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simp4konig · 7 months

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"Can't sleep?" König x Gender-neutral Reader

Word count: 3704

Having flashbacks about the battlefield and unable to fall asleep after an exceptionally draining mission, you go seek the comfort of your Colonel in the middle of the night.

*Slow burn

*ANGST!!💔... dw it gets wholesome at the end i promise ❤️

*Thanj you to Azzy!! (My No.1 Fan...🥹🫂💘) for this request !!!🙋🏼‍♀️💫💞💞✨Love u too🫶💕,, I kind of 🥺slightly🥺 maube a littke bit🥺🥺🥺went off prompt and König isnt affected by the mission per se BUT i have fulfilled the CUDDLING part!!! ☺️☺️pls dont show up to my fhome with pitchforks and torches im sry it just sorta happened ok😱

Also i rhink i have dementia bc I thought someone else rqsted König comfortinf rreader in a storm???😰😰Turns out nobody did so maybe i hallucinated it or smtj idk🤷🏼‍♀️Anyways I thought to merge these two ideas together so lmk what u think abt this lil (by "lil" i mean WAY too long🤪) drabble🙏💕

*Reader is pining for König

*Events loosely take place in the KönigxKing (as in, reader's call-sign is "King" storyline) mini-series. This serves as a slight backstory for King (reader). Again, this is by no means in any chronological order in relation to the series, so this can also be read as stand-alone! :)

*THANK YOU FOR 100+ FOLLOWERS!!!!!! 🥳🎉🎊✨🎇💖I SWEAR ONE IT LITERALLT FEELS LIKE MID-AUGUST WHEN I HAD LIKE 7 WHERE DID U ALL COME FEOM??????😰😰💘 IT MEANS SO MUCH FOR ME LIKE I CANR STRESS THIS ENOIGH BC IM SO HAPPG U GUYS THINK MEWORTHY ENOIGH OF YOUR PRECIOUS FOLLOW AND WANT TO READ MY WACK WORKS!!!!!!🤧🤧💖💖 LIKE??????? 🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹THANK U THABK YOU RHABK YOU!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! 🫶🥰🥰💖💖💖❤️💞💞💕💖💕💕💞

...

You couldn't sleep.

It was raining relentlessly outside, the pitter-patter of water droplets hitting your window. Storm clouds boomed loudly outside, and despite the blinds being pulled tightly shut, lightning occasionally flashed through the cracks, elongated shadows of buildings forming on the walls.

Counting down the seconds until you'd hear the rumbling thunder, it would only be a few kilometres away, and you'd shudder at the sound, shivering.

While tossing and turning in bed, you had kicked off your covers and were staring at the ceiling, still wide awake. Normally, a storm like this would be like a lullaby to your ears, yet now it did nothing in helping lull you to sleep.

Even if you wanted to sleep, how could you when those corpses haunted your nightmares?

Laying in bed, your mind replayed the same scenes like a movie reel, the same screams like a broken record:

Lifeless, unblinking eyes with mouths agape and an expression of fear permanently engraved on their pale faces; flies swarming in hordes to harvest the soft tissues of the irises and tongue, eating the human mush; limbs contorted in unnatural positions, arms and legs crushed by the force of detonated mines, bones broken under the weight.

Rumbling roaring of machine guns and the deafening explosions from hand grenades meant that the high-pitched ringing would drown out everybody's yelling, muffle all noise from your surroundings, and you'd only be pulled out of your daze when you'd find yourself stumbling on unstable ground, on bricks and cheap concrete that had all crumbled.

Bodies would drop so fast it'd take at least seconds for you to register whether it had been an enemy or an ally.

You'd pull the trigger, but seeing a bullet go through someone's forehead and the exaggerated shock stamped on their face — a permanent expression in their final seconds remaining forever in death — left you wondering why you would ever sign up willingly to do this.

Disorientated, you'd struggle to pull yourself together, would enter far too many close calls for a soldier to count, and would only get a grip once you saw a familiar face, a reminder that you weren't alone in the warzone.

Even now, the sonorous sound kept echoing in your head, and, if you listened closely, it resembled hundreds of hoarse shouts, so many people screaming at once in collective agony.

You flinched as a bolt of lightning suddenly struck the sky.

Sparing an absentminded glance at your digital alarm clock, your eyes widened slightly at the time: 1:56am.

Damn... you thought. ...it's that late already?

Drills would begin at 7 o'clock, and you had to have woken up at 6 to brush your teeth, get dressed, eat, and mentally prepare yourself for the day, so you kissed a good night's sleep goodbye, and accepted the telling off from your superiors the following morning for under-performing.

...Still, how could you sleep after what you had experienced? What you experienced and would continue experiencing?

Accepting high-pressure missions and a demanding workload once you had enlisted, you thought that your ability to keep calm under pressure and stay composed would mean that you would have been unaffected by the shooting by now, and be taking everything in your stride. Calm, composed, and unaffected, is what you had thought you'd be. Surely you'd be able capable enough to cope with it all?

Yet, you weren't any of those things. Never getting used to the stress that would persist even while on supposedly "low-intensity" extractions. You'd always be on edge, always recoiling at hands that would reach over to tap your back as encouragement or hold your shoulder in reassurance on base.

You believed you could never familiarise yourself with the panic and unpredictability of missions and being hyper-aware of something, anything, everything going wrong, with the adrenaline that would course through your body and take over your senses in times of fight or flight, with the nerves that would keep you on edge hours after landing safely on base.

But, most of all, with the nights you'd lay in bed, unable to fall asleep: nights like these, when every time you closed your eyes, you saw the eyes of dying comrades; when every time you walked along the corridors, imagined yourself diving across the floor and felt shattered shrapnel breaking under your feet; when every time you sat in an empty room, heard ear-piercing blasts and the ricochet of discarded shells just missing your head.

Whereas the other operators seemed to be completed unmoved by any of their deployments and would shrug their shoulders off of the events, the anxiety for you lingered, trauma deep within your soul consuming you whole.

How could you ever get over the fact that you were shooting real people? Losing real soldiers?

...Losing yourself along the way?

All this work took a toll on your psyche, but comparing yourself to the other soldiers made you feel like such a coward, and second-guess ever enlisting in the first place.

...Well, you did so because it had been your only option all things considered, but looking back on it, you thought that maybe it would have been better if you hadn't chosen anything at all.

Accepted the grave nature of your failures in life, the same life that would have had inevitably ended with you pre-maturely in a grave.

After all, you had no job prospects to look forward to, no dreams to strive for, no aspirations to achieve.

Failing your school exams time and time again until you had finally achieved a result that was good enough didn't earn you any security, as you weren't exactly employable with grades you had just barely managed to claw to even pass.

Really, it was hopeless. You were hopeless.

To say your family was disappointed in you would have been an understatement. Out of three children, you were labelled the disappointment child, the underachiever and failure.

Your two siblings worked as a lawyer and an engineer respectively, while you had never even been able to grasp the basics in education, never spoke with your teachers of anything other than the worrying results of your exams, never came home to share a thing with your parents you had accomplished with a smile of pride stretched on your young face like your siblings did.

Never. Because you weren't ever good enough.

At the dinner table, your siblings boasted of promotions and of revolutionary research, of trials and of successes, of their brilliant breakthroughs, as you sat on the side of the table, listening from the sidelines, excluded from all of the grandeur that you couldn't relate to.

Still, it was always better to keep your mouth shut than to make a dent in the conversation, further embarass yourself and prove how lowly you were, than to have so many pairs of pitying eyes talking down on you in patronising tones, of the subtle condolences from your parents and their regret with triumphant smirks and condescending attitude from your siblings.

In a last ditch effort to make your parents proud, you made the decision of joining the military. You were young and impressionable, under the impression that your parents would finally be impressed.

...Of course, they weren't. In fact, your decision made them even more disappointed, shaking their heads sympathetically with strained smiles stretched on their lips.

Maybe that was the reason you couldn't handle the pressure of the military, you thought. You were weak, incompetent. Pathetic.

Although no one told you explicitly or made you feel that way directly, somehow, you always had felt inferior. Somehow, you felt that no matter what you did, how much you did, how well you thought you did, you wouldn't ever come close to the others's level.

That, despite your effort and dedication, you would never be good enough. Would always be inferior no matter what, because you always had been and would always be so.

...Your Colonel never made you feel that way, though, and you never quite understood why.

After all, your interactions were few-far-and-inbetween. It made you wonder what made you feel this way, and what spark ignited the warmth you'd feel when he was around.

Although a man of few words, the words that he did say to you would matter, though. His praise, his acknowledgement, his always being there made you want to keep going and prove your worth to him.

It started off as sporadic encouragement:

Your skin glistening with sweat, an accented voice would say "Gute Arbeit," over your crumpled body on the gym mat.

Offering you a gloved hand, you grasped it gratefully, and he pulled your tired body with ease. "Good job, King."

A lopsided smile from you as you'd wipe the sweat from your forehead and brows after sparring with someone else, limp limbs barely keeping you standing. His eyes were betrayed no emotion under his veil, yet a thin-lipped grin was behind it.

"Thank— you— sir!" You'd manage to breathe out, still panting for breath. "I did— my best, but— I didn't win."

"That does not matter," he'd say, speaking in a tone you couldn't quite recognize. "Very good job. Keep it going. Soon, you'll be able to pin even me down."

You'd laugh weakly at his words, yet would immediately feel a surge of motivation to keep working hard, and would train up to the point of exhaustion behind closed doors. Thinking you'd be alone, you'd punch a dufflebag with grunts of effort, missing the tall silhouette observing you with crossed arms in the corner, satisfied.

Then, those became casual greetings;

"Guten Morgen, soldier. Nice day, ja?"

Turning around, you'd see your Colonel walking towards you, frame visible even from a distance.

You smile broadly, eyes crinkling up in genuine joy, before you caught yourself and coughed. "Y-yeah!"

"Always a nice day whenever you're around, sir," you'd tease, playfully winking at him as he approached you, yet you were yet to master it without blinking both eyes.

He'd chuckle heartily, flattered, then shook his head to hide how his face flushed under his veil, and held up a hand.

"Thank Gott I have you here. My day would have been ruined."

"Have a good day, sir!" You'd call after him brightly, and he'd turn around for a final time with a two-fingered salute. Strange, since he was your superior, not the other way around, but you shrugged this off as a friendly gesture.

Until it developed into a sort of mutual connection.

In your eyes, at least.

You didn't want to assume that you two were friends, as the man was way out of your league. Strong, muscular, and a disciplined soldier — a Colonel, no less — a man of influence.

Besides, he, conversing with the only-recently-recruit-turned-soldier that was the slowest to understand a joke, did not comprehend complicated terms, and was the least bright out of the entire faction was not something you wanted him to be associated as, didn't want to tarnish his reputation.

You reasoned that you didn't want to bring down the Colonel down to your low level, so you kept your relationship as just that; associates. Aquaintances. Nothing more, out of respect for your Colonel.

Little did you know, the Colonel had developed a soft spot for you.

It seemed as though the storm had gotten worse, as the rain was unrelenting, and the tapping on the glass increased with force. Booming thunderclouds made your room shake.

A sigh as you turned to your side again. 2:07am.

Your thoughts moved back to your Colonel, and you started missing him, longing for him. The warmth that radiated off him made you wish he'd take you in his arms, hold you close to his chest, and you suddenly felt so cold. So lonely and cold.

Maybe it was childish of you to be feeling this way — he was your superior, after all, and you had no reason to be so attached — yet your daily encounters made you gain feelings for the man. Made you feel things when he was around.

Somehow, he brought you security. Made you feel protected. Safe. Like you could always count on him for having your back.

Made you forget that you were so useless, and was the reason for the fuzzyness within your chest, the buzzing feeling you'd feel as you'd be grinning from ear to ear after speaking to him.

Made you feel like you weren't pathetic. Weren't a wasted wishing star. Instead, you were appreciated, seen, even.

You wanted to see him. You wanted to be with him.

...Would he want you, though?

No. Of course he wouldn't. You weren't good enough.

A deep sigh. 2:15, the digital alarm clock displayed.

...What if he actually did want you? Not even as a partner, but just to be around him? Breathe the same air as him? You thought you weren't worthy of his time, but maybe, just maybe he wouldn't see it as such a waste.

Another crash of lightning brought you to your senses.

Finally making up your mind, you huffed in exertion as you pushed yourself off your stiff mattress, not bothering to organize the mess of blankets on the floor.

Walking with certainty, before you realised it, you were at König's bedroom door. Standing behind the door, hand hesitatingly reaching for the handle, you bit your lip, confidence wavering.

Should you really go through with this right now? What if he was asleep at that moment and all you'd do is disrupt his slumber? It wouldn't be fair of you to disturb him so late in the night, especially when he had so many responsibilities.

Still, you inhaled deeply, and, as quietly as you could, knocked twice.

You almost jumped out of your skin at the familiar accented voice of your Colonel.

"Come in," he said hoarsely. His tone was almost warm, inviting, yet you shook your head at the idea, and pulled the handle.

Entering inside, you slowly closed the door behind you. When you turned around, König was sitting on the edge of his bed, elbows resting on his knees, seemingly deep in thought. Wearing a tank top and cargo pants, his head was hung low, his veil hanging loosely over his head.

