#being wrapped in someone's arms like that

[seungcheorry]

warnings: reader is said to have a uterus and period cramps

“what are you doing?”, mingyu says with the most desperate look in his eyes he could manage.

“um… the dishes?”, you answer, looking back at him.

his long legs take him to your side with just three large steps, and suddenly he’s next to you.

“baby, i told you to just wait for me on the couch. you shouldn’t be doing this”, mingyu puts his hand under the running water, quickly pulling it back. “and you’re not even using hot water! what if your cramps come back?”

you chuckle, pushing him away with your hips.

“it’s okay, gyu. you cooked dinner for us, it’s only right for me to do the dishes.”

“no, it’s not”, he stomps his feet. what is he, 5 years old? “it’s freezing cold outside, this can’t possibly do any good to you.”

“i’ll be fine, i promise-”

“baby, please”, mingyu presses himself against you. “let’s just go back to the couch, i’ll do this tomorrow.”

with a sigh, you look at your boyfriend. it was already cute enough of him to take you to his place so he could cook you some dinner after you struggled the whole day with period cramps, but this? this is another level of being taken care of.

“i can finish this in like, 10 minutes if you get off me.”

“you can do it tomorrow morning then, not now”, he shakes his head. “please?”

mingyu reaches for the water once again, taking your hands in his as he washes the soap off them and then turns off the faucet.

“you’re such a big baby, oh my god”, you roll your eyes, slightly annoyed.

“and you’re really stubborn, has someone ever told you that?”

you bite back a ‘yes, they have!’, as mingyu wraps his arms around you and drags you back to the living room. he makes you sit between his legs, wrapping both of you with a blanket and telling his virtual assistant to turn off the lights and play a cooking show you two have been watching for a few weeks now.

damn him for being right, once again.

[lubdubology]

Soft Edges

SYNOPSIS: Logan doesn't know how to relax. So you help him.

PAIRING: Worst!Wolverine x fem!reader (Although minus the quick blip mention about the Void, you could imagine any Logan you'd like)

WC: 2K

WARNINGS: sexually suggestive innuendos; non-explicit descriptions of nakedness; playful banter; kissing; mild swearing; feeeeeelings; honestly, just tooth rotting fluff

A/N: I haven't written anything four hundred and eighty years seven years and I'm honestly kind of nervous about this. I thought my writing muse was long dead and buried. But here it is, seemingly revived. The idea for this story kind of just fell out of my head when I should have been napping while my toddler napped. The story won out. I hope you like it! <3

You wake with a jolt to the sound of Logan’s alarm blaring from his phone. From beside you comes Logan’s low, “Ah, fuck,” before silence reclaims the room. 

It’s early, the first rays of morning light just barely peeking above the horizon. You roll over and peer over your pillow to find Logan pulling on a pair of jeans. 

“I thought you were off today,” you mumble sleepily, laying your head back down and admiring the way his muscles move as he slips a shirt over his shoulders. 

He looks back at you with a soft smile. “Didn’t mean to wake you,” he says, continuing to dress. “Picked up an extra shift at the yard.”

Since returning from the Void, Logan had picked up a smattering of odd jobs to earn money. A couple of months working at a quarry. A per diem for a local contracting company. Currently a lumber yard thirty minutes outside of town. Despite notoriety for helping save the entirety of existence, some employers still had qualms about hiring someone from another universe. Not that he cared. You think he was just happy being useful. 

You reach for him and pull him down for a kiss. You can feel the curve of his smile against your lips and it’s these soft moments about him you love the most. “Do you even know how to relax?” you ask, snuggling back down against the rumpled sheets. 

“I relax,” he replies, standing up to grab his boots at the end of the bed. 

You can’t help the snort that escapes from you. “Name one thing you to do relax,” you counter, watching through half lidded eyes as he sits back down on the bed to lace up his boots. 

Logan pretends to think about it and then smirks. “You.”

He chuckles as you whip his pillow at him, your aim off as it sails harmlessly past his head and onto the floor. You hide your smile as he looks down at you, his eyes warm but still tired. “Relaxing really ain’t my style, sweetheart.” 

“You deserve it though,” you say, stifling a yawn. 

Logan looks down at you for a moment, his smirk fading as something softer settles in his expression, but he doesn’t respond to your statement. He stands and shrugs on his jacket, straightening out the collar before leaning down to press a kiss to your forehead. 

“Go back to sleep,” he murmurs.

You watch him leave and as you settle down to steal a couple more hours of sleep, you hatch a plan to show him just how nice relaxing can be. 

+++

You hum to yourself as you cook, the aroma of roasted potatoes and chicken filling the apartment. You’re just about to start on the green beans when you hear the jingle of Logan’s keys in the lock and the door swings open with a heavy creak. 

“In here, babe!” you call from the kitchen. 

“I could smell this all the way downstairs,” he comments, tossing his keys on the counter. “What’s this for?”

Logan wraps his arms around your waist and pulls you tight against his frame, nuzzling his nose where your neck and shoulder meet. With a smile, you reach back and lightly scratch your nails through the scruff along his jaw. He smells like sawdust and smoke as you press a light kiss to his cheek. 

You savor these moments with him. When you’d first met him, he was distant and wary, years of trauma causing him to be guarded. He warmed up slowly, his touches lingering longer and his words spilling more freely. But now, moments like this—where he’s soft and affectionate—have become more frequent. Logan craves touch and you are more than willing to reciprocate. 

“I thought you could use a nice dinner,” you say, your hand still tracing the line of his jaw. “Long day?”

Logan lets out a low grunt in response, his forehead resting against your shoulder. “One of those days where every idiot with a hammer thinks he can DIY,” he mutters, his breath warm against your skin. 

You smile and give his head an affectionate pat. “Well, you’re home now and I’ve got everything handled here. Dinner will be ready in just a few minutes.”

He pulls back just enough to look down at you, his eyebrows furrowing slightly. “Sure you don’t need help?”

“You try and help me, and I’ll beat you with this spoon,” you tease. 

Logan laughs and raises his eyebrow. “Promise?”

You smirk, giving him a playful nudge to the ribs with your elbow. “Don’t threaten me with a good time, Logan.”

Logan’s eyes crinkle at the corners, the kind of smile that softens all his sharp edges. He gives your waist a gentle squeeze before stepping back, his fingers lingering just a beat longer. “Alright, alright,” he says holding up his hands in mock surrender. “I’ll just go wash up.” 

As Logan retreats to the bathroom, you hear the rustle of him changing out of his work clothes and the thud of his boots as he tosses them to the floor. You finish dinner, resuming your quiet humming as you set the table. You finish plating everything when Logan emerges, work clothes changed for a fresh t-shirt and jeans. 

“Come eat, Lo.”

He joins you at the table and gives you an appreciative look as he sits down. “This smells incredible.”

You sit across from, watching as he takes the first bite, a prickle of anxiety setting along your spine as you wait for his reaction. A low groan of pleasure rumbles in his throat. “Fuck, this is good.”

A grin spreads across your face as he takes several more bites like a man starved. “I experimented with the cast iron skillet,” you comment as you watch him. “Looks like it was a solid impulse purchase.”

The two of you settle into a comfortable rhythm, enjoying the meal and sharing small pieces of conversation. Logan helps himself to seconds and as he finishes, he wipes his mouth with a napkin and sets his gaze on you. “You didn’t have to do this, you know,” he says, his voice low and warm. 

“I wanted to,” you reply simply. “And, like I told you this morning, you deserve it. Let me help you relax, Logan.”

There’s a pause, his expression softening as your words settle over him. You know he’s not one to ask for much and you can tell his savoring this moment. “You’re somethin’ else, you know that?” His voice is gruff but there’s a tenderness there that makes your chest ache. 

“A good something?”

He smiles. “The best somethin’.”

You finish dinner, swatting him away when he offers to help clean up and banishing him to the living room. Dishwasher loaded and leftovers put away, you join him on the couch. “Care to indulge me once more?”

He quirks his eyebrow. “What did you have in mind?”

+++

Logan stares at you dubiously as you lead him to the bathroom and gesture towards the tub. You flash him a grin as a frown tugs at the corner of his mouth. “It’s just a bath, Logan.”

He eyes the tub as if he’s waiting for it to swallow him whole. He crosses his arms across his chest. “I don’t do baths,” he mutters. 

You roll your eyes and place your hand on his chest, gently pushing him further into the bathroom. “Yeah, and you don’t relax either. Just humor me.”

Logan gives you a look—half amused, half reluctant—as he allows you to continue to nudge him closer. He reaches up and scratches at the back of his neck and blows out a sigh. “Fine,” he grumbles, “but only if you join me.”

You laugh softly, leaning up to press a kiss to his chin. “Tough bargain, but I accept.”

You turn from him and run the faucet, letting the tap run until you find the temperature sweet spot. Satisfied, you toss in some bath salts, the scent of eucalyptus quickly filling the room. The tension in Logan’s posture eases as you finish preparing the bath, but he still eyes you like he’s not entirely sure what comes next. 

Once the tub is filled, you shut off the tap and turn back towards him. “Okay, now strip.”

Logan smirks and raises an eyebrow. “Oh, so this is what you really wanted.”

“You’re not that hard to get naked, Logan,” you say with a laugh. 

He chuckles, but follows your instruction, pulling his shirt over his head. As you join him in undressing, you can’t help but admire his physique, his muscles flexing and gliding beneath his skin. You shimmy your panties down your hips as he kicks off his pants, leaving you both bare. 

You feel his gaze heavy on your skin as you step into the tub and beckon him to join you. He steps in, sitting down so his back is against your chest and he lets out a low groan as the warm water envelopes him.  Wrapping your legs around his hips, you cradle him and feel the tension ease from his muscles. 

“See?” you say, leaning to press a kiss to his temple. “Isn’t this nice?”

Logan peeks up at you and smirks. “The naked woman helps.”

You grab a washcloth and dip into the water to dampen it before running it over his chest. “You don’t have to admit you like it,” you say, rubbing the cloth in gentle circles along his collarbones. “You’re basically a wet noodle in my arms.”

He makes a wordless noise in the back of his throat and closes his eyes as you continue to wash him. A comfortable silence surrounds you, soft drops and splashes of water and the faint background hum of your apartment the only noises interrupting your space. You continue to wash him, gently massaging his shoulders, arms, down to the long fingers that know how to play you so well. A deep groan rumbles through his chest as you rub your fingers across the skin in between his knuckles. 

You eventually let the washcloth sink and wrap your arms Logan’s chest. He molds his arms against yours, lacing your fingers together. “I don’t deserve you,” he murmurs, his voice barely above a whisper. 

You shake your head and hold him just a little tighter. “You do, Logan. Despite your past, you’re a good man and you deserve someone to help shoulder your burdens.” Your voice is sincere as you press a soft kiss to the corner of his mouth. “Or least help you relax every once in a while.”

You soak until the water cools just enough to chill your skin. Reluctantly, you untangle yourself from him and nudge him to stand. He’s already got a towel slung low across his hips as you step out and he doesn’t even let you grab your own before pulling you close. 

A yelp dies on your lips as he cradles your face in his hands, thumbs pressing into the corners of your jaw as he tilts your mouth up to him. He inhales deeply through his nose, his lips moving expertly over yours, his tongue seeking the warmth of your kiss. 

