lubdubology @xxladymjxx @sweetverine @tezooks @loganismybodyguard [lmk if you wanna be added or removed!!]

[briseroyawritingsblog]

[briseroyawritingsblog]

why oh why oh why is there not more Drover and Sarah fic???

[briseroyawritingsblog]

[briseroyawritingsblog]

👀

another honourable mention

[briseroyawritingsblog]

can he just cum inside me already jesus fuck

[briseroyawritingsblog]

just wanna stick my face under his arm and sniff that hunkiness 😮‍💨🫠🤧✨

Hugh Jackman

[briseroyawritingsblog]

my prince 🤧✨

JDMORGANZ’S FOLLOWER CELEBRATION Top 10 Hugh Jackman Characters (as voted by my followers) ↳ #4. Leopold - Kate & Leopold

[briseroyawritingsblog]

BRI!!! MY SWEET FRIEND 💖 I MISSED YOU 😘

Here's your man for ya I love you.

this is so sweet!! thank you!

[briseroyawritingsblog]

YOUR NEW THEME. BE STILL MY BEATING VAGINA.

It was time to update my girly! 🥺🤍✨✨✨

[briseroyawritingsblog]

Happy Friday! It’s a beautiful morning! ☀️😋 I miss you! ✨👉👈🤭

Good Morning darling I miss you so much!!! 🤍✨💕

[briseroyawritingsblog]

𝐁𝐑𝐈𝐒𝐄𝐑𝐎𝐘𝐀’𝐒 ‘𝐅𝐔𝐓𝐔𝐑𝐈𝐒𝐓𝐈𝐂 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄𝐑’ 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 —

• my writings are always rated +18 and above and I don’t recommend minors to look at my works because it contains smut. minors do not interact. this blog is simply to write out my mind. I do not allow my work to be copied, claimed as own or posted on other socials.

• this masterlist will contain fics written with hugh jackman & logan howlett.

divider by @cafekitsune 🩷

• futuristic lover : logan x fem!synth!reader — ♡ ❥

• i can’t let you go : logan x fem!synth!reader — ♡ ❥

• it beats for you : logan x fem!synth!reader — ♡ ❥

• within you : logan x fem!synth!reader — ♡

• bound to you : logan x fem!synth!reader — ♡ ❥

- completed. 🤍💕☁️

-

[briseroyawritingsblog]

✨💌

ohhhh mav is my inbox 🥺🤍🤍✨ Hiiiii!!

[briseroyawritingsblog]

Being Hugh Jackman's controversially young girlfriend - a moodboard

[briseroyawritingsblog]

Now I want to ride that ✨Stache✨. I’m sorry who even said that?! —

Hugh! From this evening it seems. Both Hugh and ‘Stache looking magnificent 🤩

(posted on Facebook by Alexander’s & Co restaurant)

[briseroyawritingsblog]

𝐁𝐑𝐈𝐒𝐄𝐑𝐎𝐘𝐀’𝐒 ‘𝐈𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐒𝐂𝐑𝐈𝐁𝐀𝐁𝐋𝐄 𝐓𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐒’ 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 —

• +18 to read, warning this masterlist is going to be containing topics like smut and other mature themes.

• this masterlist will contain my daily thoughts, and random rambles about ‘Logan ‘wolverine’ Howlett. Please enjoy, don’t forget to like, comment, reblog. 🤍

divider by @anitalenia

— COMING SOON!!

-

-

-

-