The blinds were drawn open to reveal the sky dominated by darkness, the grey curtain of monochrome on the nearest buildings cast down by the clouds, the raindrops that remained on the windows and the rhythmic echoes against the pavement as they dropped in syncopation.

The sight, his presence, were both so... relaxing. In a way, your anxiety was relieved by the tranquility of the scene, and it made you forget the internal turnoil you had been going through for the past few hours, made the tension in your body fade.

"Ah, King," his arms dropped to his sides and he raised his head to meet your eyes in the dark. "I had a feeling that it would be you."

You fidgeted nervously, not knowing what to do.

"Bitte, schön," he said, patting the empty space beside him on the mattress. "Please, sit down. I insist."

Slowly lowering yourself to his side, you sat at a reasonable distance away from him. With the both of you sat down, the size difference was still very noticable. His height made him hunch over you, and one of his thighs was like the two of yours combined.

So nervous, you didn't even notice how his back slumped so you'd be both at a similar level.

He cleared his throat. "What brings you here so late in the night?"

An awkward tug of your t-shirt collar.

"Can't sleep," you stated simply.

"I see." He was quiet for a few moments. Then: "And you decided that my room was the place to go?"

Your face heated up, and you averted your gaze. "Well, sir, it's j-ju—"

"—Nein," he cut you off, holding up a hand to stop you. "I have told you so many times not to call me that. Call me König."

"But— but you're my superior," you gasped, mouth agape. "You deserve to be addressed with respect! I couldn't possibly—"

The protest died on your lips again as the man shook his head, the loose material of his veil following his movements. "Nein. None of that matters. I want you to call me by my first name."

A heavy silence lingered over the two of you, words left unsaid by you both.

"So," König prompted, "what brings you here, King?"

Pausing to think over a pretence, the best you could come up with was: "The storm scared me."

"Ja?" Even with the fabric covering his face, you could almost see the skeptical smirk on his lips.

"A soldier like you afraid of loud clouds? Some rain?" He chuckled.

"Really, I'd have thought you better than that, King." If you didn't know him well enough, you'd have thought he was mocking you, yet despite the sarcasm his eyes held a genuine concern for you.

An bashful laugh escaped you as you rubbed your arm, nails slightly digging into your skin.

"Okay, tell me the truth, King," Leaning forward, his tone became serious. "I know for certain you aren't scared."

He searched for your eyes, yet you avoided his gaze.

"Something is troubling you. Is that it?" He cocked his head to the side, fabric falling loosely over his shoulder. "You can tell me, King. I am your superior, you know. You should tell me these things."

"Well... it's j-just—"

You bit your lip, willing the tears to stay in your eyes.

Don't cry. Don't you dare cry.

König watched you, patiently waiting for you to continue.

You swallowed the lump in your throat, vulnerability showing in your eyes. "—This recent mission, it was— it was really, really difficult. And I just..."

König shuffled towards you until your knees were almost touching, watching you intently. As your body trembled, a hand hovered in uncertainty by your shoulder.

Sniffling, you wiped the wetness on your face with your arm, voice breaking.

"I-I just think that I'm not strong. That I'm... weak. Not— not good enough to be working with people that are so much better. So much stronger—"

Your breath hitched in your throat, voice coming out in a broken sob. "—I-I mean— I'm so pathetic. I shouldn't be so... weak. I should — I should be better. Wh-why—"

Tears flowed freely down your face. "—Why can't I be better, König? Why am I so— so useless?"

Without saying anything, König wrapped his strong arms around your body and pulled you against his chest, pulled you close so you could let it all out. For a few moments, he let you cry, ever-so-gently stroking the back of your head, fingers running through your hair. Weeping into his chest, his steady breathing soothed you.

Once you recovered enough from your emotions, you pulled away, downcast. Face red and blotchy with tears, eyes puffy and pink from crying, lips quivering and voice hoarse, you felt so pathetic. So, so pathetic.

"F-fuck, s-si— König—" Trembling. "I'm so so sorry. I'm too emotional, please, I'm sor—"

"Nein." His tone was soft, yet firm. Definitive. "You have nothing to apologise for, King."

Both hands cupped the sides of your face, tentatively tilting your face upwards. His expression was forlorn, and you felt tears brimming in your eyelids again.

"...You're not weak. You're not pathetic. You're not useless. I see you always trying so hard, King, always giving it your all..."

He paused for a few moments, deliberating over how best to put his thoughts into words. "...Maybe... maybe your best isn't the best out of anyone's bests, but it's the effort that counts." He rubbed the back of his neck, then let out a mono-syllabic laugh. "Scheiße, did that make sense? Sorry— I'm not good with words—"

You glanced away. "—Hey," his hand reached to hold to side of your face. "Look at me, King."

"You're not weak, not pathetic, not useless," he repeated, voice wavering.

"You're none of those. You're better than you think you are. Your inner strength," a finger pointed at your chest, "your heart, it's so full of goodness. So full of so many good things that don't define you, but instead changed you for the better."

"Maybe... maybe you aren't the aren't the best, haven't been the best, or never will be the best, but it's not your fault. You try so hard, and the odds... the odds are stacked against you. And, sometimes... sometimes it's okay to not be the best. You don't have to be fearless, the strongest, perfect. You can just be... you."

His eyes were pleading in the dark. "Please don't doubt yourself. You're so— so much better than you imagine."

A shaky breath. "So much stronger than you tell yourself. I can promise you, you are your own person. Other people's successes don't define you."

König turned around to glance at his alarm. 2:36.

When he turned back, your face had slowly regained the colour on your cheeks, eyes sparkled, chest rose and fall at a steady pace. You said nothing, yet König knew you listened to every one of his words.

"Looks like it's too late for you to fall asleep in your own room," he whispered, gently caressing your face. "Stay here with me, King."

Eyes immediately widening in surprise, you were about to protest. "B-but— I couldn't possibly, König—"

That protest died on your lips as König's arms engulfed you again, and brought you down against his mattress so you were laying on his chest. Cocooned like a protective blanket over you, you didn't need him to say anything more. You felt so... safe. Loved.

The storm outside seemed to calm down, and lightning no longer crashed against the window. Rain faltered, and some clouds were separating in the darkness of the sky.

Before you knew it, your eyelids became heavy with drowsiness, feeling a wave of calm wash over you, cleansing away your sorrows.

Just before you fell asleep, you heard König say something in German, barely above a whisper, but you did not understand:

"Schlaf gut Schatz. Ich liebe dich."

...

I don't know who needed to hear that, or if anyone even did, but I stand by the words I wrote. Although you are reading this, and are likely a stranger, and I'll never face you in real life, I want you to know that you *are* good enough. And if it takes a person on the internet using a fictional character to tell you so, then so be it. You are still valid. 🫂

...

Note: i rhink some of the ppl that read my previous fics will be able to tell that i went tryhard mode on this one 💀💀

Its mostly bc im back in school and were going over all the stupid fancy shmancy literative devices and figurstive language (god why cant u call it literallt anything else i swear why does it have ro be so unnecessarily overcomplicated just call it sentence structures or writing techniques istg.man😭)so i unconsciously chanelled all of thise boring technicalities into this 😬

With me writing as a hobby you'd think I'd have the highest grades in English? No💔I wish LMAO

I NOW HAVE 130+ FOLLOWERS!!! Which is unbelievable if u wsk me bc etf why wre eo mwnt people following me i don't deserve this qt ALL 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭 THANK YOU ALL 🥹🥹🥹🫶🫶🫶💓💓💓💓💓💓💓💓💓💓💓💓

I still remember when @puff0o0⭐ began their self-aware au with König and Ghost qnd ive qlways veen cheerint for her from the sidelines ☺️☺️come to find out shes been mentioning ME in THEIR podts and writing on their blofs thwt my CoD blog is good and i.????😭😭😭cant????????😭😭😭😭😭 Literally -99999 damage and an ARROW 🏹 STRAIGHT thru the HEART 💘🥹 I LOVE U B (platonically ofc dw)😽💕💓💓❤️💞💞💕💞💕💞💞💞💕

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greenorangevioletgrass · 11 months

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given the circumstances (part 1) | b.r.b.

pairing: Bradley Bradshaw x actress!reader

summary: your relationship with Bradley goes from 0 to 100 after a little happy accident. [Part of “The Actress & The Aviator” universe]

word count: 5.9k

Warnings: established relationship, language, pregnancy, mention of vomit/nausea, accidental pregnancy, fluff, smut [unprotected sex, oral (f receiving), dirty talk, daddy kink, hint of mommy kink?, breeding kink, size kink, creampie]

notes: they’re back babeyyyy! This is set about 1.5 years after the events in “It’s Classified”, and it fills in the gap of the blurbs I did a while ago. But you don’t have to read it first, this can be read as a standalone. I have missed writing for them so much, and I hope you enjoy reading this! <3

✨ follow @ficsbygreenorangevioletgrass to get notified for my latest words <3 happy reading and please reblog if you liked it! ✨

PART ONE

You’ve been New York-bound for six whole months, doing two shows on Broadway back-to-back. Bradley came to visit you for your musical’s opening night about two months in (and again for your second show, a modern take of Romeo & Juliet), but with your shows and his sudden deployment to God knows where for three months, the time and space apart was killing you.

Which is why you’re determined to take some time off as soon as you’re done, just to be with your stupidly handsome fiance at home in the stupidly sunny California.

Your first month or so was a bliss. You would wake up to the smell of your coffee, and saunter into the kitchen where Bradley would kiss you good morning. There’s no rigid structure to your days, save for the occasional work meetings. Most of your time is spent playing house with your fiance, redecorating the house you both barely lived in before you were called off to work. Wandering around and jotting down inspirations for your new screenplay. Treating yourself to frozen yogurts and manicures. Adjusting to life in the San Clemente neighborhood of Orange County.

(Bradley made a joke about you joining The Real Housewives soon, which earned him an elbow to the rib. Whatever. He was more Housewife material than you anyway.)

But halfway through your second month, you started feeling lethargic and just… off. You chalked it up to the weather and exhaustion, since you’ve been back to work, going to pre-production meetings for your upcoming movie. You tried to brush it off with vitamins and heartier meals, powering through for a couple of days.

“You sure you’re okay? You don’t look so good…” Bradley looks at you in concern when you shuffle into the kitchen that morning.

You’re really not, but you blatantly refuse to acknowledge that. “I’m fine. Still tired, is all. I just need some…” the coffee scent wafts in the air—the same scent that always woke you up in a good mood these past six months—and you gag. “Oh fuck.”

Bradley’s voice calling out your name sounds distant as you dash towards the bathroom, barely making it to the toilet before you puke your guts out.

“Hey…” he holds your hair back with one hand while the other rubs your back patiently. Staying calm despite his head is running a mile a minute in panic. “What happened, sweetheart?”

Everything feels like hell from your mouth to your stomach, and you groan as you pull the flush. “I have no idea. I just… I could smell the coffee and suddenly…” you motion at the toilet. “I mean, what the fuck?”

He sighs, wiping off sweat from your forehead and brushing the strands of hair sticking on it. “Maybe it’s stress?” he guesses, although they both know it’s unlikely. You’ve been keeping it relatively chill since you got here. “Or a stomach bug? Or…”

You look up to find his brown eyes softly gazing at yours, in worry and concern and… “Or what?”

He grimaces almost apologetically, and you slowly catch what he means.

“No. No way. Nuh-uh.” you shake your head so quickly, you give yourself a headache. “I’m on birth control. I’ve never missed a day…” That’s not true. As the words leave your mouth, you remember the surprise trip Bradley took you to Big Sur one weekend where you forgot both your pills and condoms…

Fuck.

“Babe… What date is it?”

He stammers for a bit, “Um, the— it’s the 18th.”

You do the mental math, counting the time gap between today and the Big Sur trip, and your last period… and your eyes widen. Your head is swirling, and so is your stomach.

“Sweetheart, do you think you might be—”

Before he can say the damned word, you feel the bile rising again. Your pointer finger lifts up in wait, as you bury your face in the toilet and throw up once more.

His heart catches. You’ve talked about having a baby, and you’ve talked about wanting to have one… some time in the future. He didn’t expect it to happen so soon. Butterflies fill his stomach at the possibility of you carrying his baby right now at this very moment, but the sight of you looking so… defeated by your own body is enough to create a nasty pit in his gut.

“What can I get for you, baby?” he asks softly, caressing the back of your neck.

There’s absolutely nothing else to empty from your stomach at this point. It’s basically just water and dry heaving, and your eyes are tearing up from the terrible sensation.

“Ginger ale from the fridge…” you manage between heavy breaths, “...and some test packs from the pharmacy, please.”

“Okay, sure. Got it. Come on, let’s get you back to bed.” He offers both his hands and gently pulls you up. If he’s nervous or excited or both, he does a pretty good job of not showing it. He pulls up some tissues from the bathroom counter and wipes your mouth without batting an eye.

He lays you down on your side, getting you all nice and comfy, before disappearing into the kitchen, returning with a can of ginger ale and a puke bucket, just in case.

“Sweetheart?” his hand is soft and warm on your cheek, and his voice even more so. “Drink up. Hope it’ll settle your stomach a little bit.”

You sit up a little, and take small sips from the can. At least it helps alleviate the bitter aftertaste in your mouth.