You lean into him, your fingers trailing along his ribs and pressing into the damp of his skin. Logan kisses you once more, a gentle press to the corner of your mouth before he lets you go. 

“So,” he starts slowly, “Now that you’ve shown me how you relax, can I return the favor?”

A mischievous gleam dances in his eyes and he doesn’t give you time to answer before slinging you over this shoulder. Your giggles echo down the hallway as he carries you and he kicks open the bedroom door before setting you down on the bed. You scoot back and stare up at him with an expectant glance.

“Alright, sweetheart,” he says with a grin, “My turn.”

[theotherbuckley]

Tommy’s dad dies on a Monday.

He checks his emails on a Wednesday. There’s an email from his aunt. It’s only a few sentences. She was always very succinct and to the point.

His dad is dead.

It was a heart attack.

Bastard didn’t even suffer. 

He stares at his laptop screen until the words start to blur together. For an hour, he just sits there, looking at his computer but not really seeing anything at all. His coffee is long since cold. He never even took a sip. 

His mind feels empty, like there’s this fog that’s settled inside, clouding over his thoughts. He’s stuck. His brain doesn’t know how to process this, and neither does his body.

So he stays frozen. Just staring.

He doesn’t notice the time until he feels large arms wrap around him from behind.

“Tommy?” Evan asks. It doesn’t sound like the first time he’s spoken.

“I—“ The words are stuck in his throat. 

Tommy turns around from his chair, blinking a few times, until he manages to say, “My dad died.”

“Are you okay?”

That’s all it takes for Tommy to break.

He opens his mouth, closes. Shakes his head. 

And he just—

Cries.

Full body-wracking sobs overcome his body as he slumps into Evan’s open arms. He shakes, tears streaming down his cheeks as he burrows his face into his boyfriend’s neck. He’s getting snot and tears all over Evan’s shirt but his boyfriend doesn’t complain, just squeezes him tighter as he continues to be overwhelmed by his emotions.

He doesn’t even know why he’s crying. He just can’t seem to stop. 

He cries and trembles in Evan’s arms until he’s run out of tears left to shed. Evan murmurs sweet nothings into his ear, holding him tight and never letting go. 

“I’ve got you. I'm here,” Evan whispers in his ear. 

He feels like he’s run a marathon by the time he’s calmed down enough to pull back from Evan. His hands shake as he wipes the tears from his eyes, Evan’s own warm hands coming to hold his. 

“I don’t— I don’t even know why I’m cry—crying,” Tommy hiccups. He’s sure he must look a mess, red-faced and covered in tears.

Evan gives me a soft look, a small comforting smile on his face as he presses a kiss to Tommy’s forehead.

“You lost your dad. You’re allowed to cry,” Evan says kindly.

Tommy just shakes his head. “But he wasn’t— he wasn’t good.” He has an awful, vile human who never gave two shits about him. Only cared about him being a man, enlisting, stepping up. He doesn't understand why his chest still aches like his loss matters. It doesn't. It doesn't.

Evan wraps his arms around Tommy. He’s practically sitting on him, but Tommy doesn’t mind. Not when it’s Evan.

“He— He was a big part of your life, Tommy,” Evan says, running his fingers through Tommy’s hair. “And now he’s not. You’re allowed to be upset.”

Tommy just nods, collapsing back into Evan, who rubs gentle circles on his back in comfort, pressing a kiss to his forehead. He lets his boyfriend soothe his pain with his touch. He wishes it didn't hurt in the first place. Still doesn't understand why it does. He hated that piece of shit.

He's glad he's dead.

He hiccups as another tear makes it's way down his cheek. Evan squeezes tighter.

“Is there a funeral?” Evan asks softly.

Tommy almost laughs. “There’s no one who cares enough to give him one. He doesn’t even deserve one.”

“But you do,” Evan says sincerely.

That gets Tommy to look up, eyebrows raised in question.

“You deserve to have the closure,” Evan continues. “It’s a lot better than trying to pretend you’re alright when you're not. Trust me.”

“You lost someone?” Tommy asks. Evan’s never talked about it, but maybe—

“No, no. I just know what it feels like to— to bottle your emotions up when it comes to the people who are supposed to love you.”

“I’ll speak to my aunt about a funeral,” Tommy says. Evan gives him a soft smile and a chaste kiss to his lips before pulling him close again, Tommy wasting no time to burrow into the corner of Buck’s neck, soaking up the comfort of his boyfriend.

“I love you,” he murmurs into his shoulder.

“I love you,” Evan repeats back. 

[maskedbyghost]

idk why but i keep thinking about that book 'the hating game' and how you and simon share an office on the base. you’re both lieutenants, top of your game, but forced to work together because price picked you two as his best, and you hate each other.

i mean, hate hate.

constant fights, never agreeing on anything important, always butting heads. you’re both so damn hot-headed, it drives you fucking crazy how much he frustrates you. so for months, you're stuck like this—sitting across from each other doing paperwork, prepping for missions, always competing, trying to one-up the other.

then one day, you overhear someone saying how simon rarely shows his face to anyone, and you’re thrown off because… he always takes his mask off in the office with you. wouldn’t he hide his face from his biggest enemy?

but, hey, you’re not complaining. you’ve gotten used to reading his every expression—especially that look of pure annoyance when you say something snarky, and he runs a hand through his hair, and… oh.

you start wondering what else he'd do with his hands, like how he’d grip your hair if you were on your knees, hands wrapped around his d—wait, what? no no no, you hate him. sure, he looks ridiculously good, but that’s not the point. he drives you insane.

but the thing is, simon’s not doing any better.

he loves being in the room with you, hearing your voice, even when you're bickering about something he said. watching your cheeks flush when you get mad… yeah, he’s obsessed, but he’s convinced you’d rip him apart if he ever acted on it.

and then, after months of this push and pull, it all breaks one night. you're arguing about something stupid again, standing way too close, and suddenly, he snaps. his hand is on your neck, and he’s kissing you. hard. expecting the worst from you. but instead, your arms wrap around his neck, slowly, like it's second nature, pulling him even closer until there's no space left between you, the heat of his body sinking into yours, and you can feel the roughness of his breath against your lips, as if you’ve both been waiting for this moment, for this closeness, all along.

---------------------------------------------------------

should i make this longer maybee?

---------------------------------------------------------

@daydreamerwoah

[m454d1e]

cuddling with the haikyuu boys ! ushijima , suna , sakusa , hinata , oikawa

incl post timeskip and pre time skip , oikawa's one is a tadbit sad , gender neutral reader (except the last of ushijima headcannons where reader is pregnant but everything else is gn)

ushijima wakatoshi °˖➴જ⁀➴‎‎‎‎ ㅤㅤㅤ‎‎‎‎‎‎‎chronic big spoon

⋆ he loves big spooning so much ; especially after finding looking at you face to face a little bit awkward when cuddling

⋆ in the early relationship stage he didn’t touch you often, so cuddling sort of opened that gateway for him

⋆ even then, he loves feeling your head against his chest while it beats embarrassingly fast against your ears

⋆ he’s not opposed to being the little spoon, but once he’s back from practice you’d likely be asleep by then, so it’s easiest to just slide into bed from the back like so.

⋆ before he realises that you like the feeling of being squished he’s probably a bit concerned that he’s holding you too tight

⋆ post time skip he doesn’t care as much and just squeezes you tightly until you tell him to stop

⋆ he’s the sweetest, he only started cuddling for you but then continued because he fell in love with the way he could bury his nose against you while palming at your soft skin.

⋆ if you do decide to have babies then he likes running his hands against your pregnant stomach and feeling the baby kick and squirm against his large, rough hands.

⋆˙⟡ —

ushijima doesn’t necessarily convey his affection through physical touch, he’d much rather tell you how he adored you straight to your face with no miscommunication, that was just how he functioned. but while your relationship developed overtime, he would start to notice how often you’d cling onto his arm, or during movie nights at his dorm you’d tuck yourself under his bicep, so he started to worry that he wasn’t providing for you enough in a physically affectionate manner.

the first night you stayed at his dorm was when tendou was at his family home for the weekend, so he decided to invite you over for the night. your laptop’s perched on his lap and you’re laying against his hard chest, the both of you eagerly watching your favourite movie. around the halfway point, ushijima takes note of the intimacy between the two characters, how their bodies would intertwine on the soft mattress, and he yearned to embrace you like that too.

his olive eyes flicker down to your figure, how through your blue light glasses, you’d watch the film with fascination in your eyes, you’ve watched this film hundreds of times so to ushijima this long-standing attachment was quite strange. he raked his thick fingers through your hair, gently running them through each strand before catching your attention, looking up at him curiously you ask him what’s up.

“oh, nothing,” the vibrations of his thick voice ripples through the air as he pulls you a bit closer, “i’ve never held someone like that before.” he gestures to the screen. 

you smile up at him, gently closing the laptop and carefully laying it on the ground, 

“okay, we can try now!” you say happily, sliding your arms around him and pressing a chaste kiss to his lips, which he’d happily return.

soon enough, ushijima found his head nestled against your ear with his arms wrapped tightly around your waist, your back pressed up against his chest as he held you tight. 

“i’m quite fond of this.” he murmurs in your ear, pressing his thin lips against the skin of your neck.

he shut his eyes tight, inhaling your sweet scent while he felt himself slowly drift off to sleep, finding it a little bit easier with you curled up in his arms.

suna rintaro °˖➴જ⁀➴ ㅤㅤㅤbear hugger

⋆ even in a non-cuddling sense, suna loves wrapping his arms around you and making you feel small in his embrace

⋆ even in the early relationship stage, he’d be pulling you into his arms and pressing kisses against your neck while you giggle

⋆ and he does it everywhere, he’s a big fan of pda.

⋆ when you’re cuddling, he likes laying right on top of you with his arms wrapped around your waist, your head buried in his neck while he rubs your neck

⋆ he’s so touchy its insatiable, he’d always have his arm around your waist ready to pull you into his arms

⋆ after a long day of work all he needs is to be wrapped up in your arms, squishing against your shoulders and breathing in the accords of his favourite perfume before he’s easily knocked out for hours.

⋆ sometimes it gets so bad that you literally can’t breathe so you have to roll him off your body and he’d pout about it for a couple of days

⋆ he likes laying his head on your chest too, so he can listen to your heartbeat as it lulls him to sleep

⋆˙⟡ —

suna felt all the stress upon his shoulders, head slouched down as he attempted to type the password into the apartment door before it opens gently before him and he perks up immediately at the sight of you in your pink flannel pajamas. you’re embraced by his sweaty body, and he’s pressing kisses against your neck as he uses his foot to kick the door shut, lifting you into his toned arms and carrying you to the bedroom.

“missed you so, so much.” he murmured between pecks, his voice muffled by the warm skin of your nape.

“go have a shower rinnie, you smell like sweat.” you huff, sitting up on the bed as you tried to push him off you, he pouts before pressing a soft kiss on your cheek, standing up to strip his shirt and walk into the bathroom. in your moments of solitude, you reach for the book on your nightstand and work through it, encapsulated in each page, not even realising when rintarou exits the bathroom. 

he gently takes the book out of your hands, placing the bookmark between the pages fold and leaving it on the nightstand, pressing another kiss to your lips as he slides into the bed. 

“i missed you soo much.” rintarou mutters as he lays next to you, pulling you into his warm arms as he snuggles into your neck, “lemme lie on you, pleasee.” he begs, and you look at him with a sidelong glance.