“I put your phone on the bedside. Call me if you need me, alright? I’m just gonna run over to CVS. Be back before you know it.” He kisses your forehead, and you make a face in protest.

“I’m gross right now!”

“I don’t care,” he chuckles. “Just rest up. Love you.”

Of course he knows what to do. Picture perfect Bradley Bradshaw, who knows how to be caring without being overbearing. Who kisses your clammy forehead after you puke your guts out. Who is literally running to the nearest drugstore to get her pregnancy test packs right now, for fuck’s sake. He’s just… perfect.

You lie back down and smush your face into the pillow, faced with the fact that you’ll never be able to live up to that. And if you can’t… how the hell are you supposed to raise a child? How the hell are you supposed to pull your weight when your fiance can already do it so well?

“Babe?” He calls out upon entering the house a few short minutes later. “I’m back. I got the…” his words trail off as he walks into the bedroom and sees you in tears. His whole features soften up as he approaches you gingerly, sitting by your side. “Hey… what’s wrong?”

You shake your head as you sit up, sniffling a little. “What are those?” You nod at the paper bag he put down on the foot of the bed, hoping it’ll divert the conversation a little. It’s a little too big for just a bunch of pregnancy test sticks.

“The tests. And some snacks I thought might help with your stomach.”

And with that, the tears burn the corners of your eyes again and your lips quiver as they fail to hold back the cries.

“How are you so good at this?!”

He pauses in confusion, and then… it dawns on him. An amused glint appears in his eyes. “Are you… crying because I got a good bedside manner?”

Your hands fly up to your face, hiding it from view. “I’m not! Shut up!” You really were, but he didn’t have to say it like that… and your reaction only confirmed his speculation.

Bradley chuckles. God, he loves your silly little antics. “I mean, I had to take care of my mom all through high school, so…” he shrugs sheepishly.

You wipe your tears with the back of your hand. An uncomfortable awkwardness sets in as you remember his late mother’s terminal illness, right in the peak of his high school years. “Right. Sorry.”

“It’s okay, baby. I’m just… glad I’m doing it right?” He smiles in reassurance, wiping what’s left of your tears and kissing your nose. He lifts up the ginger ale can to your hand again. “You lost a lot of fluids to make up for. Drink up some more, and we’ll do the tests, yeah?”

You glance at the paper bag again, watching him fishing around… “How many pregnancy test packs did you get?”

“I got three just to be safe.”

You want to laugh, but you probably would’ve ransacked the test kits too, if you were the one to buy it. So instead, you nod slowly, ponderously. “Three is… three is good.”

You know how these test kits work, they’re all the same, but you insist on reading the instructions pamphlet anyway. With two other test kits to spare, Bradley simply takes another copy from another box to read.

“Pee on a stick, wait for up to 5 minutes.” You put down the pamphlet on the counter. “Easy enough.” You sigh like it’s the hardest thing you’ve ever had to do.

And it is. Every tick of the clock feels louder and farther from the one before, and you’re trying your damnedest not to look back onto the counter where the blue-tipped sticks are lined up. Inspecting it up close and see the lines that appear.

You sigh in exasperation, breaking the stilted silence. “I don’t even know what I’m hoping for, if I’m honest. Is that weird?”

He shakes his head a little. “Not at all. This is a weird situation to be in, I think it makes sense if we’re still not sure what we want.”

“Do you know what you’re hoping for?” You turn your head towards him. Maybe you’ll know it when you hear it.

“Honestly? No.” Yes. He knows exactly what he wants. He just doesn’t want to admit it and freak you out even more. “I’m just thinking about you. About us…”

“What about us?”

“Just that… whatever happens, we’ll figure it out together.”

Bless him. It would be infuriating if you weren’t so comforted by it. Leave it to Bradley to always know just the right thing to say.

And he means every word of it too. Yes, he wants a baby with you now, but you don’t, or if it doesn’t turn out to be now, then… he can stand to wait a little more. For as long as you need.

“How long do we have left?”

Bradley joins your gaze towards the nautical clock on the wall. A silly little gag gift you gave him last Christmas, for your favorite flying seaman.

“Three minutes and fifteen seconds…?”

“That’s about the average length of a pop song.”

He grins. “Exactly. One pop song, and we’ll find out.”

You nod. Listening to the tick, tick, tick of the clock. It drones on and on, and it seems to lull slower as it goes. Fuck Einstein and his theory of relativity. You pick the first random song that pops into your head and holds onto it for dear life. It’s your only way of keeping track of the time, at this point.

“I took my love, I took it down…” you sing under your breath, tentatively.

Bradley snorts. “It’s a good song.” That’s an understatement. He adores Fleetwood Mac, and this is the first song he learned on the guitar when he was 10.

“Climbed a mountain and I turned around…” you throw him a side-eye, a more than obvious invitation to join you.

Bradley has his eyes closed, though. But he nods along and sings along in his warm voice, “And I saw my reflection in the snow-covered hill…”

“‘Til the landslide brought me down.”

The two of you are singing with your whole chests now, belting out the chorus to drown out your nerves, forcing yourself to stay on tempo even when you feel like rushing it to the end. Right now, it’s more like Nick Miller’s nervous singing from New Girl than a beautiful bathroom jam session, but you don’t care. Bradley is vocalizing the guitar solo part like the back of his hand, playing the air guitar and everything, and you’re so, so happy that out of all the people in the world, you’re doing this with him.

And at that moment, you realize that your worries earlier today were misguided. Yes, Bradley knows how to take care of you, and he probably knows a thing or two about babies. But he’s on your side. He’ll be pulling the weight with you. Being good parents is not a competition—you know he’ll cheer you on like he is doing right now. He knows you’ll do the same for him, too.

Well I’ve been afraid of changes

‘cause I’ve built my life around you

But time makes you bolder, even children get older

and I’m getting older too

You didn’t notice it at first, but Bradley also softens up on the final chorus, lost in his own thoughts. He has built his life on self-preservation, protecting himself from the lies of the people he loved, and depriving him of the love and family he’s always wanted. But maybe it’s age or the wounds healing (or you swooping into his life at just the right moment)… but he’s not gonna live forever. He knows in his heart of hearts that he wants this baby. He wants this life with you.

When you ask him to look and tell you the results, he doesn’t even flinch. He just nods, kissing your temple as he reaches for all three test kits behind you. His hand shakes a little as he picks them up, though, flipping to see the indicator side. One line for negative, two for positive.

And there it is.

“They’re…” his throat catches, his face unreadable. “They’re all positive…”

“What?”

He shows you the test kits, two blue lines all across the board. His voice wavers, with tears and smiles at the same time. “We’re having a baby.”

“Oh my God…” you walk into his arms in a daze, still not sure what you’re feeling. Are you relieved because you simply know the answer, or relieved because it’s true? Are you terrified because you want it or you don’t?

Bradley cups your face with both hands, tucking unruly strands of hair behind your ear. His brown eyes brimming with tears, blurry as he admires your beauty. The mother of his child. Gosh, he can’t believe his luck.

“How do you feel, honey?”

It tugs at your heartstrings, just how soft he is. So brave, and so gentle at the same time. You have no idea what kind of parent you would be, but you know he would make a great one. “Shocked,” you admit. He nods. “Scared.” This time, you’re a bit embarrassed, but he completely empathizes. “But…” you put your hand over his, closing your eyes as you lean your cheek against his palm, so warm and soft and right, “…happy.”

***

And after two months of a relatively slow life, things are going from zero to 100 very quickly.

Bradley manages to duck out of work early and take you to the doctor that very afternoon. Everything seems to be in order. The baby is, indeed, there— a 7-week-old blob as big as a blueberry with a heartbeat.

Heartbeat.

Your heart all but stops beating when you first hear it, much stronger than you thought it would. But there it is. Strong. Alive.

There.

“That’s… that’s our baby…” You choke up, staring at the ultrasound screen in awe. His hand brings yours to his lips for a loving kiss.

Gosh, you must’ve cried about six times that day. Bradley twice as much (He would deny it to his grave, but you kept count.)

And then, once the novelty wears off a little and the new situation sets in… the two of you get to work.

Bradley updates the entire kitchen inventory and goes into a research (or, as you like to call it, a rabbit hole) into what you can or cannot consume during your pregnancy. You’re constantly on the phone with your agent to rearrange your schedule for the next year (he sounds happy that you’re expecting, but a little inconvenienced that he has to move some things around and even cancel your involvement in a few projects). Conversation topics at mealtimes now include baby names, nursery ideas, and childcare plans.

Bradley comes home to you huddled over your laptop one evening, brows knitted in focus. The AC is cranked up to the max in the summer heat, and you’re all bundled up in the throw blanket. He wants to squee over how cute you look. He puts down the takeout bag of Pad Thai on the coffee table.

“Whatcha got there, my little cocoon?”

“Insurance, mostly.” You look up to kiss him briefly, before you continue typing on. “I’ve been talking to them all afternoon, going through the birth plans and sorting everything out. Very exciting stuff.”

“Hell yeah! Paperwork! The thrill of calling up an insurance company on a Tuesday!” Bradley counters your deadpan with an overexcited cheer, flopping himself on the spot next to you with another big kiss. “Anything I can help you with?”

“Well,” you take a thoughtful deep breath, going through your mental to-do list and realizing… you’re pretty much all set. “How about a back massage?” You give him the puppy eyes, as if you needed it in the first place.

“Copy that, Ma’am.” He throws her a lazy salute and tugs the throw blankets off of you. He starts on your shoulders, noticing the tension under your skin. “Jeez, babe. How long have you been hunched over here?”

Before you can answer him, he’s already working the knots on the base of your neck, you don’t even know you were so tense there, and you respond with a resounding moan.

He raises his eyebrows. “I’ll… take that as a compliment, then.” He grins, ever so proud that he’s eliciting these sounds out of you.

It’s not like you were playing it up or anything. You really were tense, and his hands really do feel good. And while it does make you moan and sigh blissfully, it’s hardly your fault that it makes him think of something else, right?

“Baby…” his voice sounds like a gentle warning.

“Yes?”

His hands stop. “Don’t test me.”

“Oh, okay. Would you prefer this instead?” you grunt oafishly, a piss-poor impression of him in bed, “Fuck baby, that’s it. That’s it. Good girl…”

“Hey!” he pokes his fingers to your side and cage you in his arms so you have nowhere to go. Nowhere to avoid his ministrations.

You giggle uncontrollably, squirming as he gets on top of you, peppering kisses all over your face. A mere distraction to his real tickle attacks. “Stop! Stop! Roo-roo!”

He pins your arms over your head, his cheeks tinged pink with mischief now. “Yield?”

“I’m willing to negotiate.” You flash him a coy smirk.

He frowns. Go on.

You raise an eyebrow. You know what I’m talking about.

He raises his, mirroring you. Interesting…

You tilt your head slightly. Well?

And just like that…

“Deal.”

Your lips meet each other halfway in a searing kiss. The pregnancy hormones are kicking in in full gear, and you’re needier. Much needier than you already are. You want Bradley all the time, in whatever form he’s in, in whatever situation you are in. He knows this, and he finds this endlessly adorable. He would poke fun at you for that…

If only he wasn’t so god-fucking-damned enamored by you for it.

He tears off your dress, reveling in the sheer sight of you. Your curves growing softer, more pronounced in the past month alone. The very subtle but steadfast roundness of your belly. Your breasts, as they grow fuller and—

“Oh…” you whimper as he rolls your nipple between your fingers.

More sensitive to the touch.

“God, you’re so beautiful like this…” he leans down to kiss you again; on the mouth, and on the neck… his tongue gliding across your collarbones, forming the shape of your mounds, one after another…

“Roo, take me to bed…”

“Or what, lose me forever?”

He grazes the outer parts of your nipple with his teeth and teasingly licks at the hardened tops, and you cry out. Such a small little thing, but you feel the sensation in your fingertips.

Bradley smiles. A soft look despite how the situation is escalating. “C’mere, baby.”

With your legs wrapped around his waist, he lifts you up off of the couch. You think it’s just to get you up on your feet, but then he’s not letting go. “You’re not seriously thinking about carrying me all the way upstairs, right?” A teasing frown sets on your face as he hauls you out of the living room.

“Are you assuming that I can’t carry my beautifully pregnant wife to our room?”

“I’m not your wife yet, you know— oh shit!” He pins you against the wall right by the stairs, one hand cradling the back of your head, ever so caring.

He mouths your neck in teasing, his breath fanning against your bare skin. “No? So I don’t have to perform my husbandly duties now, since you’re not my wife?”

It’s kind of hot… but you can’t help but make a face at his choice of words. “You need to stop watching Downton Abbey. Just say ‘fuck.’ It’s not that hard.”

He pulls away, his comeback locked and loaded and ready to go. “You can’t tell me what to do. Who are you, my wife or something?”

“Ugh!” your jaw falls open in a mock offended expression, and you smack his ass playfully.

In turn, he squeezes yours back. Tight. Possessive. There’s a shift in his gaze, a tiny sliver, a darkening—the kind that makes you feel even more naked than you already are. You look at him with unbridled lust, and he kisses you like it’s the only way he can breathe. Like he’s been holding his breath until he can get his hands on you.

And by God, you would let him have all the air you have left to give.

He carries up to the bedroom slowly, carefully, and you hold onto him tight. Reveling in how strong he’s built, all muscles and abs and everything, and how gentle he handles you as he sets you down on the edge of the bed. The epitome of a gentleman, as he kneels down between your legs.

You can feel the heat emanating from him—or is it you?— and you try to unbutton his khaki uniform. “Baby, don’t you wanna take off your…” your words die out as his chest moves out of reach. There is only his hair between your thighs.

His tongue between your folds.

“Fuuuuck…” you bite through your teeth. And once his finger joins in, you’re done for.

You make no effort to hold back your obscene moans, but the wet sounds coming from your pussy are still louder. Your face grows hot as the noise bounces through your bedroom walls.

Bradley pulls his mouth away for a moment, smirking devilishly at you from between his legs. “Well well well… What’s got you this soaking wet, honey?”

You bite your lip, trying to keep it together. But you’re teetering dangerously closer to your release, and you whine out, “You, Daddy…”

He chuckles darkly. “Daddy’s got you all worked up, huh?” The use of the moniker has significantly increased since the news of your pregnancy, but you’re hardly complaining. It does hit different now that he’s actually gonna be one. “I’ve been home for two minutes, and you’re already dripping down your legs…” he slaps the inside of your thigh and you’re keeling into it. “So fucking cute.”

He watches you fuck yourself on his fingers and it makes you dizzy. “Please…”

“Please what?” His mustache tickles your clit, and it drives you wild. “Please stop?”

You whimper in protest.

He adds another finger into you, and raises an expectant eyebrow. This fucking asshole. A snide remark sits right at the tip of your tongue, but the only thing that comes out is,

“Please fuck me.”

He stops, straightening up with an intrigued look about him. Then, being a little shit, he comes back up to you with a kiss. “Good girl. There we go. That wasn’t so hard, was it?”

You taste yourself on his lips, his mustache wet from your arousal, too. In any other case, you would be more proactive, more feral in returning his sentiment—tearing off his clothes and stuffing your mouth full of his cock. But lately you’ve been feeling more… submissive. So easily drunk on climax that you just surrender your pleasure to your man, knowing he’ll take care of you.

Bradley stands up to his full height, towering over you. He toes off his shoes, unbuttoning his uniform. It’s hardly a striptease routine, but there’s something insanely hot about him undressing when he’s about to fuck you.

His shirt drops to the floor, and the white undershirt soon joins. You perk up at the sound of his belt unbuckling, pants rustling down. And as his hard cock springs free from his boxers, you swallow thickly at the sight.

“You ready?” He pumps his fist around his hard-on a few times, as he settles between your legs, still standing on the side of the bed.

A quiet little please escapes you, and then a gasp, as he pulls your hips to the edge of the bed. Lining up his cock against your entrance. He’s big, and your pussy is still aching after he edged you moments ago. It’s gonna be a tight fit.

“Honey, go slow. Please. Slowslowslowslow… ahh!” His cock slides into you in one swift movement, sending a blinding wave of pain and pleasure as it stretches you out.

He doesn’t tear his eyes off of you. He watches your face fall under his undoing, and he moans. “You feel so good, baby…” he says between heavy breaths. You’re always so strong and bold and ballsy, and it gives him a fucking power trip to see you look so… small taking on his cock.

You let out a pathetic whimper as he starts to shallowly thrust in and out of you.

“What is it, baby?” He coos, caressing your hip gently.

“Y’too big…”

“Too big?” Bradley looks down to level your gaze, a seed of a shit-eating grin plastered on his stupid face. “You want me to stop? Is that what you want?”

“No!” You buck up into him as soon as his hips halt, desperately trying to maintain the pace.

He chuckles, that cocky fuck, before he finally continues driving his dick up your inner walls again. “No? You want me to keep stretching you, then?”

You nod. Every thrust feels bigger, deeper, more than the rest, hitting that spot of pleasure just barely, and you’re willing to do anything to stay there.

“Been so needy since I got you pregnant…” he kisses your neck. “Want Daddy more now that I made you a mommy, huh?”

Fuck. The words—the exact order of the words he said sounds batshit insane. You never considered this kind of dirty talk to be hot, but Jesus…

“God, I can’t wait to see your belly all big and round… your tits too, fuck…” he groans as he squeezes your soft flesh, rubbing your nipples with his thumb. “Gonna be a mommy and show everyone who you belong to, huh?”

“Mmh…” You’ve seen Bradley being possessive, and you’ve seen him tap into his primal side, but not like this. This is a whole other beast, and it shocks you how much it turns you on.

“All mine, huh?”

“I’m all yours, Daddy. I’m—fuck. Fuck!” Your whole body is shaking. The band in your core is wound up so tight, and it’s threatening to snap.

And through it all, he doesn’t let up. Bradley keeps that rhythm, pounding into you hard and deep. “Shit, that’s it… that’s it, baby. Come on my cock. God, you’re so fucking tight…”

There’s no stopping it now… your pussy gushes and clenches around him, as shocks of pleasure wave through your system. Your mind goes blank, and for a hot second, nothing is registering in your brain. Nothing but your man, as obscenely as he is fucking your brains out right now,

“Need your cum inside me, Roo…”

“Don’t wanna come anywhere else. Just you, just your pussy…” he breathes out. He’s close, that much you can tell. His pace is erratic and his mouth runs wild. “Gonna keep pumping you full of my cum. Gonna keep fucking babies into you until you can’t anymore.”

You would laugh. You would tease him for being such a caveman about it. But as he comes deep inside you, his hips stuttering one, two, three more times as he rides out his orgasm… you don’t only surrender to the idea; you welcome it.

Maybe you’re completely fucked out. Maybe you’re going soft and mellow, but nothing—and you mean nothing— is hotter than what he wants to do to you.

What he is doing to you now.

The room falls into a pleasant silence as you come down from your high. Bradley pulls out of you, and you gush out with your own release and his. His mouth falls open in awe. “Fuck, that’s hot…”

“Huh?” You lift your head from the bed, trying to see what he’s looking at.

“Nah, it’s just…” he shakes his head with a grin. “Good thing we’re already pregnant, huh? If we weren’t, that might’ve just done the trick.”

You roll your eyes as he gives you a sweet peck on the cheek. “I think the dirty talk alone was enough to do it.”

He blushes, a deep shade of red. He absolutely can’t take it when you quote back the things he said to you during sex. “Nope! Not a single word. La-la-la-la…” he closes his ears with his fingers, waddling over to the bathroom comically.

The sound of water trickling into the toilet coincides with your laugh in the bedroom… and then it gets drowned out with the flush. It’s a mundane little snapshot of your intimate lives together.

He comes up to you and offers his hands. “Come on…” he helps you get up. “You go ahead and clean up. I’ll change the sheets.”

Leave it up to Bradley, to always take initiatives to do the small things, like changing the sheets and ushering your ass to the bathroom after sex.

As you clean up and put on some clothes in the bathroom, Bradley singing Take My Breath Away to himself in the other room, you wonder how all of this will turn out. Change is inevitable—your belly is getting bigger, this new stage of relationship is getting more real— and you’re desperate to get a grasp on these things. It’s strange to be so anxious after such a lovely evening. But it’s been so good so far… too good, maybe… and you can’t help but wonder if the other shoe might drop.

“Everything alright?” Bradley pops up by the bathroom door, already in sweatpants and a t-shirt. You must’ve been in there for a while.

You nod absently. “Yeah, just… changing.” And you’re not sure whether you’re talking about the clothes you just put on, or the body you inhabit.

“I think you look beautiful,” he says so simply. Wrapping his arms around you, feeling your small bump. He smiles into your hair and whispers, “My beautiful wife…”

“Not your wife yet…” you remind him pointedly, teasingly. It’s one of your favorite pastimes, keeping him on his toes.

He turns you around to face him, a tender look seemingly permanent on his face whenever he sees you these days. “I mean, you’re here, with me, in our house, carrying our baby…” he kisses your nose, “As far as I’m concerned, that makes you my wife, doesn’t it?”

Well, when he puts it like that… you take a deep sigh, not hating the idea. But not quite ready to concede to his argument yet. “Apart from a piece of paper.”

“Ah well. That can easily be arranged, hmm?”

Truth be told, he’s got a point. The only differentiating factor to your status right now is a little certificate, and both your signatures on the dotted lines. Not a big party or a horrendously expensive dress that everybody would have an opinion on. And to be more truthful, it was never what you wanted in the first place.

You only ever want to be together.

And you’re free to decide how you want to be together.

“Should we just do it?”

“What?”

You look up at him with a tentative smile.

His eyes light up, and his heart leaps. “I mean, sure.” He chuckles. “We can go down to the courthouse. Or, hell, I’ll drive us to Vegas right now.”

It gets a giggle out of you. Of course he would jump at the opportunity to marry you right away. “Or… we can just celebrate it with our closest friends and family? Rent a beach house somewhere, and just… make a fun weekend out of it?”

“And just… what, get a justice of the peace to marry us?”

You shrug with an easy smile. “Or we can make Mav cry and ask him to officiate.”

He chuckles, but trails off as it sinks in. It has never occurred to him that that was an option. He’s always imagined it the traditional way. A church ceremony followed by a reception in a hall somewhere. Walking under the arch of swords. Looking dapper in his dress uniform. But with his work obligations and yours, and all the nightmare logistics of guest numbers and venues and entertainment and the fucking publicity that comes with your fame, both of you are well aware that it’s a hassle.

And it’s not even the most important part.

The most important part is you. You’d be the one meeting him at the altar. You’d be the one saying your vows and making him cry happy tears.

You would be the one.

For him.

Forever.

“Let’s do it.” Bradley nods resolutely. “Just you, me, and our closest people. We can get married in our jammies, for all I care.”

“Maybe not jammies…” you roll your eyes in amusement. “I still wanna look nice for our wedding, you know.”

“You look nice in your jammies.” He glances down at your tank top.

“Roo.” You cover his line of sight indignantly.

But he tugs your hand away, eyes still glued to what is arguably one of his favorite sights in the world. Your cleavage. Plays it off really coolly as he teases you. “No, no. I’m serious. You look really nice in your jammies. I really wouldn’t object to—”

You swat his hand, only half-serious. “Bradley.”

“Alright, fine!” He raises his hands in surrender. “So long as I get to call you my wife.”

“Not your wife yet…” you saunter out of the bathroom, knowing full well he doesn’t care.

To be completely honest, you’re not even sure that you do, either.

#bradley bradshaw #bradley bradshaw imagine #bradley bradshaw smut #bradley bradshaw x reader #rooster imagine #rooster smut #rooster x reader #the actress & the aviator #ava writes #top gun maverick

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apteryxparvus · 7 months

Note

Request for the 100 follower event!

Scaramouche/Wanderer (Genshin Impact), fluff! :^

If you don't have any ideas, maybe Scaramouche taking care of sick reader? (I'm caught a cold recently, lol)

But feel free to write it as you want to.

Congratulations on 100 followers!

Hello! And thank you for the request 😊 Hope you're feeling better now, anon!

Part of my ✨ 100 followers milestone event ✨ that ran from September 2nd to September 9th.

Pairing — Scaramouche / Reader

Word count — 942

Content warning — none

“Back to bed, now,” Scaramouche orders, his stern expression flickering between you and the stack of papers you’re desperately clutching against your chest. You manage a sheepish grin, hugging the documents closer.

“No.”

“I’ve already told you more than once. Go back to bed.” Your boyfriend argues, taking a slow step towards you. “You’re unwell, running a fever, and you need to rest.”

“These papers won’t grade themselves, you know?”

He mutters something under his breath, mild annoyance crossing his face. In a split second, he’s in front of you, swiftly taking the papers from your grasp. You let out a gasp, attempting to reach them. It’s a futile attempt — the paper’s too high to reach.

“Give them back!” you exclaim. He gives you a deadpan stare.

You shift around, trying to outmaneuver him, hoping to somehow gain the upper hand, but your body is too fatigued. The fever rages through your body, and not even a minute later, you’re panting, feeling the heat course through you. The room suddenly feels a bit too stifling.

“Back to bed,” he repeats. “Or else.”

“Or else what?” you challenge. But deep down you know he’s right, you know your stubbornness is unnecessary, but the idea of the ungraded research papers looms heavily on your mind. The deadline is too close for comfort. And if you didn’t complete the task, you’d face (yet another) lengthy and harsh reprimand from your supervisor — an ordeal you dread, not looking forward to the sight of the long, curly stray hair on his chin, nor the spittle that leaves his lips as he yells out a variety of insults.

Scaramouche pinches the bridge of his nose, releasing yet another sigh. “Bed. Right now.”

“Fine, fine,” you relent, dragging your feet towards the bedroom. You shoot him a nasty, annoyed look and let out a humph.

He trails after you, ensuring your cocooned comfortable in bed, a blanket wrapped snugly around your feverish form.

“I’ll be back with some medication,” he announced, heading towards the bathroom. You hear him rummaging through the cabinet and you frown — Bimarstan’s fever-breaking medication has a bitter, earthy taste that you heavily dislike. And sadly enough, none of the Amurta students seem interested in trying to sweeten up the recipe, claiming it’s good enough as long as it does the job.