“just wait a bit, we can cuddle like that right before we go to sleep.” you hum, looking over at him and pressing a soft kiss to his forehead, making him melt into the soft mattress with a dorky smile.

“i love you.” he’d murmur, pulling you tight against his chest and capturing your lips in a soft, chaste kiss. 

“i love you too.” your voice is muffled against his lips, but he still smiles against you, nuzzling his head against your cheek while your arms move to wrap around him tight.

suna takes this as initiative to lay right on top of you, your head nestled against his chest as his arms snake around your upper torso, squeezing you tight as he knocks the wind out of your chest. he lets a deep sigh of relief escape him, holding you close as he falls into deep tranquil.

sakusa kiyoomi °˖➴જ⁀➴ ㅤㅤㅤaddicted to your warmth

⋆ he hated the idea of sleeping in the same bed as you during your early relationship stage

⋆ but a couple months into your relationship he starts getting used to your warm body wrapped up in his sheets

⋆ soon enough he’s addicted to your warmth, always recaching out for you in bed so at least one part of your bodies are touching

⋆ at first it’s more that you’d sleep back to back, so he could still soak up your warmth without being entirely in your warms

⋆ but as your relationship progresses he starts getting used to the idea of placing his hand on your face while you sleep

⋆ he faces you while you sleep so he can watch you during the late hours of the night

⋆ sakusa values his sleep, but he definitely used to be an insomniac before you started dating

⋆ having your warmth next to him helped, it lulled him to sleep with ease.

⋆ he likes draping an arm over you in the winter, on good nights he’ll pull you into his arms and lean against your neck

⋆ in the summer he’ll stay away from you though, you overheat frequently and he prefers staying cold in bed.

⋆˙⟡ —

it’s so cold.

sakusa’s shivering on his side of the bed, the thick covers of this hotel bed not keeping him warm like the ones at home do. he pulls the sleeves of his flannel shirt down, trying to cover him whole as he looks outside, the snow gracefully falling to the ground as he contemplates his misery. he looks over at your sleeping body, dressed merely in his sweatshirt and pants as you slept soundly, clutching onto your pillow tight. he’s jealous, he wants to be able to sleep so calmly like that as well, but of course the cold weather had to bar him from that.

sakusa hesitantly shifts closer to your side of the bed, and he’s temporarily shocked by the warmth which radiated off your soft body, but he shouldn’t be surprised, you were always warm to the touch. a hint of guilt hits him when he notices you stirring awake, rubbing your eyes before they flicker open to look at him.

“is something wrong, kiyoomi?” you ask, the tiredness evident in your voice as you look up at him with soft, sleepy eyes. he shook his head, gently placing his hand on your cheek and gently caressing the smooth skin, smiling softly.

“can’t sleep, it’s cold.” he explains, shifting closer to you.

“wanna try this?” you sit up and wrap your arms around his waist, letting him have the time to pull out, but instead he melts into your embrace, holding you tight as you fall onto the bed from his weight.

“thank you.” he whispers against your neck, seemingly addicted at the way your soft body would wrap around his. sakusa would lay his ear against your pulsating heart, the steady rhythm calming himself as he soaked up all the warmth you’d offer him, occasionally pawing against your soft skin as he watched you fall asleep once again.

sakusa inhales your soft scent, and he realises that he’s never held you so intimately before. he wondered if you noticed that too, but it was likely naught. his dry fingers rubbed up and down your skin, feeling every bump and crevice before he himself fell into the deepest sleep he’s ever experienced.

hinata shoyo °˖➴જ⁀➴ ㅤㅤㅤlittle spoon :p

⋆ he likes being the little spoon because it makes him feel safe in your arms

⋆ he’s a very physically affectionate boy, so when you started dating he’d always want you clinging onto his arm

⋆ he thinks you smell really nice, so when you spoon him it always rubs off on him

⋆ it’s really grounding for him when you hold him 

⋆ when you were in brazil together and he started growing a bit more, it was difficult for you to hold him as such, which how you shifted into him laying on your chest with your arms draped around his neck

⋆ he thinks you’re heaven when you run your fingers through his hair.

⋆ sometimes if you’re sitting on the couch together hinata will casually lean against your lap as you scratch his head

⋆ when you’re not laying with him, he’ll clutch his pillows really tight and pretend that it’s you

⋆ he loves sleeping in your bed because it’s a lot softer than his futon

⋆ he’s such a loverboy - always wanting to cuddle and hold you in his arms

⋆ brazil hinata likes when you squish on his biceps………..

⋆ ok but when shoyo and natsu were a bit younger natsu would curl up near him and he felt like a very proud big brother

⋆˙⟡ —

hinata shoyo smells like the sunshine.

it didn’t matter how much bergamot scented soap he’d lather onto his skin twice a day, the smell of sea salt and sand were deeply engraved into his natural musk, and you wouldn’t have it any other way. you gently run your fingers down his arm, frowning of the remnants of the sand which would scrape at him during his time at the beach. 

“sho, what did i tell you about sunscreen?” you scold, voice quiet as you rub aloe vera gel on his tanned skin which glowed pink, dead skin rolling into little balls under your fingers and you groan in mild disgust.

“i always put it on at the start of the day, i swear!” he looks back at you, obviously in pain as his eyebrows knit together, “be gentle!” he whines, wincing as the soothing cream would sting his sensitive skin.

“this is the consequences of your actions.” you mutter in response, continuing to spread the cold gel across his shoulders and back, but you comply against your words, slowing your movements and massaging the aloe vera into his skin with care.

he groans and whines, but his hand reaches yours when you finish, and he’s gently pressing his lips against yours, gel from his nose rubbing off onto yours.

“i’m so tired.” he huffs, pulling an old shirt over his head, the fabric sticking to his skin uncomfortably. “hold onto me for a bit.” you nod, shifting behind him and letting him curl his back into your chest, you take his hands and rub small circles on his palm. 

“you’re so good to me baby.” he hums, bringing your hand up to his lips and pressing soft kisses against the skin. you smile against his nape, inhaling his spicy salty musk with your eyes closed, relaxed against the boys skin as you held him tight.

oikawa tooru °˖➴જ⁀➴ ㅤㅤㅤeager for your consolement

⋆ he’s also a very affectionate boy, even when you weren’t dating he’d ‘platonically’ pull you into his arms tight

⋆ so when you do confirm that you’re officially a couple, he’s more intimate in the ways that he’d hold you

⋆ his lips are glued onto your cheeks, he thinks those kisses are sweeter than the ones on your lips

⋆ when you cuddle, he’ll lay his head on your chest with his body off the side of yours

⋆ he likes feeling smaller in your embrace, even if he’s much larger

⋆ tooru likes looking up at you and telling you all about your day, letting you run your fingers through his thin strands of hair

⋆ he loves pda, because to him, you’re so gorgeous and he’s scared that someone will take you away

⋆ when you’re asleep and he’s on your chest, he likes reaching up and gently stringing your hair between his fingers

⋆ sometimes when he’s sad he likes curling up against your side as you console him

⋆ his love languages are a mix of everything, so when you’re the one being held, he’ll pull you close to his mouth so he can whisper how much you mean to him straight into your ear.

⋆ he also loves listening to music with you, so he’ll cuddle against your warmth while your record player spins in the background.

⋆ also films, he’s a big fan of watching all the films you love.

⋆˙⟡ —

he lets out sobs against the warmth of your chest, letting your arms gently cradle his head as you whisper affirmations into his ears.

“i’m so sorry.” he’d mutter repeatedly against your chest, “i’m so sorry i lost.” his tears wet the fabric of your shirt, you gently patted the expanse of his back, offering your physical affection as a means to calm him down.

"oh baby, you don't need to apologise" you hum, pressing your lips against his forehead and your nose brushes against his hair, temporarily stunning your senses with his sweet scent. but tooru felt weak, although, finding your words somewhat comforting as he’d look up at you, his eyes rimmed red and snot falling from his nose. you gently rub his cheek, pressing your lips against his scalp.

“but i lost? and i promised that i’d take everyone to nationals - and i didn’t.” his words were choked, spaced by sobs as he’d lay against your chest, your heart swelled with sorrow, chest tightening up as you witnessed tooru’s expression. even with his tear stained eyes and splotchy red face, he was more beautiful than you could’ve imagined.

“oh tooru,” you whisper against his skin, “everyone’s so proud of you regardless, if it wasn’t for your support, no one would’ve gotten here anyways.” you pull him closer to your upper body, burying your face into his hair as your fingers traced up and down his arm. “you’re a good player, and an even better captain. the sport is more than just winning, it’s like the relationships that blossom from it.” you try to explain, gently stroking his hair.

“you really think?” he asks hesitantly, letting himself be pulled closer as he shivers within your embrace.

“i know, baby, i know.”

against his red face and snotty nose, he lets out a small smile when he looks up at you, sitting up to wipe his nose with his sleeve.

“i really love you, yn.” he mutters, letting you embrace him as he cries, “i really think you’re the best thing thats ever happened to me.”

contradicting the situation, you let out a soft laugh, making him smile against the nape of your neck.

“i love you too, tooru.”

and with your arms wrapped around him tight, tooru knew that everything would be okay.

please like , reblog or follow if you enjoyed !!!

i think i mayhaps cooked with this one

sorry i was supposed to post this like yesterday night but i got distradcted playing dress to impress

maybe i wrote hinata in for one of my moots,,, mayhaps...

[iamgonnagetyouback]

𝟷𝚔 || 𝐇𝐈𝐆𝐇 𝐌𝐀𝐈𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐀𝐍𝐂𝐄

♡ ︎ꜱᴜᴍᴍᴀʀʏ: You were high maintenance and Mattheo loved maintaining you; but only on one condition.

♡ ︎ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢꜱ: None

♡ ︎ꜱʜɪᴘ: Mattheo Riddle x Reader

Mattheo Riddle is completely infatuated with you, his high-maintenance girlfriend who has him wrapped around her perfectly manicured finger. You live for pink, makeup, long nails, and every glamorous touch, and Mattheo? He adores it. The upkeep, the attention, the endless pampering—he loves treating you like the princess you are. He proudly carries your bags, ensures your makeup is perfectly stocked, and always knows exactly when it's time for a nail appointment.

But there's one rule. Mattheo's just as high maintenance in his own way, only in the form of your undivided attention and affection. The moment you stop pampering him—whether that’s running your fingers through his hair, spoiling him with sweet words, or letting him cling to you like a koala—he turns into the neediest boyfriend alive.

One morning, you’re sitting in front of your vanity, carefully applying lip gloss when Mattheo saunters in, his eyes immediately locking on you. His face falls slightly when you don’t greet him with your usual kiss.

“Why aren’t you paying attention to me?” he whines, crossing the room in two strides and resting his chin on your shoulder. “I’ve been waiting for my turn for ages.”

You laugh softly, twisting in your chair to face him. “Mattheo, I’m just doing my makeup. I’ll give you attention in a sec.”

But that doesn’t fly with him. Before you can finish, he’s scooping you up from the chair, plopping down on the bed with you tucked in his arms. He nuzzles his face into your neck, a dramatic sigh escaping his lips. “I don’t care about your makeup. I care about you.”

You grin, brushing a hand through his messy curls. “You’re being dramatic. And you act like I don’t give you enough attention, Matt."