A sneeze echoes around the room, and you rub your temples, attempting to alleviate the headache wrapping around your head. You sniffle, sensing another sneeze on the way, and you brace yourself for the burst of pain that will follow.

“Here,” Scaramouche mutters, thrusting the herbal-smelling pills towards you. You grab them, feeling the rough texture as you stare at the dark green circular tablet. ”I’ll bring you some water to help you swallow these.”

“Can I have some tea instead?” you ask, grinning meekly.

“The usual?” You nod, heart warming at the way your boyfriend is taking care of you — despite his prickly personality and tendency to be blunt and sometimes downright mean, he cares a great deal about you.

You leave the pills on the bedside table and snuggle your face into the blanket — it smells like Scaramouche, a woody and grassy scent, mixed with the bitterness of his favorite green tea.

You close your eyes for what feels like a second, the room's peaceful silence coaxing you closer to slumber. Moments later, the bed dips as your boyfriend sits down, a steaming cup of fresh tea in his hands. He helps you sit up, arranging several pillows against the bed frame.

With a grimace, you take the herbal medication and swallow it; of course, it gets stuck in your throat, and you take a few gulps of the hot liquid, coughing at the burn. There's some residue of the pill down your throat, and you take a few more desperate sips of tea, hoping to rid yourself of the taste.

"Idiot," Scaramouche scolds, taking the mug away from you. "Do you want to choke on the tea?"

"'m sorry," you mumble, pouting.

He gently brushes a strand of hair that's sticking to your slightly moist forehead, and you nuzzle into his tender touch. "What am I going to do with you," he mutters under his breath, cupping your cheek, his thumb caressing your bottom lip softly.

"Kiss me to make me feel better?" you joke.

Scaramouche shakes his head, but heeds your request. He moves closer to your burning body, cupping your face with his two hands. You stare at his eyes in astonishment, feeling vulnerable and exposed under his gaze.

"Wait, wait! No! I was just joking," you try to push him away, but he doesn't budge. "You'll get sick too!"

"Idiot," he chuckles. "This puppet body of mine does not suffer from illness." With that, he dips his head, his soft lips meeting yours.

The kiss is unhurried, tender even. You freeze for a moment, then melt into it, savoring the sensation of his body close to yours. His fingers thread through the back of your head, tangled in your tousled hair.

You gingerly nip at his lower lip, and he responds by parting his mouth, allowing the kiss to deepen. Breathless, you're intoxicated by the sensations, the rush of the kiss enough to give you the energy to continue.

You're on the verge of wrapping your arms around his neck, pulling him closer, when—

"ACHOO!"

Scaramouche recoils, a mild disgust and disbelief etched on his face.

"Sorry," you mutter sheepishly. "Maybe I should just lie down and nap. Care to join me for a cuddle session?"

"On one condition — never sneeze on my face again."

Author's note: not really proofread, my brain is too fried from uni classes and work 😫

#genshin x reader #scaramouche x reader #wanderer x reader #genshin x you #genshin x y/n #scaramouche x y/n #wanderer x y/n #scaramouche x you #wanderer x you #genshin impact #genshin imagines #request #scaramouche #wanderer

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da-birb-writes-sometimes · 9 months

Note

CONGRATS ON HUNDRED DOVE!! you sent me a risqué ask for 100 so now i do it back to ye-

"caught in the rain" with leona :D or ruggie, if someone got to him first! ehehehehehehhehehehe you can see stuff 😳👀 for free ✨✨✨

btw your ask is sending me so hard but i'm already typing out so much for leona so your ask is gonna be the last one for the event lol

Caught in the Rain; Leona Kingscholar

Content; Fluff, gender-neutral reader, reader needs to get bonked with a stick (/j)

Content Warning; Swearing

Word Count; 700+

AN; Don't expose my ass on my own blog, Soru /j. (just trying to feed your own simping along with the simps) But I hope you enjoy what I wrote for Leona and this prompt! As a reminder, do not put my work — or others for that matter — into AI as it steals. Link to Masterlist

The sky lay heavy with dark clouds, the smell of rain thick in the air, yet not a single drop had yet to strike the ground. The air was dense with humidity, warm from the harsh sun’s rays from earlier in the day. But yet, you found yourself outside, trying to find Leona.

He had invited you to spend your summer break as his guest in the palace. Well, less so 'invited', more so demanded.

“Do you have anywhere else to be, herbivore? I thought as much. Come on, you’re staying with me.”

You still don’t really know why, but you weren’t going to throw away the chance of staying someplace beyond nice for the summer… plus Leona wasn’t so bad once you got to know him. Yes, he puts on an act of not caring, and being abrasive, but you knew that he cared, that he worried. Also, the two of you had been having this back-and-forth banter for months; blurring the lines of just friends bickering and something... more. But neither of you had made a move. It just hung in the air between you, nearly as suffocating as the humidity now; potent with the possibility of a massive storm.

Back to the present though. You were on the outskirts of the palace, looking for wherever Leona had decided to take a nap for this afternoon.

“Leona,” you called, but all you heard in return was the low rumble of thunder in the distance. Where is that overgrown house cat? I swear if I get caught in a downpour because of him… “LEONA!”

The first drops of rain began to fall, gentle and sparse. But you knew full well that in a few minutes' time they would be falling hard and fast.

“LEONA KINGSCHOLAR?!” You shouted at the top of your lungs.

You heard an annoyed huff of air off to your left, and looking up you saw none other than Leona lounging in the low-hanging branches of a tree.

“Ya don’t need to yell, ya know,” he sighed, landing softly on the ground. He looked up to the sky and frowned before setting a slow pace back to the palace. “Are you coming or what, herbivore?”

You followed after him, catching up so the both of you were going at a comfortable pace. Thunder was still rumbling, and the rain was slowly picking up, but there was no rush. Well, there wasn’t any rush until there was a flash of lightning and it seemed like the entire sky’s worth of water came down all at once on the both of you.

“Shit,” Leona hissed and guided the both of you to the relative cover of a tree to wait out the worst of the monsoon. “Just our luc-” He stopped talking when he looked at you though.

You were spitting out some stray rainwater that had managed to get into your mouth. But once the intruding water was gone you looked over to him but you felt your eyes lock on his torso; the white shirt that he was wearing was now completely see-through and you could see everything. Stop staring! Damn though- STOP STARING! But your eyes refused to move.

Leona noticed this, and he also took in your drenched appearance but was more subtle with it. “Tch,” he tapped you on the nose, breaking you of your staring stupor. “My eyes are up here,” his voice was teasing though, light.

You snapped out of it, catching his mirthful eyes. “You’re beautiful,” you whisper. You felt your face grow warm at the slip of your tongue, but it was true. Even before you openly ogled at him, you always thought that, but never said it to his face.

Leona chuffed, but he didn’t say anything; neither denying or accepting your statement. “You aren’t half bad yourself,” he said softly.

The two of you sat underneath the tree, still in your soaked clothes, watching the rain fall together in a comfortable quiet. And while the first golden rays of sunlight may have been stunning, the both of you thought it was nothing when compared to the captor of your hearts; each other.

After all, you still had the rest of the summer to build on this new development.

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winterchimez · 7 months

Text

Forbidden | Ji Changmin

SUMMARY: you have been separated from your childhood best friend, Changmin for years. so when you both finally reunite on a mission together, he is no longer the childhood friend you have once come to know of, and things were going to take a turn for the both of you.

PAIRING: spy Changmin x spy f!reader

GENRE: ex-bffs to lovers au, angst, crime, suggestive

WARNINGS: nc-17, violence, mentions of gambling, mentions of human trafficking, kissing, making out

WORD COUNT: 3,168

A/N: here is the 3rd entry from my 100 followers event, and this was requested by my 妹妹 @sungbeam 💕 the way you chose that specific prompt lmao i knew i had to deliver some ✨good food✨ for you, and i hope it was worthy of your taste miss beam 😮‍💨 (it might be a bit rushed so i humbly apologise i wrote this in one sitting)

“Agent Y/N, reporting in.”

You knocked at your boss's door and stood there enthusiastically, awaiting your next mission.

It has been a while since you were deployed on field missions, hence the excitement you felt when you received a code entitled “S-Rank”, which indicated the highest rank of difficulty of missions that only a selected few are allowed to participate in.

You have been with your current agency for a few years, and through hard work and determination, you rose up to one of the higher-ranking agents in the field. With that, you are mostly deployed on the field, dealing with many missions that are far more gruesome and dangerous, which could eventually cost you your life if you weren’t careful enough. But you were a fighter—a soldier equipped with wits and extraordinary martial arts skills.

As a result, you have been placed on training duties where you were assigned to train the new recruits to prepare them as they make their official debut on the field. Not that you were entirely mad about it, since martial arts was one of your fortes, but you surely miss being on the field and on an actual mission.

Hence, you couldn’t contain your excitement for the day, and you couldn’t wait to gear back up and return to your comfort zone.

Your boss—Director Ji, was pretty pleased with the number of upcoming recruits that were going to officially join the team, as several agents were currently abroad to fulfill their own missions. In other words, your company desperately needs potential ones who could take on field missions.

This time, however, he hands you a red folder with all the necessary information about the mission. You knew what the red folder exactly meant—ones that could indeed cause a life or death situation, and there is no room for even a single mistake for this one. Usually, these were given to the elites, not even to higher-ranking agents like yourself.

The Elites are the best of the best, and they excel in every possible scenario or situation that they are in, no matter how brutal the mission may be. They do not engage much with the other agents except for the director himself, as they are often sent away far abroad to handle much more trivial matters at hand.

If your director has handed you such a folder where it’s not meant for you on a usual basis, that could only mean one thing. You were to step in as a substitute and be paired with at least one of the members from the elites and fulfill the mission as swiftly and hassle-free as possible.

As you were about to turn back and take your leave, your director stopped you just in time to inform you that this mission requires some more training than usual, and you were to be paired up with one of them to prepare for the big day.

Training with one of the elites? Obviously, how could you ever say no? It is definitely a dream come true for you as you have always admired them from the shadows. Enthusiastically, you nodded and agreed with the offer as you stepped out of the room.

“This is going to be so much fun.”

“I could teach you how to fight, but I wasn’t equipped to take care of you.”

The brunette shoots you with that cold and blunt statement, and in return, you give the male the biggest frown of the day.

As much as you were enthusiastic the entire morning as you prepared yourself for whoever would join you for the mission, the excitement immediately died down when the infamous elite member, Ji Changmin, stepped foot into the training room.

Your ex-childhood best friend.

Both you and Changmin go all the way back to kindergarten, you both were literally neighbours up till high school. You have spent both of your childhood together, to the point that you both knew exactly what were the biggest insecurities each of you had, even knowing how many crushes you had and how you both are hopeless romantics.

But as Changmin and his family moved away after graduating high school, you both lost contact with one another, never speaking or keeping in touch for many years.

Until you graduate from university.

Somehow, you have managed to stumble upon the Director’s Ji company, which he has been operating secretly for many years—thanks to one of your seniors who recommended you to him. He was more than delighted to take you in, knowing how you eventually pursued criminology and eventually keen on the idea of becoming a spy yourself.

That was when you were reunited with Ji Changmin. You were beyond ecstatic when you first saw him in person again. You wanted to run into him, give him the biggest embrace, and take in all his scent—one you have missed so dearly after all these years.

But the male eventually shut you off before you could do anything. He was nowhere near like the Changmin you used to grow up and love—he was now cold, often very stern, and would work alone instead rather than with others.

Because of that, you have never gotten the chance to talk things out with him, and you realise that it’s best for you to keep a distance from him now.

Never in a million years would that day come so soon for you both to reunite on a S-Rank Mission.

His simple yet cold statement immediately ruined your mood, and you were about to fire back at the male. But he was already prepared with his gear and gloves, waiting for you to join him on the training mat.

Given his demeanour, you knew that dragging his time would be a fatal mistake right now, and you had no choice but to equip yourself with the necessary items and join him as fast as you could.

As you make your way to his way, you can’t help but notice his appearance. His hair was parted to the side, and a little scar was situated right on his left cheek. He was wearing a simple black tee, but you couldn’t help but notice how buff he had gotten and how the shirt was clearly a little too tight for him.

The way his biceps were clearly so toned than ever, and god. The veins—

“When will you stop ogling and get yourself together?” He shoots you with an unfriendly look. Clearly, his patience is running out.

“Fine. God, what an impatient man you have become.” You blurted out by accident, eyes widening as you just realised you had let out your frustration and most inner thoughts. You looked up to meet the male face-to-face, only to realise that he was not bothered by that comment at all.

He has dealt with much worse before, this is nothing to him.

As you finally got into your position, you raised both of your now balled-up fists and stood in a defensive mood, ready for whatever moves the male would lay upon you. Unfortunately, you were a bit too slow to notice the swift movement he had made, and immediately, you were on the ground, groaning as you felt a slight pain upon your lower chin.

“Just so you know, I won’t go easy on you just because you are a girl. I’ll have you know that the enemies we deal with on S-Rank missions are far more murderous and barbaric than you have ever encountered. They could potentially become your worst nightmare. If this is how you will act on the field, I’m afraid you will lose your life within minutes.” Changmin spat, and boy, did it hurt as hell.

Angered, you got back up on your feet as you repositioned yourself again, trying your best to keep up with his swift movements this time.