"Because you don’t," he pouted dramatically. "You can’t just look this good and not let me have you all to myself. It's unfair."

You giggled and kissed his cheek, leaving a faint pink lipstick stain. "I’m almost done. What, you miss me already?"

"I always miss you," he mumbled.

“I need my pampering too,” he murmurs, holding you tighter. “I can’t function without it.”

You know his antics, but it’s still the cutest thing in the world. You lean down and place a soft kiss on his cheek. “Poor baby, did I neglect you?”

He nods, lips pouting in full force. “So much. I don’t know how I’m even surviving.”

You giggle, but comply immediately, peppering kisses across his face until he’s smiling lazily. “Better?”

“Almost,” he mumbles, pulling you even closer. “Don’t leave me.”

"I’m just going to meet up with some friends, Matt," you giggled, running your nails lightly through his hair. "I won’t be gone long."

He lifted his head, giving you a pout that was far too cute for someone who looked as dangerous as he did. "I don’t care. I’m coming with you."

You rolled your eyes, but you couldn’t deny how much you loved his clinginess. He always wanted to be near you, touching you, even when you were doing something as simple as getting ready. It was endearing, the way he never wanted to be without you.

"Fine," you said, pressing a soft kiss to his lips. "But only if you promise to behave."

"No promises," he grinned, holding you tighter. "But you’re stuck with me, princess."

And honestly, you wouldn’t have it any other way.

[homestylehughes]

bed chem.

pairing(s): quinn hughes x fem!reader

warning(s): fluff. mutual pinning. very slight slow burn. suggestive content. 18+.

wc: 1.5K

an: hi lovesss!!!! I present you with a new fic, finally. this song is loosely based off of "bed chem" by sabrina carpenter, and the one and only quinn hughes. this is one of my favorites, I'm really happy with how it turned out! I hope you all enjoy, like and reblog if you did :)

as always, much much love <3

He caught your attention in a room full of people, your eyes stuck to him like glue. Your eyes followed his every movement, watching him wordlessly from across the busy club. Watching how he interacted with the people around him, how his lips broke into a smile as he laughed at something someone said to him. 

He, whoever he was, was beautiful. From his hair, eyes, smile, everything. Not to mention how his white fitted shirt looked on him. The fit was so perfect, it almost looked like it was painted on him. You felt like a creep looking at him, but you couldn't help it. There was just something about him that was almost addictive? Something bad, but yet so so good. 

“Are you done staring at him like a creep, or are you gonna go over and say something?” your friend says besides you, snapping you out of daydream

“I wasn't looking..just observing” you say, clearing your throat, before taking a drink of the watered down cocktail in front of you in hopes to avert your gaze from the Greek god of a man in front of you. 

“Well..he and his friends just looked over here and pointed.” she giggles from besides you

“Shit. Are you joking? Youve got to be joking right?” you whisper-yell to her in a state of panic 

“Nope,” she says, popping the p.

“Oh god, yn they're coming over here now.” she says frantically 

“Oh my god” you say, moving to sit up straighter in your seat. Your eyes move to follow the very attractive man and his friends make their way over to you guys. 

“Shit he is hot, and so are his friends.” your friend gushes out besides you 

“Shut it, act normal, talk to me about something.” you say quickly, your eyes flickering to the men who are moving in closer. 

Your friend starts talking to you about something random, but you can't concentrate on her words. Your mind is locked in the man approaching, that you can't gather another thought about anything else, as you watch them in the corner of your eye. Just as they are about to reach the table, another large group of men cuts in front of them. Wrapping each of the men into hugs, yelling and smiling as they interact, with what you assume are their friends. 

“Youve got to be kidding me” she says, stopping mid sentence of her empty word ramble. 

“ well..thats, that i guess” you sign out, looking as the men pull each other to the bar in the opposite direction. 

“Guy in the white shirt is looking at you, look up look up.” she says slapping your arm 

Quickly reacting, pulling your head up. Your eyes find him quickly, as he looks back at you. Sending you a quick wink and smirk before he turns around following his friends. 

“Oh my gosh. Yn he so wants you” 

“I don't even know if i'll see him again”

“Never say never.” 

You giggle at her opsitism, before throwing the rest of your drink back, hopping out of your seat, moving to grabher hands pulling her towards the dance floor. 

“Come on! We came to have fun, right?” you shout at her, as you two giggle walking hand in hand to the dance floor. 

– 

After lots of fun, maybe too much fun and a few more drinks later. You finally make your way back to your hotel. You come back solo you might add, your friend being pulled away by a hot mysterious man who caught her attention. Leading her to follow him out of the club with a wide smile on her face. 

Sighing deeply as you stare at your shoes waiting for the elevator door to open, a few moments later a loud ding signals in the opening. Heading in quickly, and hitting your floor. Leaning your exposed back against the cool elevator door, the only thing on your mind is taking off your shoes, and washing a somewhat disappointing night out away. 

Just as the elevator is about to close, you hear a man shouting to hold the door. Pushing yourself off the wall to hit the open button. The out of breath man quickly moves in, as you look up to ask him what floor he needs, you're face to face with, hot fitted white shirt man, who's staring at you with widened eyes. 

“What floor do you need?” you ask quietly, struggling to find your words.

“Um, 69 please, oh wait you've already pressed that.” The man finally speaks to you, his deep voice filling the now closed elevator. 

“You're the girl from the club tonight.” he says looking over at you from across the elevator. 

“And you're the guy” you say

“Felt you looking at me, the whole night” he says, his words causing a blush to rise to your cheeks as you look back down at your shoes. 

“Don't be embarrassed, i was looking too.” he continues 

“I saw” you spoke 

“Almost had you too” he says 

“Almost..” you repeat to him softly, your gaze flickering between his lips and eyes. 

“Well we’re here now” he replies 

“You have 9 floors to make something happen..” you trail off 

“Quinn. My names quinn” he says 

“Yn. my names yn” 

“Well yn i only need 2 floors to make this happen” quinn says, quickly making his way over to you. One of his hands meeting your hip as the other holding your face, pulling you into him, your lips connecting as one.

The motion happens so quickly you barely have time to register what your body is doing until you're kissing him back quickly. Your hands tangle themselves into his hair as you pull yourself into his body.

You two are so wrapped up into each other that you don't even realize the elevator has stopped, the door opening slowly. 

Quinn pulls back, his lips swollen as he looks down at you. “How was that for something yn?” he says, dropping his gaze down to you. 

“I think i might need you to show me a bit more” you whisper

“Oh really?” he says as he slowly pulls you out of the elevator. 

“Mhm” you mumble to him

“Lead the way” he says, dropping his hand from you, waiting on your next move. 

You take a second to take him in natural light. Everything about him is intoxicating, you need more. No matter the cost, or how bad of an idea it could be. You don't care, not right now. Before you can give it a second thought, you're pulling him by his hand by your room. Your steps are quick, your body hot with need. 

Reaching your room quickly, dropping Quinn's hand, as you start searching for your key card, you feel Quinn's hot body against yours. His lips finding your neck and his hands back on your hips as he pulls you back against him. Your movements began to halter as he began to get lost in his touch. 

“Quinn..you have to get off me for 30 seconds so i can open the door” 

“Mhm. I know, but I'm getting impatient. I've wanted you all night.” he says against your neck, his warm breath sending chills down your body. 

“You wanna know what i've thought about and what i'm thinking about right now? Hm?” he asks 

“Yes, yes tell me” you gasp out, your hands trying to move quickly, still in search of the key. 

“How the dress would look on the floor, how your body would look against mine. How youd look all fucked out for me in my bed” he says, his lips tight to your ear. 

Just as he finishes his sentence, your hands grasp the key card in your purse. Pulling it out quickly, and tapping it against the door aggressively, pushing the door open as soon as it buzzes open. 

Quinn moves quickly, pushing you in slamming the door, and before you know it his lips are against yours as if they never left. You're quick to turn him around, your hands moving against the buttons on his shirt as he hits the bed, pulling you on top of him; your lips never once leaving each other. 

“You're dangerous” quinn says pulling away from your lips 

“Why's that?” you ask, your hands still working to unbutton his shirt. 

“I've barely had any of you, and i dont think ill ever get enough” he says looking at you

“Who said you ever have to stop, we’re just getting started” you say while unbuttoning the last button on his shirt before pushing it off his shoulders. 

Quinn responds with a look and a small smirk and you know what that means.

[elliesgaythoughts]

toxic bbf!ellie pt2

angst & smut

a/n: now idk how i feel about this one but i kinda like it but i kinda don’t so idk yall can be the judge of this

warnings: long ahh fic, strap r! receiving, size kink, exhibitionist kink, squirting, use of mama ofc, use of doll and pretty girl, titty sucking, masturbation e!receiving.

jealousy coiled in the depths of ellies stomach as she watched the pale hand skim the outside of your bare thigh.

it was just the three of you in the house. ellie, with her auburn hair pulled back into a messy bun as she sat manspread. her palm rested against her stomach that was twisting with guilt and jealousy as she watched the pair of you from across the living room in her single chair. 

she came over to meet with your brother but he wasn’t back from football practice yet so she thought she may aswell show up early and fuck you for a while until he arrives.

her plans took a sudden turn for the worse when you answered the door to her with an abby anderson standing behind you with low eyes and arms wrapped around your torso.

“you can wait in the living room ellie” you rolled your eyes dismissively and slammed the door behind her..

you sensed the way ellies green eyes bore into your cleavage that peeked above your tight vest. it ignited a flame in you as you watched jealousy eat away at her from the corner of your peripheral as abbys firm hand massaged the plush of your thigh as she watched the tv mindlessly.

you invited the muscular blonde over tonight knowing that ellie would be there. you needed someone to make you feel better after all ellie had put you through and you knew the girl that ellie has hated since childhood was just the one you needed.

abby lightly tapped your outer thigh signalling you to climb onto her lap. your ass peeked out of the bottom of your tiny little shorts, giving ellie the perfect view as abbys hand slid higher and higher up your thigh, her thumb lightly brushing your clit caused your breath you to hitch as she giggled at your reactions to her touch as you blushed stupidly.

ellie coughed to clear her throat, catching both of your attention before she spoke with sarcasm dripping in her tone “maybe you two may want to go upstairs” she said, knowing what was about to happen and hating how the sight of your face blushed and your nipples poking through your tiny vest had her clit throbbing in her jeans. even though it was because of another woman she still took in the sight of you like she earned it. her mind ran wild with thoughts of how it could’ve been her making a mess of you on that sofa and it ate away at her.

“why?” you groaned, not even sparing ellie a glance as you kissed at the side of abbys neck, licking up the vein that appeared there as she strained a moan at the feeling of you grinding against her belt buckle.

ellies pussy was fucking beating as she resisted the urge to buck her hips up against nothing. her nails dug into the armrest of her chair as the plush of her lips separated to speak “because you both are being whores”

you could hear the irritation in her voice and you couldn’t help but giggle at how easily you got under her skin before you sighed softly at her “oh ellie you can leave whenever you want” you teased. the room went silent as you waited for her to leave, knowing she wouldn’t.

you couldn’t help the smile that played on your lips as you softly gripped abbys throat and looked into her baby blue eyes “you don’t mind putting on a show, do you?” her hands gripped your hips tightly “i don’t give a fuck about that bitch.”

usually ellie would be on her feet at the sound of somebody talking shit about her but right now her mind was at other places while her ears rang, not hearing the “thank you, daddy” that rolled off of your tongue before you gave abby a sloppy kiss.

her tongue rolled against yours. almost as slow as your hips moved back and forth against the bulge in her pants as you grew wetter at the feeling of this girl being completely lost in lust over you and the thrill of putting on a such a show for ellie.

the longer you made out the more frantic abby became over you as her hands wondered every curve of your body, skimming the goosebumps on your thighs, cupping your breasts and toying with your nipples before lifting your vest over your head and tossing it in ellies direction before instantly latching her mouth onto your perky tits, making a moan leave your throat as you gripped the back of her head “mhm just like that mama.” you groaned out.

after a few minutes of abby moaning against your tits pathetically you gripped her plait and pulled her hair back, making yet another whine leave the girl. she was fucking crazy over you already. this felt so much better than whatever it was ellie had going on.

abbys eyes met ellies as your hands trailed down abbys chest, skimming the material of her nike sports bra, down her firm abs and finally to her buckle as you trailed your false nail over the cute little design on it “may i?” “uh huh” abby hummed as her hips thrusted up gently against you.

you undone her belt and pulled her zipper down as the pink silicone sprung out of her trousers “fuck” you spoke to yourself as you took in the size of her. it was bigger than anything you’ve ever had before but that only excited you more as she gripped it and tapped it against your pajama covered pussy “you think you can handle it for me baby?”

butterflies danced in your tummy as your face heated up “mhm” you spoke shyly but to be honest with yourself you weren’t to sure but you knew you weren’t going to go down without a fight…

your head was spinning as the tip of her strap stretched you out and your chest grew hot “oh fuck” you whispered as your breath left your body and your eyes fluttered close as you gripped her shoulders and lowered yourself onto her. the burn from the stretch was addictive as your eyes teared up and your pants turned into zoned out whines “oh my god” you strained out to say as two pairs of eyes watched how drunk you became because of abbys dick.

ellies hand fell against her crotch as she closed her eyes and listened to the sultry sounds that left you. she wore a furrow on her forehead as her fingertip pressed against her clit while she heaved a breath through her lips and rocked her fingertip back and forth as her thighs spread farther apart.

a broken moan left you as you took in the last of abby.

your eyes were still closed as you steadied your breathing. your arms wrapped around her neck, loving the feeling of her back muscles under your fingertips and her dick taking up more room inside you than you had to offer.

you opened your heavy eyelids as your eyes met abbys. sweet whines left you as you swayed your hips, opening yourself up as she reached down and massaged your clit back and forth. your movements were in sync with hers as you got lost in her gaze.

ellie watched your back arch to reveal your soaked pussy that swallowed abby so greedily. ellie fucking hated this. her fingers sped up as she rubbed her pussy frantically over her trousers as her other hand clasped firmly over her mouth, catching a moan against her palm.

you loved the sound of the muffled moans from behind you mixing with yours as your eyes rolled to the back of your head. abbys dick hit deep inside you with every bounce of your hips down onto her as you gasped for breath and moaned curses to yourself.

you leaned back and held yourself up with one of your hands against her knee while the other reached down and played with your clit as you gave the tall blonde the image of her cock nestled inside you as you released a pornographic moan as your head fell back and your eyes landed onto ellies.

almost instantly all of the freckled girls pride disappeared before your eyes as her breath hitched and she shamelessly humped her hand right in front of you “ohfuck” she rushed out as she felt her pussy leak through her trousers. her hips stuttered and with the way her mouth fell open you already knew she was done for as you quickly turned your attention back onto abby.

you gripped her chin to steady yourself as your hips rolled up, keeping just her tip inside you as you circled your waist and slammed yourself back down against her over and over. the harness bumping her clit had her bucking her hips aimlessly as you leaned over her, looking into her glossy eyes as tears of ecstasy threatened to spill “so pretty doll” you cooed.

abby nodded as her pretty face scrunched up in pleasure and she landed a harsh smack to your asscheek and pulled you closer as she grinded against the base of her harness, grinding her dick into you farther as she whined in response to you licking the side of her ear and whispering “cum for me.”

somehow ellie must have thought you were talking to her because right after abbys eyes rolled to the back of her skull ellies voice cracked with a “fuck you” as you noticed the all too familiar final low groan of her reaching her orgasm.

both of the girls laid there twitching as their orgasms pulsed through them while they watched you rub your clit softly and your eyes flutter close. “damn” you hummed as your pussy squeezed her dick and your forehead pressed against abbys while she watched you in awe as your legs shook and stomach contracted as your orgasm creeped closer “im gonna cum. c-can i cum?” you begged shakily.

“y-yeah cum for me baby” abby stuttered out. her big hand reached forward and gripped your both of your tits as has her mouth met your sensitive bud. her tongue rolled over your nipple before her cheeks hallowed and sucked a bruise onto to flesh, bringing you over the edge as you shook and moaned ellies name as you finally came, squirting all over abbys dick and lower stomach as your body convulsed and you lost basically all consciousness.

your eyes fell closed. you felt pure ecstasy as your vision went white and your ears rang. all you could hear was the sound of your own breath’s steadying and ellies little snicker in abbys direction as she realised the hold she continued to have over you.

ellie stood on wobbly legs and ran her fingers through her messy auburn hair  that fell out of her bun.

she spoke down to abby “clean her up for me.” as a sick laugh left her and she walked out of the room, leaving you and abby in silence as everything started to come back to you. fuck. why the fuck did you say that.

your forehead left abbys shoulder and your eyes met hers. guilt coursed through you when you saw her eyes well with tears and your gut twisted as her head dipped “uh l-let me help you get cleaned up” she barely whispered.

“babe-” your voice cracked as you tried to speak while you lifted her chin.

tears spilled over your eyes and ran down your cheeks as you sat there speechless.

“it’s okay” abby sighed through her lips.

“baby she’s nothing to me” you rushed out.

her words were barely above a whisper at this point as she pulled her shirt back on and guided you off of her gently. leaving you on the sofa as she stood over you. she jumped slightly as she heard the front door slam and ellies truck start in the driveway.

“don’t fucking lie to me” and just like that abby left you too. leaving you in puddle of your own cum and guilt.

you hated how you felt. your body convulsed as you curled up into a ball and sobbed into your palms as snot ran down your nose. you felt like you were about to fucking puke as you heard someone pull out of the driveway.

you ran out of your front door hoping to see abby but your blood started to boil at the sight of ellie rolling a joint in the front of her truck.

“what the fuck ellie?!” you yelled.

she rolled her window down and tilted her head for you to come closer as you walked towards her “what?! what the fuck do you want?”

“aye calm down mama. it’s not my fault you had to think of me to cum with that bitch”

you started to giggle as tears fell from your eyes again you felt like you were going insane. “what the actual fuck?” you asked throwing your arms out to the side “what the fuck is wrong with you?”

she shrugged her shoulders as she took a hit and blew the smoke towards your face making you break out coughing as you waved the cloud away.

“get the fuck out of my driveway ellie” she took a deep breath “nah. im good” you pushed her through the space in her window “get the fuck out!”

ellie ignored you entirely “here take a hit princess. you really need to calm down” you ripped the joint from her hand and tossed it down onto the ground “fuck you ellie”

ellie simply rolled her eyes and turned the radio up before muttering “psycho bitch” under her breath and pulling out of the driveway, leaving you standing there in front of your fucking neighbours with your hair a mess and tears falling for the what felt like hundredth time tonight as your brother pulled up against the curb.

@williamellieslilho @yourelliewillms @moonalumi @pascals-doll @infiniteinquiries @aouiaa @radioheadfan699 @lmaoo-spiderman @quinnister @cattjull

[verstxppen33]

this wasn't meant to happen

summary: oops, you left your diary at his house... | autumn special!

genre: a sprinkle of fluff

warnings: use of y/n

pairing: lando norris x reader // friends to lovers

a/n: super cliché, i know, i know

The raindrops dropped gently against your window, creating a soothing sound. As soothing as it was, it didn't really comfort your anxiousness of your diary being gone. You rummaged through everything and everywhere, even in the bathroom. But it was nowhere to be found.

Unless you've taken it to Lando's house...you took it to Lando's house?!

Meanwhile, Lando found a scarlet-coloured notebook on his bedside table. Out of curiosity, he picked it up and opened it.

"Dear Diary,

Today, I had to take care of a drunk Lando. He kept mumbling about me being so precious and pretty? I didn't quite take it seriously, but the way he spoke was just too affectionate. Not to mention, he was very clingy too."

Lando's eyes shot wide open, as he remembered the morning after "the incident". It was your diary. He quickly shut the diary, a slight blush on his cheeks. He didn't want to invade your privacy, even if all of your thoughts and feelings could just be opened right here and now. It'd be a bad thing to do, right?

He resisted the urge only for a few minutes, letting out a slight giggle and opening up the book and sliding to the next page. He looked around his bedroom like if someone was watching him, then sitting against his headboard and reading curiously.

"Hey there,

Something's going on with my mind, and I don't even have the energy to write anything. Quick and short, I might be in love? With Lando, perhaps? I have no idea. He's just too cute! It's wrong to fall in love with my bestfriend, isn't it? Nevertheless, I have some things to do:"

What? In love? Lando stopped immediately stopped reading. He didn't really care about the other pages now, definitely not your To-do list.

He silently cursed himself for invading your privacy like that and letting his curiosity win over. He closed the book and thought about giving it back to you.

Still in slight panic, you were drinking a cup of tea, leaning against the countertop, wondering where your damn diary was. You almost never wrote into it, but it still felt so damn important. The rain already stopped pouring, leaving an earthy smell in the crisp of the autumn air.

A ring on your doorbell could be heard and you put your cup of tea down, wondering who would it be. As you opened the door, you smiled at Lando's sight, but as your gaze darted over to the scarlet notebook he was holding—your diary, your smile faltered.

"I think it was yours." Lando spoke up sheepishly, holding the diary out for you to take. You rapidly take it from his hands.

"Did...Did you read it?" you ask nervously, even though you had no idea what was in it anymore, since the last time you wrote in it was months ago.

"Maybe, y/n, Maybe." he responded with a faint smile. "I got too curious. And I've think I've read enough." You raised an eyebrow. Was that a good or a bad thing? What the hell did you write into that notebook?

"What did you see, exactly?" you asked curiously, leaning into him unconsciously.

"You're in love with me." Lando responded bluntly with a slight chuckle, noticing your cheeks heating up immediately. "No, it's fine. It's fine. I maybe I am too, and I'm maybe just figuring it out."

Without hesitation, you wrapped your arms around him, pulling him into a hug. He responded to it quickly and wrapping his arms around you as well, grinning widely. He gently lifted his hand to run through the strands of your hair, his hand slightly cold from the autumn breeze.

You two have a lot to figure out.

[bookwormjust]

Gifts for a new family (established relationship with Azriel)

As you walk through the lively streets of Velaris, the city sparkles with the magic of the approaching Solstice. Snow gently falls, dusting your dark curls as you move from stall to stall, gathering thoughtful gifts for each person you hold dear. The vibrant energy of the city surrounds you—laughter, chatter, and music drifting through the air—but you’re focused, determined to find the perfect gift for each individual.