This training went on for quite a while, and never once did you manage to land a blow on Changmin himself. Instead, you were constantly attacked at your blind spots and always on the ground, trying to find your way back up again.

God, this is going to be a hell of a ride.

The intense training with Changmin lasted for a few days, and the amount of bruises you have gotten thanks to him was uncountable.

Every day, you would return home and find yourself sitting by your bedside, applying an ice pack and ointment to each and every one of them. It has been quite a while since you have felt like this.

Humiliated and defeated.

This only happened when you were still a rookie, as you were training with your superiors then. Ever since you made your debut, you have done nothing but win in all the physical battles you have dealt with, both on and off the field.

“I could teach you how to fight, but I wasn’t equipped to take care of you.”

His words constantly echo into your mind, and you just can’t seem to get it off as much as you wanted. No matter how cruel they seemed, you knew his words meant well for you.

This is a S-Rank mission, for goodness sake, Y/N. It is either you defeat the enemy or be defeated yourself.

Taking in a deep breath as you closed your eyes, you just mentally prayed and hoped that all of the intense training with your ex-childhood best friend has at least done something for you and that you will be well-prepared as you both head into your designated location for tomorrow night.

Let’s just get this done and over with.

The both of you arrived discreetly at the location, equipped with a radio earpiece to receive necessary transmissions from one another to keep each other in the loop as you both parted ways to scout around the area.

The target of the mission was to infiltrate one of the largest and most well-known casinos in the heart of Seoul, The Grand Palace, as it is believed that the area itself was used for human trafficking, which explains the sudden disappearance of a handful of women in their early 20s over the past few months.

According to the information you both were given, as written in the red folder, the CEO of the casino, Mr Kim, was the mastermind behind all of this and had his men surrounding the casino at all times to prevent information from spreading while keeping his gambling business on the run.

Both of your mission was to infiltrate the control room—download all of the necessary information that could potentially expose the hidden and true business the casino was making money from. And, of course, to get the girls out of there once and for all.

Changmin suggested taking on the latter as he knew the area would be armed with more enemies to keep the girls out of reach. It was best suited for him to take on the role of doing the dirty work instead of you potentially. In return, you were to get to the control room and bypass the security, download the necessary data, get out of there, and pass it on to the FBI, who were already armed and ready for your signal.

So that was precisely what you did, with no room for arguments this time. It was kind of a maze to navigate to the control room, especially when the casino was filled with many individuals and the place was dark as hell. Yet, you had to bypass everyone while being undetected. To the best of your abilities, you eventually reached the destination, and sure enough, you were met with your worst nightmare.

Tons of red light laser security filled the room way before the entrance to the control room.

You were flexible, to say the least, but there is no way you could bypass all of these on your own. Whenever you were met in such a situation, you always had your superior or partner to figure it out together. But time was ticking, and you had no choice but to do it all alone this time.

As you slowly bent through each of the lasers and eventually made your way to the last one, you breathed in relief that there was no one around to notice your presence. But your happiness did not last for long, as you missed out on one of the lasers that was situated close to your right ankle. Sure enough, the alarms have begun going off.

Panicking, you tried your best to figure out an escape route as quickly as possible. But given the room's darkness, it was impossible to notice anything in particular.

That is until a lightbulb dings in your mind, and you look up to see a slightly ajar air vent.

It’s now or never.

With the equipment you were geared up with, you somehow managed to quickly get into the vent right before security guards came pouring into the room, trying to find the culprit behind all of this.

You began trying to calm your fast-beating heart down, that is, until you felt a pair of warm hands cupped over your mouth.

“Have they not taught you well how the very first rule of becoming a spy is not to get caught?”

That voice. It was Changmin.

You turned behind to find the male looking very displeased, and he was still cupping your mouth, not letting it go as he was convinced your breathing would definitely blow up both of your covers. Frustrated, you tried your best to fight against his grip, loosening yourself from him and yelling back at him silently.

“Look, laser securities was not my best forte.”

“That’s not a valid excuse, Y/N. You literally had one job, and you failed at doing so.”

You scoffed. “Really, Changmin? After all these years, you suddenly show up in my life again, only to turn into this cold-blooded spy with zero empathy left inside of him? Has becoming one of the elites affected your ego that much?”

Then, there was a slight pause. Changmin’s face then darkens as he scooches closer to you. “Don’t you dare say it as if you knew what I have been through over the years that we were separated from one another.”

Clearly, you were not backing down this time. “Oh yeah, then tell me. All the bullshit you went through made you turn into such a heartless individual.”

In the blink of an eye, Changmin cups his hands around your mouth once again as he pushes you down on the surface of the vent. He is now crawling up against you, moving in closer to you.

“You take that back right now, miss Y/N. I swear if I ever hear one more word from you—”

“Then what?” You muffled.

Then it all happened. Changmin did what he knew was best to shut you up. As swiftly as he often portrays with his martial arts abilities, he removes his hand from your mouth and plants a kiss directly onto your lips. The whole thing was aggressive and messy, as one would say, he was now kissing you messily, trying by all means to keep your mouth shut as the enemies were still down below.

On the other hand, you were far too taken aback by what happened, and your eyes were now as wide as they could ever be. Somehow, your body did not reject his touch or the kiss, in fact, you actually liked it.

Was it because you were too deprived of having him close to you? How badly you have missed him so much?

And how you never got to confess to him that you had feelings for him right before he left all those years ago.

This kiss was a dream come true for you. And you were not planning to let him go anytime soon. Instead, you moved your hands to tangle in his hair as you opened your mouth slightly to allow for more room for the both of you. Changmin then lays one of his hands on the side of your waist while the other travels up to one of your breasts, giving them a light squeeze. Adding to the tension, he then makes way for his tongue to enter your mouth, trying his best to devour up all of the elicit moans that you were letting out to keep this whole make-out session as quiet as possible.

And god, how much he loved hearing the moans coming out from you.

Neither of you planned on stopping anytime soon because this all felt so good. It was as if you both had longed for each other and now that you finally had, you were not going to let him go just yet.

Finally, after minutes, the both of you were gasping for air when Changmin realised that nobody was in the room anymore. The coast was clear, and both of you were safe enough to return and continue the mission.

Trying your best to steady your breathing again, you decided to shoot the male with a little tease. “You treat all of your ladies like this?”

“...Shut up.”

It did not take you both long enough to be able to infiltrate the control room. With your abilities, you both managed to knock out all of the individuals in the room cold while you went to the main system to download all of the information needed to expose the casino. As ordered by Changmin previously, you wasted no time leaving the premises as soon as possible to get help from the FBI.

While you were doing that, Changmin made his way to where the girls were kept captive and defeated all the guards on standby on his own. He then managed to free them all and escorted them out, where the police and medical assistants were already waiting for them.

At the end of the day, the mission was a huge success, and the mastermind and his team were eventually placed behind bars, facing life imprisonment as punishment.

After returning to your headquarters a few days later, you were then promoted to joining the elites by Director Ji himself, as he was pleased with your performance. However, there was one strict rule that these agents were to follow.

Never engage in personal matters with one another.

Before you could think about it further, your phone buzzed and you exited your agency, feeling slightly excited as you made your way into the black vehicle already waiting for you.

As soon as you opened the door and entered, you stared at the male with one of his hands on the steering wheel while the other came up to cup your cheek.

“Say, won’t your dad eventually discover all of this?” You questioned with a concerned look on your face.

Changmin then leans in to give a peck on your lips.

“Who says he needs to find out about it?”

masterlist

taglist: @deoboyznet @kflixnet @k-films @flwoie @hokupi @zzoguri @kyusqult @tinkerbell460 @cheonsafics @sulkygyu @jaerisdiction @vernyangel (join my permanent taglist here!)

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merakiui · 5 months

Note

This Master Chef event certainly made some choices with the chef/judge combos.

Floyd grinning like a full a he seems out some barely editable crap. Said crap landing in front of Jade who makes a face like, 'wtf, you expect me to eat this?' Floyd on the side lines, fully enjoying the situation.

Also, is Sebek and Malleus the most fortunate or unfortunate combo? He gets to serve food to his beloved Waka-sama but... it will be forever until it is editable. But! But! Then he'll make some 100% masterpieces and get the praise of his idol! Let's... not think of the end of the event where we are burning ingredients for the 3 coins and thaumarks... Poor Malleus, first he endures Lilia's cooking and now this... 😢

I love master chef!!!!! :D it's so fun to see how all of the characters cook and if any of them can cook (or at least follow instructions and recipes). Floyd and Sebek is just as chaotic a duo as Jade and Lilia.

It's peak sibling silliness with judge Jade and chef Floyd. T_T Floyd notes how Jade started giving his critique on the dish after he finished eating it LOL. That is such a sibling thing to do. I just know Floyd wanted to wipe that smile off his brother's face after having to listen to all of the little details Jade nitpicked. Some of them were probably just for the sake of messing with Floyd. He probably told him something like: "This could use more mushrooms" when there aren't any mushrooms in it to begin with. Floyd is one more unnecessary comment away from punching Jade to get him to be quiet. Someone step in between them before they start bickering over the food. >_<

Omg and chef Sebek and judge Malleus.... truthfully, I think Sebek is the lesser of two evils in this case because he would genuinely try his very hardest to make an edible and delicious dish for waka-sama! He'd never be able to live with the shame and humiliation if he cooked a dish that wasn't up to his liege's standards. :( that, and I think it's not that hard to surpass Lilia at cooking. Sebek could butter bread and already he's leagues better than Lilia. ^^;;;; with Lilia, the "buttered bread" you receive will have undergone multiple steps because Lilia thought it was much too plain and he wanted to add a little ✨ razzle-dazzle ✨ to the buttered bread. Lilia probably butters his bread with aquarium pebbles or gravel or something crazy and impossible to eat.

#twisted chit chat #rendy-a #diasomnia i am so sorry you have to endure lilia's atrocious cooking...#he is not cooking. in fact he is experimenting with ingredients and somehow they always become near-lethal #that soup is not soup it's a bubbling brew and it is evil and you may not wake up after eating it

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cheritzteam · 6 months

Text

[The Ssum] Halloween 2023 Event Announcement

Hello, dear lab participant.

We bring you news on this year’s Halloween events.

< ① City of Free Men : Halloween Celebratory Lab >

For the following period, a Celebratory Lab📚 celebrating Halloween 2023 will open in the City of Free Men.

Share your horror fiction (movies, novels, etc.) recommendations with other lab participants, and try your chances at becoming a lucky lab participant(5 Korean, 5 international users) for a reward of 200 Aurora Batteries!

Celebratory Lab open for: October 24th, 2023 (Tue) 9:00 AM KST ~ November 6th, 2023 (Mon) KST Lucky Lab Participant Announcement: November 9th, 2023 (Thu) KST *Posts will not disappear after the open period, but you will not be able to write new posts.

< ② Treat and Treat? >

This Halloween season, three spooky yet adorable Ssumones in Halloween costumes🦇 will come to visit you.

Don't forget to prepare some candy for him!

Press the pumpkin button🎃 under the Day display to make a special call📞 and receive a commemorative photo📸 of your Ssumone.

You will also earn a Halloween 2023-exclusive Trivial Feature to add to your collection.

Halloween Seasonal Contents open for: October 30th, 2023 (Mon) ~ November 3rd, 2023 (Wed) (Based on your time zone) Due to the Halloween Commemorative Call bug, Halloween Seasonal Content(call, photo) is now available until November 3(your timezone). Seasonal Content includes: Halloween Commemorative Call + Halloween Commemorative Photo + Halloween Trivial Feature *Commemorative calls and photos can be revisited at any time after unlocking in your Milky Way calendar and Gallery. *Halloween Game-Access Trivial Feature is only available for one day, October 31st.

Also, don't forget to collect game-access rewards that will be available from the start of the Halloween Celebratory Lab and throughout the Halloween event🎁.

Game-Access Rewards Available: October 24th, 2023 (Tue) - November 6th, 2023 (Mon) KST In-Game Access Reward: 15 Aurora Batteries + 3 Boxes of Treats

< ③ Trick or Treat! >

Can you predict what costume your Ssumone will wear this Halloween?

Use love telepathy to guess your Ssumone's outfit in the Halloween commemorative photo!

Up to 9 lab participants will win 100 Aurora Batteries for guessing his Halloween costume correctly(3 lucky draw winners for each Ssumone)✨

Event Period: October 24th, 2023 (Tue) ~ October 28th, 2023 (Sat) (KST) How to Participate: Share your predictions for your Ssumone's Halloween costume on social media with the dedicated hashtag. Dedicated Hashtag: #TheSsum_TrickorTreat_Teo / #TheSsum_TrickorTreat_Harry / #TheSsum_TrickorTreat_June Winner Announcement: November 9th, 2023 (Thu) (KST) *Social media participation is limited to X(Twitter), Tumblr, and Instagram. *If you steal someone else's work, your prize may be canceled even after the winners are announced. *For Instagram, you must DM a link to your post to The Ssum's official account (@thessum_official) so we can verify your entry.

Have a spooky day with The Ssum🧚‍♂️🧛‍♂️🧙‍♀️

Thank you.