The Archeron sisters, your dearest friends, are at the top of your list. For Nesta, something elegant but practical—a sword charm, small yet intricately carved, reminding her of strength and grace. For Elain, a collection of rare seeds wrapped in delicate ribbon, the kind that will bloom into the most beautiful flowers in the gardens she adores.

Then, there’s Lucien. The idea of him being alone during Solstice tugs at your heart, especially with Elain’s rejection lingering in the air. No one seems to have thought of buying him anything, but you do. After a few moments of wandering, your eyes fall on a beautifully bound book on rare herbs and healing remedies—a subtle but kind offering, something that speaks to his knowledge and appreciation of the natural world. You smile softly, hoping it will be a small comfort to him.

And for Azriel—your shadowsinger. Your heart flutters as you think of him, the way his shadows dance around him like they know you. You’ve spent hours pondering the perfect gift, wanting to show him how much you care, how much he means to you. You finally settle on something simple yet deeply personal—a custom-made leather sheath for Truth-Teller, engraved with symbols of protection and strength, paired with a small silver pendant representing hope, something light for him to carry, always close to his heart.

Azriel’s mother, though you’ve never met her, is also on your mind. After all, she’s an important part of him, and you want to honor that. In a small shop tucked away in a quieter corner of the city, you find a delicate silver bracelet adorned with small, shimmering crystals that catch the light just right. It’s a token of kindness and respect, a gesture to show you’re thinking of her even before your paths have crossed.

With your arms full of gifts, you make your way through the bustling streets, feeling the warmth of the season and the love you have for everyone in your heart.

As you continue through the vibrant streets of Velaris, you think about the gifts for Feyre, Rhysand, and Cassian, wanting each of them to feel the thought and care you’ve put into their Solstice presents.

For **Feyre**, you know how much she values art and expression, how it centers her and allows her to find peace in times of chaos. You eventually come across a beautiful set of high-quality paints from an artisan's stall. The pigments are vibrant, and there’s an array of colors Feyre could use to bring life to her next masterpiece. Alongside the paints, you pick up a small, hand-crafted sketchbook with a leather cover embossed with Velaris' iconic skyline, a symbol of home and her new beginnings.

For **Rhysand**, the High Lord of the Night Court and someone whose burdens are heavy, you want to offer him something that will remind him to find moments of rest and joy, despite his responsibilities. After wandering a bit longer, you find an elegant silver cuff with an intricate, celestial design that mirrors the night sky—the stars and moons delicately engraved into the metal. It's imbued with a subtle magic that encourages calm and relaxation when worn. A small but meaningful reminder that he, too, deserves peace.

And then, there’s **Cassian**. His boundless energy, laughter, and warrior spirit make you smile as you think of him. You search for something that speaks to his strength but also shows that you understand the heart beneath his brash exterior. After much deliberation, you find the perfect gift—a beautifully crafted pair of leather vambraces, sturdy but detailed with intricate patterns of wings and flame, symbolic of both his Illyrian heritage and the inner fire he carries. There’s also a bottle of rare Illyrian whiskey from one of his favorite distilleries, a little something extra to bring him joy on Solstice night.

With every gift now carefully chosen, you feel a warm sense of satisfaction. Each present carries a piece of you, a reflection of how much these people mean to you, and you can already imagine their reactions as they unwrap their gifts. The Solstice, after all, is about connection, love, and light—something you’re more than happy to share with those you call family.

As you stand on the bustling street, snowflakes dusting your shoulders and your arms full of carefully chosen gifts, the weight of the bags starts to pull at you. You smile softly, thinking how wonderful it would be to have Azriel here to help carry them—and to see him, of course. Through the bond, you can feel his steady, quiet presence, a warm pulse of calm beneath your skin.

You reach out gently, letting your thoughts drift toward him. *Azriel?* you send, a soft, playful nudge through the bond. *I may have gotten a bit carried away with the Solstice shopping...* You glance down at the many bags you're struggling to hold. *If you're not too busy, do you think you could come rescue me?*

For a moment, there's silence, then you feel a ripple of amusement from him, his presence wrapping around your mind like a comforting shadow.

*Rescue, hmm?* he responds, his voice a deep, smooth caress in your mind. *I’ll be there in a moment, love.*

A warmth floods your chest at his words. Within minutes, you catch sight of his familiar form gliding effortlessly through the crowd, his wings tucked close to avoid the bustling shoppers. As he approaches, his shadows swirling gently at his sides, his hazel eyes lock onto yours, a soft smile tugging at his lips.

Azriel takes in the sight of you, arms full of bags, and chuckles quietly. “Looks like you’ve been busy,” he says, his tone warm as he reaches for the bags, easily lifting them from your hands as if they weigh nothing. His fingers brush yours as he does, sending a shiver of warmth through you.

“Just a bit,” you reply, smiling up at him. “I didn’t realize how much I was carrying until I tried to walk back.”

Azriel shakes his head, his shadows whispering around you both as if they’re pleased to see you together. “Good thing I’m here, then,” he murmurs, his eyes softening as they linger on you. “Shall we?”

With his strong arm around you, you feel a sense of lightness, knowing that together you can face the chaotic streets and the busy holiday, each gift chosen with care and love for your new family. You walk side by side through Velaris, the snow falling softly around you, as Azriel quietly and effortlessly carries the weight that had become too much for you—just as he always does.

[hopelesslydevoted2paige]

Could you do Nika Mühl x short gf where the fem is at a bar with the team and stuff and fem gets lost and Nika can’t find her and it’s all fluff

EYE ON YOU || NIKA MÜHL

summary: nika has a hard time finding your short figure at the bar.

pairings: nika mühl x fem!reader

word count: 380

warnings: use of y/n like once or twice, cursing

authors notes: hi anon thanks for this request!! i lowkey hate the writing of this one but i hvent posted in so looong. i promise ill get back to writing again!

“Are you sure you’re okay with being here?” Nika held your hand and faced you. “Not tired or anything?”

You shake your head. “I’m fine, you deserve to celebrate. Now come on!” You drag her inside with a grin on your face.

The smile on her face widens as she follows you inside.

Once she spots her teammates, she immediately grabs a drink and engages in their conversation.

After a few minutes, you decide to get a drink at the bar and let her have fun with her teammates. Maybe it was also because you had no idea what they were talking about.

As you sipped on your drink and made your way back to Nika, someone tapped on your shoulder.

“Y/N?” You turned around, making eye contact with one of your roommates from college.

“Oh my god!” You laugh and pull her into a hug. “How have you been?”

She grins. “Good! What have you been up to lately?”

As you guys were catching up, Nika didn’t even seem to notice you were gone until one of her teammates pointed it out.

“What? She’s right-“ She turns to where you were seated and realizes that you were in fact, not there.

“I’m gonna go look for her. I’ll be back.” She places her drink down and stands up.

“Fuck, did I drink that much?” She mumbles to herself as she tried to look for your short figure.

Once she spots the top of your head, she sighs in relief and walks over to you.

“Y/N!” You turn to the direction of your girlfriend’s voice and wave at her.

“I’ll get going. Nice seeing you again!” Your friend smiles politely and makes her way back to the bar.

You lean into Nika’s touch as she wraps her arms around your body and places her head on your shoulder.

She kisses your neck and cheek. “I missed you.”

You giggle at how clingy she was. “Are you drunk?”

“Hmm, not yet.” She grins and kisses your neck again, not wanting to let go of you.

“Wanna go home?” She mumbles into your neck.

You nod. “Let’s go say bye to them.”

She whines like a little kid. “Do we have to?”

“Come on Nika, it’s rude not to.”

She sighs and gives in. “Okay fine.”

[urhoneycombwitch]

#17 from that prompt list about seeing the marks left on their partner and getting turned on has got me all kinds of 😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫 It feels roommate-eddie coded 👀 especially if they have their no-marks rule, but he just kinda loses control one night.

Then we torture him, walking around showing it off, telling him he can’t touch until he learns some self-control…okay, I’m gonna see myself out…

(most assuredly not @rebelfell sending two asks in a row)

foreword: Sarah I’m being so fr how are you literally in my brain… I had a blurb on this very topic set on the back burner bc I couldn’t find a place for it so here it is spruced up!!! (prompt 17 from this list)

cw: Reader has breasts, visible marks, no skin tone/color mentioned, a wee bit of choking kink, not full smut but mdni as always. oh yeah and biting 😈

___

You can feel the weight of Eddie’s eyes on your form, even as you pretend to be oblivious, leaning into the reflection of the standing mirror in the corner of his bedroom.

A few swipes of your pointer finger and your lipgloss is perfect; with a smack of your lips, you straighten up again, tugging the hem of your tee down to meet the band of your jeans. “Almost ready?”

The friendly smile you turn to give Eddie is met with a glower, his dark brows slanted, a death-grip on both knees where he sits simmering on his bed.

“Did you come in here solely to torture me, or do you have other plans up your vixen sleeves?”

Briefly, your eyes flick to the ceiling as you turn back to your reflection, fussing with your hair to keep your hands busy. “Only plan I got is attending our beloved friend’s barbecue. Which we should’ve left for, like, five minutes ago.”

Eddie huffs. In response, you sigh, landing just-left of condescending. “Not my fault you want to fuck me regardless of what I’m wearing. It’s jeans and a t-shirt, Eddie, I’m basically fit for a nunnery-”

There’s a whoosh of spiced air that wafts over first, chills cascading down your spine made worse as Eddie moves in. His left hand lands on your hip, rooting you to the carpet, while the other tracks up, skirting between the valley of your clothed breasts, your collarbone, your neck…

He takes your chin between thumb and forefinger, silver rings biting cold against your skin as your neck goes lax, baring a long, tantalizing stretch of it as Eddie tilts your face up and to the side.

His lips press to the sweet spot behind your ear, then follows the slope of your neck down, stopping at your shirt’s collar that hides the rest of your skin. From your hip, his hand lifts to pull the fabric aside, revealing a scattered canvas of suck marks and teeth imprints that grace the top of your shoulder.

“You really gonna show up with these? Make all our friends wonder who’s been marking you up?”

Eddie’s voice is low, but you’d be a fool to mistake it for softness.

Another shiver licks along the length of your body, and this time Eddie feels it; he presses in closer, hand sliding from your chin to hold just under your jaw as he meets your fluttering eyes in the mirror.

“What’re you gonna say, hm? If Robin asks where they came from? If Steve makes a jock-y comment? If you get teased?”

It’s not like you haven’t been in this situation before- attending events with mutual friends, having to act like your roommate hasn’t been the one checking all your boxes, making up excuses for being late or looking like someone had been using your body as their personal chew toy.

You’ve always made excuses- pretty seamless ones, if anyone’s counting. You don’t even try to squirm away when you respond, swallowing around the light pressure at your throat- “I’ll tell them what I always do. Blind date hookup, one night stand, my dentist’s cousin’s friend that I’ll never see again-”

Eddie bites into the soft flesh of your upper shoulder, hard, free arm wrapping around your midsection like a seatbelt while his other elbow digs into your chest, hand still wrapped around the column of your throat.

The air leaves your lungs in a rush, white-hot adrenaline surging with the sting of the bite, body stiffening against the restraints of Eddie’s arms as you grit out, “Asshole!”

It sounds too whiny and pleasure-soaked to cause any real alarm, Eddie grinning into the curve of your skin (bastard) before tsking, kissing over the thumping mark in partial apology. “Mm. I think you like it. I think you get off on parading our little secret around the poor folks who don’t know any better-”

“As if you don’t.” Eddie may be the one doing most of the biting but you’ve got the bark to match, glaring furiously at the reflection of his maddeningly-cool black-caramel gaze, even as the pressure on your windpipe increases with a minute flex of his palm.

“Yeah. Y’got me there, princess.” His eyes flit across your exposed skin, like he’s trying to memorize all the shades and colors of you combined with the wreckage of his handiwork. “Maybe you should cover up some more. So it’s just you ‘n me who knows what’s under here.”

The cotton collar snaps back into place, covering almost all the evidence (save for the tail end of a day-old scraped hickey). Eddie releases your jaw and takes a step back, the warmth leaving your body all at once, frozen where you stand until sense returns.

You clear your throat before speaking, irritation prickling as you set to fixing your hair again from where Eddie’s interruption had stalled. “Whatever. Fine. But I’m only changing because it’s gonna be cold later, and a long sleeve will be better- not because you told me to.”

“Fine.” Eddie adopts a neutral tone as he settles back onto the mattress with a bounce, tugging absently at the inseam of his dark jeans to relieve some of the mounting tightness. “Have it your way.”

“I will,” you snap back, turning from the mirror on a socked heel, pointing an accusatory finger at the boy on the bed. “And you better have your boots on by the time I’m changed.”

With that, you flounce from Eddie’s room in search of a more conservative neckline, while Eddie pouts and pretends to have the will to disobey you for all of five seconds.

And then he’s up, trudging to the bureau reluctantly to source a pair of socks while scheming for the perfect excuse to take you both on the extra-long route to the barbecue.

[adragonprinceswhore]

Rumours

Aemond Targaryen x (Ex)wife

Chapter VII: Landslide 🎼 Masterlist

Summary: Life goes on, even with a broken heart. Can you and Aemond move forward as bandmates, and not partners?

Warnings: 18+, AFAB reader, she/her pronouns, smut, feral lovemaking, P in V, toxic family dynamic, angst

Word count: 5000

A/N: As always, thank you so much for helping me my lovely Justine @theoneeyedprince 🩵

You dismiss another call from an unknown number with an annoyed flick of your finger and continue reading the document in front of you, eyes scanning over the deed poll forwarded to you by your solicitor.

Back to only carrying your maiden name. Targaryen officially removed.

It’s strange, like the marriage never happened.

You can’t decide if the thought is comforting or devastating. What would your life be like if you’d never met Aemond? No fervid passion. No ruinous heartache.

Last year, you couldn’t imagine a day when you wouldn’t be by his side. The man you called family. Your husband.

It’s official. You’re not family anymore.

Aemond’s voice is hushed as he speaks to his grandfather out on the balcony. He’d asked you to wait in the living room as he took the call, but not being by his side makes you feel restless.

You knew Otto would be ruthless; stooping impossibly low in order to make Aemond rethink his decision to leave the firm to pursue the band full time.

He finally emerges from the balcony, eyes half-lidded from exhaustion and face hollow. You shift your body slightly on the sofa, bringing your arms out so he can sit down next to you and fall into your embrace.

He does exactly that.

Your fingers come up to comb through his hair as you gently ask, “What did he say?”

Aemond just sighs as he moves to hide his face in the crook of your neck, arms leisurely placed around your waist.

You already know the answer.

That he was ashamed of having a quitter for a grandson. That Aemond will never amount to anything without his grandfather. That he’s too intelligent to think that pursuing a band could be a viable career path.

“What do I do now”, he mumbles defeatedly against your skin.

You tap his cheek lightly with the tip of your finger to make him look up at you.

Your eyes lock, and you place your hand on his cheek, gently stroking your thumb over his cheekbone,

“I am your family now, Aemond. We’ll always have each other”

You seal your reassurance with a kiss, and he eagerly reciprocates, pushing himself up to hover over you. You sink further into the sofa cushions as he surges down to kiss you again.

And again.

His kisses are slow and forceful, nearly sucking the soul out of you, leaving you breathless.

You soon find yourself in your shared bed, Aemond arms still wrapped tightly around you.

He lets his forehead down to rest against yours, and gazes into your eyes with an almost manic stare as he whispers,

“You’re my everything”

Each of his kisses, touches and whispers echo the devotion he feels for you, and warmth spreads like wildfire in your chest. This must be what it feels like to have someone love you entirely.

When the two of you become one, he rolls his hips against yours unhurriedly, sending pleasurable sparks through your body. It feels so, so good all you can do is moan, and you bring one hand up to grab a fistful of the hair at the back of his head, smashing his lips against yours in a messy kiss.

The only sound in the room, in the entire flat, is your matching breaths as you entwine pants and moans, lips never leaving the other’s.

You can hardly form a coherent thought as each of his thrusts makes his pelvis press against your clit,

“Don’t come yet”, he breathes into your mouth and kisses you again. You nod obediently.

He turns you so that you're on your side and lays down right behind you.

His large hand caresses the smooth skin of your thigh before grabbing your flesh, draping your leg over his hips as he begins to rut into you, a bit harsher than before.

You reply with a moan, letting him know how good he feels. Your hand searches his, still on your thigh, and you hold onto it for some stability as your body jolts forward with each harsh snap of his hips.

He goes harder, thrusting into you with his face pressed to you cheek, mumbling in your ear,

“Feels so fucking good, baby”

You moan again and move your face slightly to place another wet kiss on his cheek. They’re flustered, and the top of his ears are almost as red as his face. There’s a determined look in his eye that wasn’t there before, fiery in a stern way that doesn’t quite match your passionate love-making.

Using his arm for leverage, he lifts his body slightly, fucking you harder and harder. Your body gets pushed into the mattress and you find yourself on your stomach, one hand sneaking down to rub circles between your thighs. Aemond grunts as your walls clench down on his length, his face now shielded in your hair.

“I’d fucking die for you, you know”, he grits out, continuing his merciless pace.

Though your peak is nearing rapidly, rendering your brain nearly useless, you feel like something’s not right.

He sounds angry.

You turn your head from where it’s pushed into the mattress. He looks deranged; hair falling in front of his face and pupil blown wide, eyes filled with something you can’t really decipher.

But it’s not purely lust.

You call his name and bring your hand up to stroke his cheek, searching for his eyes. He keeps his gaze on your body, refusing to look up and meet your concerned frown.

“Aemond, are you okay?”

He dismissively grunts at your question, but slows down and finally meets your eyes.

Is he upset?

You’re not sure what’s going on, but you see that sadness reflect in his eyes; the same vulnerability that pops up whenever he feels threatened.

When he feels like he might lose you.

It’s usually obscured by anger, but now it seems too potent for him to suppress.

Staring into his seeing eye, you console him,

“I love you too, Aemond”

His expression falls.

His eyes shine with sadness.

It makes you sad too. If he’d only let you in on what makes him like this, you could help him; reassure him that whatever it is he fears won’t come true. But he doesn’t let you in.

And all you can do is watch.

The movement of his hips falters, and he says nothing, only breathes heavily.

The hand you have resting on his cheek slowly travels down to his chest, and you push him gently, gesturing for him to lay down on his back.

He follows your silent instructions without protest.

You turn around and move one of your legs so that you’re straddling him, hands resting on his chest. You slowly sink down on his cock, feeling whole again as it stretches you out in the most perfect way.

You moan and throw your head back, setting a slow, steady pace. Your hips move up and down, front and back.

Aemond’ s hands squeeze your hips harshly as he matches your rhythm, bucking up into you, losing himself to pleasure once more.

“You feel so good, baby”, you tell him, pace never faltering,

“No one could ever make me feel as good as you do”

He moans, one hand moving from your hip to your breast, cupping it and pinching your nipple between his fingers.

You sigh in pleasure and lay down on top of him, hands moving to cup his face. Your thumb strokes the marred side of his face, and you notice his gaze flickering away from yours. With a persistent grip, you push on the side of his face to make him look into your eyes again,

“You’re mine. And I’m yours”

Your lips meet his, and the kiss you thought would be slow and sweet turns heated as Aemond harshly grabs your body again, arms wrapping around your waist. He bucks up faster, fucking you harder, and with a startled, pleasure-drunk cry into his mouth, you abruptly peak. He follows with a loud groan, and moves his face to the crook of your neck again, just like earlier in the evening.

He holds your body securely against himself, and after a while, you try to pry his arms away and get off him, but he just mumbles into your neck,

“No, please”

You lay your head back down and close your eyes. Aemond is deadly silent, but you feel his breath against the skin over your collarbones, and something wet slides down the hollow of your neck.

Shut out and without being allowed in, you try to soothe him the only way you know how,

“I love you”

Two days have passed since your live show in Winterfell, and your phone won’t stop buzzing with incoming calls from unknown numbers.

You know they’re from journalists hoping to get a comment from you about the performance and your new song, the drama of it clearly being about your ex husband fuelling their thirst for gossip.

You’d spent the time since the concert in isolation, essentially doing nothing besides watching TV and eating takeaway in your hotel room.

You left Winterfell yesterday, boarding an overnight flight to Oldtown for your next show.

Today, you’ve finally found a reason to get out of the hotel room, planning on an afternoon looking around the vintage shops that are scattered around the narrow cobblestone streets of the quaint town.

You spend nearly an hour in your favourite boutique; a hidden gem a few minutes away from one of the more famous shopping streets of the city.

When you and Aemond were still together, you often came to Oldtown to visit his mum. Seeking some familiarity after her husband, Viserys Targaryen, passed away, she decided to move back to her hometown and hasn’t left since.

Alicent thrived in the town she grew up in, and whenever you came to visit, she eagerly showed you around all the places she’d frequented with her friends as a young girl.

Aemond, in turn, had shown you his favourite spots as well; bookstores, record shops, and organic coffee shops. You remember that one time he tried to convince you that the all-natural, no sugar brownie he’d ordered tastes just as good as the real deal. The face of betrayal you made as you took a large bite of the brick-flavoured monstrosity he’d dared call a brownie caused Aemond to release the most out-of-character belly laugh you’ve ever heard.

The memory still pulls your lips into a smile.

Stop it!

You try to shake your head in a feeble attempt to erase the train of thought. You need to make new memories here now.

Memories not tainted by him.

The last rays of sun for the day shine through the gaps between the ancient buildings cramped together on the streets when you decide to make your way back to the hotel. You pull out your phone to type in the address, still not familiar with navigating Oldtown on your own. The map on your phone shows that it’s a 15 minutes walk along the water to your destination, the perfectly idyllic end to a quite okay afternoon.

The sun quickly sets behind the stoney, worn houses surrounding you, and street lights illuminate your path as you walk, enjoying the calmness of the rather large city. Most people have returned home as darkness envelops the streets, leaving you alone on your way back.

You turn to walk down one of the sidestreets towards the hotel, when you suddenly feel a hand on your shoulder, pulling you out from your thoughts.

You abruptly stop and look back, catching the gaze of a man you’ve never seen before. He smiles at you in a way that makes the hairs at the back of your neck stand.

Still with his hand on your shoulder, he asks,

“Aren’t you the singer from Dragon Dreamers?”

“Yes”, you reply, unsure of how to assess him. There’s something in his intense stare that causes unease to chill you from within, yet you appear to be frozen in place.

You have been approached by fans on occasion before, but never alone in a somewhat unfamiliar city.