Cheritz

#TheSsum #TS #Cheritz #TheSsum_TrickorTreat_Teo #TheSsum_TrickorTreat_Harry #TheSsum_TrickorTreat_June

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juyeonszn · 8 months

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AND THEN THERE IS YOU

PAIRING ju haknyeon x f!reader (gn technically since there are no gendered terms)

WORD COUNT 1.17k

GENRES fluff ﹒very slight angst like blink and u miss it

WARNINGS another fic of mine that doesn’t require an 18+ warning… fawn in her tamed era 🙏, ur heart will ache from how </3 this is, mentions of divorce, reader had kind of a shitty childhood, reader also has some intimacy issues, hak is the most patient and kind person ever, throws up everywhere bc me when </3

SUMMARY he was content loving you until you were ready to love him.

MORE ANDDDDD my insanity strikes again!!!!1!1!1! aka in my dr. seuss william shakespeare edgar allan poe steven king arc 😍 my inspiration has been crazy lately, so enjoy this before juyeonszn goes into a drought deeper into the semester 😭 ANYWAYS MAE (@maessseongs) HERE U GO!! i kept it fluffier and kinda short bc it just felt right, i hope that’s okay with u! this is the last request from my 100 followers event so far ✨ prompts used are: 2, 7 >:)

PERM TAGLIST @winterchimez @maessseongs

Relationships were a weird concept to you. Growing up, you’d never really been shown affection. Your parents weren’t the type to pack your lunch for school in the morning and send you off with a peck on the cheek followed by an ‘I Love You’.

In fact, they never told you that they loved you very often. Maybe a handful of times in your whole life did you hear those three words uttered from them. And even less did you hear that they were proud of you. It was worse when you took a step back and watched their own crumbling marriage.

As long as they’d been together, you never heard them tell the other how much they were appreciated. They fought more than they got along. You usually fell asleep to the sound of doors slamming and loud arguing in the hallway. When they finally decided to get a divorce, you almost cried out of joy. They were draining more out of you than each other.

So, perhaps that had to do with your fucked up view of relationships as you became an adult. You could never fully comprehend what love was since you didn’t exactly have stellar role models. Boyfriends came and went, losing interest as soon as they realized how disconnected you were. Your heart was never truly in it.

And then, you met Haknyeon.

Sweet sweet Haknyeon, who only cared about your happiness and your well being. Haknyeon, who didn’t ask you for more than you could give. Who didn’t push you for answers when you shut him out. Who patiently waited on the sidelines while you rebooted yourself.

If there were a higher being out in the universe, they’d done an excellent job at putting all the best qualities into Ju Haknyeon. By some miracle or a stroke of luck, he found his way to you. You’ll always think that he deserves better than you, but you’ll also always be eternally grateful that you have him.

As summer takes its last breath and the air begins to chill, leaves wilting to the streets and crunching below the feet of passersby, your motivation to get up in the mornings has started its tumultuous decline. You don’t know what it is about the change in seasons that continues to put a damper in your mood as the years go on, but it’s become almost too much to bear. It was no longer a dull pressure in the pit of your stomach and the back of your mind. Now it was a heaviness that settled in your heart and weighed you down.

It was a Thursday evening and you were tucked into bed already, despite a peek of the sun still visible over the horizon. Your head was pounding despite the room being silent. You curl into yourself further just as your bedroom door creaks open. Haknyeon whispers an apology, going to exit the room when he sees the state you’re in.

It was standard for him to leave you alone until you were ready to talk. He knew you had a hard time opening up, considering what you’d grown up with, and he didn’t want to be the person who pestered you to tell him what was wrong. He wanted you to feel comfortable coming to him first. Haknyeon couldn’t handle being the reason you were pushed to your breaking point.

But for some reason, this time is different. You don’t want to be left alone. You want to be held. You want him to kiss your forehead and tell you he loves you, unlike what you had when you were younger.

“Hak, wait,” you call, voice slightly hoarse. “Stay. Please.”

He’s taken aback by your request, but doesn’t hesitate to follow through. He climbs into the bed behind you, wrapping his arms around your center. In spite of the fact that this wasn’t a usual occurrence, that cuddling was something you’ve only done a couple other times, he embraces you as if this was second nature for him. As if holding you in his arms was his very life source.

“Are you sure?” He asks softly, words spoken gently into your hair.

“Mhm, I want this,” you nod, nuzzling into his arm. “I have never felt this safe with anyone before.”

Haknyeon’s breathing stutters. You’ve never admitted this to him before, you’ve never ever said ‘I Love You’, but he’s always been willing to wait. He understood that this was a new territory for you. He was content loving you until you were ready to love him, even if it took months— even if it took years. That’s how much he cared for you. In his eyes, you were the reason there were stars in the sky. You were the reason why the sun rose in the morning and why the moon shone at night.

He kisses your temple. “I’ll be here to protect you.”

You turn in his arms to get a good look at his face. Because it was so rare that you were this close, you wanted to memorize his features from this distance. You trace his cheekbones and jawline with your thumb, eyes flickering down to his lips.

You lean forward, minimizing the gap between you to press your lips into a sweet kiss, almost as sweet as him. Haknyeon gasps out of surprise, but quickly reciprocates your affection, bringing up a hand to cup your face. He allows you to set the pace, to move at a speed you were comfortable with in case this was all you wanted.

When you pull back to catch your breath, he smiles, taking in how pretty you were. He could never get enough of you. He thinks that was his biggest flaw, being so greedy when it came to you. He couldn’t help but indulge himself every time you let him, though if it were a sin, he’d gladly commit it over and over again.

“However many years we have left, I wanna spend them all with you.”

You feel the tears dripping down your cheeks before you register that you’re crying. You couldn’t possibly fathom how Haknyeon came to find love in the form of you; the hollow shell of a person who’s never felt the warmth of another human in their life. You didn’t think you deserved someone like him. The only logical explanation was that you were a saint in a past life, and the higher being you mentioned earlier was rewarding you for it.

But even so, he loved you. Enough that he wasn’t afraid to spend the rest of his life with you waking up on the other side of the bed.

He swipes away some stray tears with the pad of his thumb and kisses your nose. You let out a small laugh, connecting your lips once more. It conveys all you want to say, but you know saying it out loud will make it concrete. It’ll solidify what you’ve been building up the courage to finally tell him.

“I wanna spend them all with you, too.”

#the boyz #the boyz x reader #the boyz fluff #tbz #tbz x reader #tbz fluff #the boyz haknyeon #tbz haknyeon #ju haknyeon x reader #ju haknyeon fluff #haknyeon x reader #haknyeon fluff #juyeonszn #juyeonszn.100🪩

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the-bad-batch-baroness · 11 months

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Prompt 9: “Where did you learn how to do that?”

f!reader x Rex romantic pls

soooo the first thing that came to mind was flirting while they were sparring and the reader flips him over her shoulder and he’s just like “Holy shit, I’m in love with this woman” but then he flips her back and gets the upper hand. Just some flirty teasing wit some fluff if possible. I LOVE YOUR WRITING 🩷✨🩷✨🩷✨

Let's Get Physical

Rex x Fem!Reader

Pairing: Rex x Fem!Reader

Tags & Warnings: fluff, flirting, romance, sparring, suggestive themes

Word Count: 100

Author's Note: Hello anon and thank you for participating in my follower event 🥰 I'm so happy you love my writing, thank youuuuuuuuu 😱 Phew, you got a lot of details there for 100 words! This was a tough one, but I think I got most of what you were looking for. I hope it meets your expectations 🙏🏻 Please enjoy 💚

“Don’t go easy on me, Rex,” you tease while dancing around the training mat.

Rex follows your movements and takes a few half-hearted swipes. “I don’t like hitting women.”

You smirk and lunge towards the Captain, flipping him over your shoulder as his back hits the mat with a thud.

“Where did you learn how to do that?” Rex asks in shock.

“C’mon, Rex,” you lean down and whisper in his ear. “Let’s get physical.”

Your words race through his body like electricity. He grabs you, flips you over, straddles your torso, and pins your arms down. “Don’t tempt me.”

Event Masterlist

Masterlist

A03

Tag List: @nahoney22

Join my taglist HERE

Tip me a tea on Ko-fi HERE

#tbbb writes #captain rex x female reader #captain rex x reader #captain rex x you #rex x reader #rex x you #captain rex #tcw rex #rex #100 followers drabble prompt celebration event #drabble #drabble prompts #100 words #the clone wars #clone wars #tcw #star wars

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jujutsubaby · 2 months

Text

🤍 ENJOY A COFFEE BREAK WITH YOUR FAVS. what's your favorite thing to order at a cafe? based on your order and what cafe you go to, i'll write you a short and sweet meet cute with a character that matches the vibe of your order. i'll keep this even going for a couple days or until my inbox gets full. this event is sfw and open to everyone! thank you all for 100 followers, and enjoy a little treat on me. ٩(◕‿◕｡)۶

🤍 GUIDELINES. it's super simple! first, choose a cafe from below (aka choose your fandom) and second, pick your order from the menu below. you can pick however many or little items you want - it's totally up to you! anon is allowed and you don't have to be a follower! (✿◠‿◠)

🤍 STATUS. closed

⋆ 𝜗𝜚 ˚⟡. | CHOOSE A CAFÉ ! | .⟡˚ 𝜗𝜚 ⋆

🤍 CAFE HEAVEN & EARTH. you'll find characters from jujutsu kaisen frequenting this joint after missions and in between classes! throughout the heavens and the earth, this cafe alone is the honored one. ✨

🤍 MAISON ROSE. you can find characters from attack on titan lounging around here for brunch on weekends or in between survey corps drills. this artsy parisian cafe newly opened in paradis, modeled after it's sister location, maison maria, in marley. 🫖

🤍 POCHITA'S. characters from chainsaw man gather here for some quality squad bonding or early morning caffeine runs. a cute hole in the wall joint located conveniently a couple blocks from the public safety building. the floors are always a bit sticky, but that's how you know they have the best pastries in tokyo. 🥐

⋆ 𝜗𝜚 ˚⟡. | WHAT'S YOUR ORDER ? | .⟡˚ 𝜗𝜚 ⋆

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kyupidos · 7 months

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Congratulations on your 100+ followers milestone, Asmo! You deserved it<33 Can I request some dorm leaders reaction to a gn reader saying "You hold the key to my heart." To them? Thank you for creating drabbles, scenarios and fanfics for us too 🥺✨

10/14/23’s delivery 🏹✉️ twisted wonderland

key to my heart 🕸★ଘ(੭ˊᵕˋ)੭* ੈ✩‧₊ 🕸★ଘ(੭ˊᵕˋ)੭* ੈ✩‧₊ 🕸★ଘ(੭ˊᵕˋ)੭* ੈ✩‧₊ ;; summary. ‘in your closeness, you find yourself vulnerable with them—in the best way possible.’

100 follower milestone event homepage <- ! | event m.list

characters. dorm leaders : riddle rosehearts , leona kingscholar , azul ashengrotto , vil schoenheit , idia shroud ( separate ) ;; romantic . 🕸️ tags. reader is gender neutral ( you/your ), reader may or may not be yuu ( up to the reader ), reader is dressed as a vampire but not intended to be from pomefiore ( you can still imagine it though ), reader is mostly a flirt, romantic fluff

📞 _a/n. ohmegosh hii etihw, thank you sm <33 this took me a while because i wanted to put a halloweeny spin on it for the occasion, and i had no ideas for kalim or malleus </3 ( i’ll probably dedicate a separate post to them if possible, i’m not lying when i say i was STUMPED ), but i hope you enjoy!

r. rosehearts

— love is a delicate but wonderful thing, riddle thinks, and though he’s always been nervous at the idea of finding the wrong one, or even never finding one at all, the idea gets him giddy. and now he has you, and having experienced love for himself now, he can’t help but be thankful that you found each other. not to mention that now he also gets to celebrate halloween at night raven with you, something he usually doesn’t get to do no matter the circumstances. but with his time at night raven, things have been excitedly different, especially since you came along.

— he was dressed accordingly to heartslabyul’s theme this year of course, as a skeleton, preserving order in the graveyards. you on the other hand, had chosen to adorn the fit of a vampire. he had to say; he thought you looked quite stunning, the look suited you. though, he wasn’t quite sure of the extra flirtatious personality that came along with it. “oho? riddle darling, is that you in that skeleton wear?” you teased, close enough beside him to twirl a strand of his hair with your finger, leaving him with nothing less of reddened cheeks, “how cute! with every version of you i fall more and more in love, really.”

— riddle tried to come up with a witty response, but was interrupted when you took the hand you were twirling his hair with and used it to pat his head, using your other to motion towards your chest. “you hold the key to my heart, you know?” and as he watched you smile, he noticed you were speaking with much more genuinity than with your flirts—you knew his perspective of love, and you knew how much words like these had an effect on him. “vampires only really have one lover in their lifetime..so i’m glad it’s you~” maybe you were trying to kill him with how flustered you were making him, but he thinks that with love as genuine as this, it would be a good way to go.

l. kingscholar

— a pirate and a vampire, certainly a dynamic duo, but the skies the limit on halloween couple costumes. perhaps it seemed even odder to see a pirate and vampire collaborating when decorating the coliseum to appear like a shipwrecked area, but leona didn’t mind; he just appreciated the time he got to spend with you. he found some annoyance in your flirts, which were apparently to “keep up with the vampire bit”, ( he’s lying, he’s absolutely ravishing in it if his tail and ears are anything to go off of, ) but still, he could appreciate some time with his lover.

— the beast man couldn’t help but roll his eyes as you complimented his muscle, saying that it was ‘to be expected of such an attractive pirate like himself’—not that he disagreed, of course, he knows for a fact how attractive he is as the second prince. he does wish you could hold back on the touchiness though. as much as he hates to admit it, it’s starting to get him a little flustered, and he’s trying to focus on decorating the shipwreck. “wouldn’t it be nice decorating our focus home like this?” you wistfully sighed with a hand to your cheek, baring your fake vampiric teeth, and now leona’s lost all focus. now he kind of wants to hop aboard the flirting joyride.

— he smirks of course, “obviously. i’ll even spoil you all you want, as your prince.” you can’t help but giggle, and the atmosphere feels airy and fun already, not like it ever wasn’t. “mm-mm, you always know the right things to say, leona. it’s no wonder you hold the key to my heart~” leona’s face softened for a moment, before he threw a pearl necklace at your face, forcing you to grab at it and make sure it didn’t break apart. “hey, is this your way of spoiling me?! throwing pearl necklaces at my face?!” “hmph, yeah.” an obvious lie, he just didn’t want you to see how obviously flustered he was.

a. ashengrotto

— what were the thoughts of a greedy business man like azul when it came to love? a great question, certainly, after all he originally never believed he would have time for such a thing. the idea did please him, but considering his goals to become such a valiant businessman, he concluded he simply wouldn’t have the time to care for a lover, even though his younger self so longingly wished for one. so he gave it up, deciding to focus on his future career. the idea still comes to him every now and then, to loosen up at least a little to go on a quest for romance, but until he met you, the madol he earned from the mostro lounge enticed him more.

— which is why halloween is liked by azul in quite a unique way in contrast to the others; after all, the limited-time only menus he makes during this time brings in quite the handsome amount of madol. so before he goes out, he asks you kindly to help him adjust the bandages on his mummy outfit to look natural. you were already properly dressed in your vampire costume, so you figured you might as well help him out since you had so much free time already. he thinks now, about how foolish he was to think he didn’t have the time for a lover. he quite likes spending time with you, even that much being an understatement, and would do whatever he could just to be able to do so.

— the octomer tried not to let the blood rush to his cheeks at least too much as you sweet talked and complimented him like there was no tomorrow, all while smoothly wrapping the bandages around his clothing and figure. “you’re going to look gorgeous while scamming all your customers,” you joked, azul scoffing in mock offense. “oh, me?” he waved his hand dismissively, “you’re too harsh, dear angelfish. i would never scam any poor unfortunate soul that comes across me.” you just laughed, “of course. your genuinity’s what gave you the privelege of the key to my heart, after all.” and despite his prior confidence, azul felt like dying inside his octopod at your words—in happiness, obviously.

v. schoenheit

— two vampires with practically blinding beauty, vil thought pridefully, it was like you were matching halloween costumes, though it was more of a pleasant coincidence of anything else— not that he’d like that take away from his win, though. as he wanted to make sure everyone was looking their best for halloween week, he offered makeup advice for every dorm respectively based on their costumes, asking you specifically if you wanted his help with the matter. and, who were you to deny your lover the act of intimacy of putting on someone’s makeup for them? it was a win win for the both of you, vil would get to make sure you look your best, and you get some time alone with him.

— as expected from a beauty guru like him, it took zero effort to get a supply of makeup that fit you. so with that, he went straight to work, taking into account your personal make up preferences and your he additional necessity for a vampiric aspect to it. and of course as to be expected, vil certainly did not disappoint. anyone could look at you and say that your halloween costume and make up gave you a nice spooky allure that was fitting for halloween week. he would take it upon himself to say it, but he didn’t want this to turn into a two hour long flirting session.

— you looked at yourself in the vanity mirror, and vil put his hands on his hips smirkingly as he watched you do so. “hmm, perhaps this is my best work yet.” you smiled amusedly, “how romantic of you to save your best work, for me, vil~ i’m glad we’re both vampires, otherwise, how could a mortal ever hold the key to my heart? or, perhaps i could turn you..” vil huffed, choosing to lightly hit your shoulder with his makeup brush, you grabbing onto it dramatically as if it actually hurt. “don’t go saying such things casually, dear,” vil teased, “in the acting world, it’s preferred if you give it your all.”

i. shroud

— “waa, your vampire costume is so cool! it reminds me of a character from a childhood anime i loved!” idia fawned excitedly over your outfit, you gleaming in pride. he’d been like this for quite some time now, circling around you to get a good look at your attire, which he couldn’t help but be reminded of aforementioned childhood anime by. love didn’t come frequently to the housewarden of ignihyde, but when it did, whether it be for characters from shows he watched as a kid of for you, he clung to that love hard. “seriously, you look like a top-tier cosplayer right now! just the coolest!”

— there wasn’t much going on at the moment, so naturally the two of you decided to show off your halloween costumes for night raven’s halloween week to each other. plus, during months like these, there were plenty of limited time events that would go on for a lot of the games idia liked, so as per his request, the two of you were planning a horror game marathon as well as some regular games that just so happened to have some halloween themed events. for now though, you pridefully posed about, showing off your cape and bowing like a magician would at the end of their magic show. you continued flaunting your outfit, “of course, it’s only natural i take into account the stuff you’re fond of as well, yeah?”

— idia frowned in what you could only assume to be an irked way, complaining pitifully, “if i knew you’d dress up so cooly for me, i’d try to get the dorm dressed up in a theme you liked. hmph.” you just laughed in amusement, finding the situation funny, “don’t worry about it. hey, why don’t i cheer you up with your childhood favorite character’s favorite iconic phrase, eh? after all it’s true, y’know, you hold the key to my heart~!” ..ok, now give idia some time to pull himself together. he’s currently praying his tablet, that was put to the side, managed to record it so that he can listen to you say those words on repeat while squealing and kicking his feet like a highschool girl whenever.

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apteryxparvus · 6 months

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Congrats on 100! I’ve a request

Scaramouche/Wanderer (genshin impact) x reader roommates au. They’re doing mundane things together like cooking, cleaning, lounging, etc because they finally both got a day off work

Two months later, I finally finished this piece 😭

Part of my ✨ 100 followers milestone event ✨ that ran from September 2nd to September 9th.

Pairing — Scaramouche / Reader

Word count — 1,288 words

Content warning — slightly suggestive themes, Scaramouche might seem a bit OOC

“Wake up, sleepy head,” you whisper in Scaramouche’s ear, breath gently tickling his skin. His slumbering form stirs, mumbling something unintelligible as he instinctively turns, pulling the blanket closer to himself.

You can’t help but stifle a chuckle at his adorable drowsiness. Nestling deeper beneath the cozy blanket, you draw your body closer to his, hands gently resting upon his waist. His skin radiates a comforting warmth that contrasts with the coolness of the morning air.

The room is bathed in a gentle golden glow as the morning light filters through the window, illuminating the dust particles suspended in the air.

“It’s nearly noon,” you murmur, placing a tender kiss upon Scaramouche’s forehead. He furrows his brows, letting out a low grumble. “You’ve had your beauty sleep, and now it’s time to rise and greet the day!”

Scaramouche slowly turns towards you, eyes fluttering open to meet your gaze. Blinking a few times, he adjusts to the sunlight streaming into the room. Despite the slight frown adorning his face, his eyes are filled with a mix of affection and a sleep-induced grogginess.

“How about we stay like this a little longer?” he mumbles, voice husky and laced with the remnants of sleep.

“Nope,” you laugh softly at his request, a mischievous glimmer dancing in your eyes. “Now get up,” you assert, and with a swift movement, you wrap your legs around his, drawing him closer. You give his cheek a playful, yet gentle nip, eliciting a surprised reaction from him.

Scaramouche looks at you with wide eyes. “Was that really needed?” he asks, feigning a hurt expression. “Ruining my precious beauty sleep, as you called it.”

Realizing that you’ve successfully disrupted his peaceful slumber, you giggle at his protest. "Oh, come on," you tease, tracing a finger along his jawline. "Who needs beauty sleep when you're already the most handsome person I know?"

“Fine, fine,” Scaramouche murmurs under his breath. A smile tugs at the corners of his lips, and he shakes his head in mock annoyance but the twinkle in his eyes betrays him — his lips meet yours in a gentle kiss. You feel yourself melting as the warmth of his lips linger against yours.

“Breakfast time then? How do you feel about some chazuke?”

Scaramouche’s eyes brighten at the mention of breakfast. “Sounds perfect,” he replies. “I love how you always know exactly what I crave.”

You can’t help but blush at his words. “Stop buttering me up, and let’s get to work.”

The kitchen is alive with the sounds of your synchronized movements — the clinking of utensils and the gentle sizzle of the grill pan. The fragrant aroma of the grilled eel permeates the air, its tantalizing scent mixing with the comforting earthiness of freshly brewed green tea.

Scaramouche takes charge of preparing the bowls of rice, submerging them in the tea. When the eel is perfectly seared, you transfer a few tender pieces into the waiting bowls, and sprinkle furikake over them, watching as the colorful seasoning melts into the rice.

Your attention is drawn to your boyfriend across the low table. You watch him pile several plump umeboshi onto his bowl, their deep color standing out against the white grains of rice, followed by a large assortment of pickled vegetables — radish, carrots, large pieces of lavender melon and seagrass.

After mumbling a quick thanks for the food, you lift your wooden chopsticks, savoring the blended scents wafting from the steaming bowl.

Scaramouche lifts his own chopsticks, a satisfied smirk gracing his lips.

“Are you even going to taste anything beneath this mountain of pickled stuff?” you taunt.

He shoots you a playful sideways glare, before snatching the plumpest-looking umeboshi and tossing it whole into his mouth. You watch both fascinated and appalled as he continues to devour the pickled vegetables. Your nose scrunches involuntarily as you imagine the sourness on your own tongue, yet Scaramouche seems utterly unaffected, clearly enjoying the taste.

“You simply don’t know what you’re missing out,” he says, waving his chopsticks dismissively. "This is reserved for those with refined palates."

“Says the madman who thinks wasabi is too mild!” you shoot back.

Your morning banter dissolves into laughter as the two of you continue to enjoy the meal. Once your bowls are empty, Scaramouche insists on taking care of the clean up.

From your seat on the low table, you watch as your boyfriend begins to clean up the plates. His movements are purposeful and efficient. The sigh of him — sleeves rolled up and focused on the task at hand — and the domesticity of the scene ignite a warmth within you.

You stand up and make your way towards Scaramouche, closing the distance between you as you stand up on your toes. With a light touch, your lips graze against the sensitive skin of his neck.

As you press your lips against a specific spot, his pulse quickens beneath your touch. Scaramouche pauses in his task, his body tensing before he relaxes into your embrace. His hands, still holding the dirty dishes, momentarily falter. A soft moan escapes his lips, mingling with the sound of running water and the clattering of plates.

You press your body against his, feeling the heat and strength of his figure against your own. Lingering for a moment, you savor the connection between you, before pulling back slightly.

“Thanks for the cleanup,” you tease. With a light skip in your step, you turn away from him and make your way towards the living room, laughter trailing behind you. Letting out a contented sigh, you sink into the plush cushion of the couch.

Scaramouche enters the living room a few minutes later, eyes locking onto your relaxed figure, curled up on the couch with a blanket draped over your body, a peaceful expression on your face as you doze off slightly.

A devilish smile tugs at the corners of his lips as he quietly approaches. He takes in the sigh of you — your form wrapped in the softness of the blanket, your gentle, rhythmic breathing filling the room.

He crouches down, and leans in to get a closer look at your serene face. His eyes roam over your features — he traces the contours of your lips, the curve of your cheeks; he watches as your eyelashes flutter.

His touch is feather-light as he brushes a strand of hair away from your face.

You open your eyes slowly, momentarily confused by your surroundings. The sigh of your boyfriend crouching before you, his intense gaze locked with yours, brings you back to the present moment.

“Now look who is sleeping,” he teases. "All the work you put into waking me up, only to end up dozing off the moment you're away from me."

“Mmm, that breakfast did leave me feeling quite sleepy,” you murmur. Your hand emerges from beneath the blanket, reaching to grasp his own. You pull him towards you, his body falling atop yours. “Now, come join me for a short nap.”

Scaramouche chuckles. “Whatever this sleeping beauty wishes,” he responds as he slips under the blanket, snuggling his body against yours.

His arms wrap around your waist, pulling you closer to him. With every breath, you feel the rise and fall of his chest against your back, a rhythm that synchronizes with the pounding of your heart.

As his hold tightens, your body instinctively responds, melting into his embrace. The world around you fades away as you surrender yourself to the comfort and safety he provides — his hold becomes your little sanctuary.

"Don't forget, we still have chores to do," Scaramouche whispers, interrupting your blissful state of relaxation. "The apartment won't clean itself."

"Fuck the chores," you mumble, your voice barely audible as you press your head against Scaramouche's chest. "Now sleep."

Author's note: I failed one of my exams, so uh... I'll be studying for the resit and might be as online as I hoped to be 😫

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