“I’m a huge fan. This might be a bit forward, but could I take you out to dinner?”

The hand he has placed on your shoulder squeezes your flesh over your jacket. His eyes are expectant, not blinking, and his voice is slightly strained, adding to your already uncomfortable state.

“Thank you, but I’m on my way back to my hotel, and-, I-, I need to get back”

Your answer is hurried and clumsy, and you hope the stranger will understand your discomfort and leave you alone.

“Oh, where are you staying?”

His eyes light up when he adds,

“I can walk with you”

“That’s kind of you, really, but not necessary, I’m okay. Thanks”

You try to hide the dismissal behind a veil of politeness, hoping he’ll take the hint and leave you alone.

You turn around to walk away, almost stumbling over your own feet as they move quickly over the cobblestoned streets.

The man doesn’t say anything else, but you notice him in the corner of your eyes. He starts walking in the same direction as you, only a few steps behind. He’s close enough to keep you within his sight, far away enough for it to seem innocent.

Is he going to hurt you?

Your heart beats faster.

Force himself into your hotel room?

You can hear your heart drumming in your ears, panic washing over you.

You don’t dare to look back at him, afraid that he might take it as another invitation to engage you in conversation, but he stays in the corner of your eye; like an ever-looming monster.

Luckily, there’s a small group of people walking ahead of you, oblivious to the fact that you’re being followed by an unknown man.

What would he do if they weren’t here?

Your steps grow quicker.

You glance at your phone; still a 10 minutes walk until you reach the hotel. The man behind you speeds up his footsteps as well, matching your pace while staying a few metres behind you.

You’re still too scared to look behind and properly face him. The small group of people walking ahead of you look like they might turn by a sidestreet at any moment, and fear pierces your heart at the thought.

Then you’d be alone. With him.

Maybe there’s a corner shop or something around here where you can pop in and spend enough time for him to get bored and leave?

Or maybe you can call someone to come and meet you?

Looking up at the buildings surrounding you, you realise that you recognise this street.

This is the area where Alicent lives.

Maybe he’s staying there?

Before you can think any further, your fingers press on the screen of your phone, going into settings, unblocking the familiar number before pressing the little telephone icon.

You hear two signals before the call is cancelled.

Fuck! Now he ignores your calls?

Your fingers move quickly as you type out,

“sorry someone’s following me I’m walking home please pick up”.

Barely a second passes before your phone buzzes.

“Hi! Yes, I’m just around the corner, can you see me yet?”, you ask in a way too hurried tone, ruining your own attempt at sounding casual.

Your voice is loud and high-pitched as you try to signal to the man behind you that someone’s coming to meet you.

Hopefully he’ll give up his pursuit and leave you alone.

“What street are you on?”

You can hear Aemond shuffling around on the other side; picking up keys and putting on his shoes.

You look up at one of the buildings, reading the name of the street,

“Yes, I’m standing on Gardener Avenue, where you told me to meet you”, you continue to babble, hoping the shadow behind you will finally stop following you as it appears you’re about to meet someone.

“Do you remember the way to the apartment?”

“Yes"

“Walk towards it, I’m coming out to meet you. Stay on the phone with me”

Aemond sounds calm, but there’s something urgent hiding in his stoicism.

“Yes”

The conversation dies out. You’re not really on small-talking terms, so trying to fill the silence between the two of you proves tricky. Despite the silence and awkwardness, the panic that had been sprinting within you seems to ease knowing that Aemond is there.

The group in front of you eventually turn down a sidestreet, and in the corner of your eye, you see the man behind you walk faster, coming closer.

Another wave of fear crashes over you, and your heart beats so fiercely your chest hurts.

Is Aemond coming?

Maybe if you pretend to see him, you’ll finally be left alone.

“I think I see you!”, you exclaim in vain, hoping the man behind you won’t see through your lie.

He’s right behind you, so close you can hear his laboured breaths. You can’t breathe.

But then, you see the familiar silhouette of a tall man with broad shoulders appear in quick and confident steps around a corner.

The unknown man behind you seems to retreat in an instant, but it doesn’t stop Aemond from calling out,

“Were you fucking following her?”

He’s gone before any further confrontation. Left is you and Aemond, alone on a dark, empty street.

Closing your eyes, you try to take a few deep breaths to ground yourself, still feeling unnerved from what had just happened.

Breathe in.

Hold three seconds.

Breathe out.

Hold three seconds.

“Are you okay?”

You don’t open your eyes.

You can’t look up at him, knowing that the flicker of hatred in his eye as he regards you will push you over the edge; push you to release the tears that have been waiting to spill since the strange man first laid his hand on your shoulder.

“Yeah, just need to get back to the hotel”, you mumble and inhale deeply once again to ground yourself.

It doesn’t help, not really.

The lump in your throat feels like a painful stone blocking your airflow.

You feel Aemond step closer to you, tenderly placing a hand on your elbow as he silently waits for you to continue.

You reluctantly open your eyes to look up at him, surprised to find his face reflect gentle understanding. The unexpected act of kindness pushes you over the edge and you let out a shaky breath as you feel the pent-up tears spill from your eyes,

“Sorry, it’s just-, I mean, nothing happened, but…”

One of your hands comes up to wipe away the tears that slide down your cheeks.

“Something could’ve happened”, Aemond finishes for you. He sounds like he usually does; stoic, but you can sense the hint of sympathy there.

“Sorry for calling you so suddenly, I shouldn’t have-, I didn’t know who to call…”

The words tumble out of your mouth ungracefully, matching the hurried pace of your still frightened heart.

“Don’t apologise”

He squeezes your elbow softly in reassurance,

“Come back to mum’s place with me”, he says, “It’s just around the corner”

“No, really, I’m fine! Nothing happened and I need to rest before tomorrow’s show”, you explain as more tears slide down your cheeks.

Fucking stop crying.

“You shouldn’t be alone right now. Come up, just for a cup of tea to calm your nerves. Please?”

Aemond’s voice is more gentle than you remember him capable of.

Defeated, you reply with a silent nod and let him lead you back to his mum’s home.

As you step into Alicent’s lavish apartment, you're hit by nostalgia so potent it makes more tears well up in your already damp eyes.

Everything smells the same.

Everything looks the same.

“Is she here?”, you ask, voice small and unsteady.

“She’s out having dinner with Cole”

Aemond takes off his shoes and neatly places them on the shoe rack. He moves to the kitchen to fill the kettle and you follow closely behind, discreetly sweeping the back of your hand against your cheek to wipe away the tears that keep sliding down.

Fucking pull it together!

Aemond flicks his hand towards the chair by the small, round table in the corner of the kitchen; the breakfast nook where Alicent would serve coffee and fresh bread in the morning whenever you stayed over.

It’s all so familiar, yet being here feels so different; almost taboo. Like you’re not allowed here anymore.

You sit down and place your hands on the table, nervously tapping your fingers together as you wait for Aemond to bring the tea over.

He places the flower-patterned cup with gold details by your restless hands and sits down in the chair opposite yours,

“Drink”, he encourages and takes a sip from his own cup, seeing eye watching you intensely.

You pick up the cup, experimentally sipping, letting the hot beverage warm you from within.

It’s comforting.

“Do you really tell yourself I never loved you?”

Aemond’s sudden question takes you by such surprise, you nearly choke on your tea.

Your eyes dart up from watching the cup in your hand to watch him. His expression is as calculated as always; not letting you in on what he’s thinking. Still, his voice is gentle, like it’s been since he came to your rescue.

“I-”, you begin, trying to come up with an answer to his absurd query.

Why is he asking you this now?

“I mean, sometimes it felt like you didn’t love me”, you answer truthfully, carefully observing his reaction.

He gives nothing away as he hums in response.

“You seemed miserable being with me”, you add, wondering if this is the long overdue heart-to-heart both of you have been avoiding.

“Sometimes I was”, he replies matter of factly.

You’re not surprised by his response, not really, but having your suspicions confirmed allows you to prod further,

“I guess I just wonder whether you loved me, or just the idea of me?”

You know you’re poking a resting bear, but you can’t help yourself. You need to know what he thinks about all of this.

About you.

Aemond doesn’t blink when he answers,

“You were my first love”

You feel that all too familiar lump in your throat reappear.

“It was all so new to me, caring about someone so much. Someone who’s not family. I didn’t know how to handle those feelings”, he admits and you have to stop yourself from letting the astonishment you feel from his confession show on your face.

It’s quiet for a while. You are too shocked by Aemond’s sudden introspection, and he’s still cautious about opening up, observing you expectantly.

After a few deep breaths and some soothing tea, you speak up,

“I know things have been hard for you Aemond, and I-, I really tried to understand you. But my sympathy for you wasn’t endless… It-, I ran out”

You really don't want to fight, you don’t think you could handle it in the state you’re in now, but being honest with your ex husband always came with the risk of him lashing out.

He sighs, leans back, and locks eyes with you,

“I know. Thank you for… trying”

And that’s it. The conversation dies, like it’s run its course. Just like your relationship.

Aemond calls a taxi for you to bring you the short distance to the hotel. Both of you stay in your seats, waiting for your ride in silence.

There’s still one thing you need to tell him.

“I really want this to work, Aemond. The band, I mean”

Aemond hums in response again, finger tapping rhythmically against the top of Alicent’s kitchen table,

“Me too”, he replies after some time of silence.

It almost feels official in a way, the fact that you’ve finally agreed with each other that the band comes first; even before your broken hearts.

The silence persists as you down the last of your tea.

You feel a strange mixture of emptiness and melancholy inside. It all hits you at once; the divorce, removing his name from yours, continuing on as nothing more than business partners.

It starts as a sting in your chest, but blooms out into a suffocating ache.

He doesn’t want you anymore.

And you don’t want him; can’t want him.

It does not matter how wonderful it had been at times. The pain of the heartache you caused each other weighs heavier. And there’s nowhere to go but forward, even if your heart breaks with each step.

Life goes on.

The performance in Oldtown is just as exhilarating as the previous lives had been.

The crowd is loving every second and the venue is packed.

You feel alive.

This is it.

This is what matters.

Your biggest hit from your first album, Landslide, is a permanent feature in any show you play.

You’d written it from the sidelines, watching as duty tore the person you loved most into every direction possible.

Tonight, as you stay on the stage with Aemond and your band members retreat backstage, singing Landslide suddenly feels different.

You shoot him a quick glance before approaching your mic to introduce the next song.

They’re shouting your name, shouting Aemonds name, and you think you hear someone yell out ‘the sound of the woman that loved you!’

Speaking with Aemond earlier today, when you agreed you’d prioritise the band over any dispute you had, has left you nostalgic. Singing ‘Landslide’ feels like offering a piece of your heart, the heart he had held in his palm, to him once again.

“I wrote this song about a boy who had to grow up too fast”, you say, and Aemond starts to pluck the strings of his guitar.

‘I took my love and I took it down’

‘I climbed a mountain and I turned around’

‘And I saw my reflection in the snow-covered hills’

'Til the landslide brought me down’

You’d never told Aemond you wrote this song about him and his grandfather.

There was never any need to. You’re convinced that he already knows it’s about them.

You can’t help but to look over at him; at the way his hands move gracefully over the guitar.

‘Oh, mirror in the sky, what is love?’

‘Can the child within my heart rise above?’

Leaving his grandfather’s firm and subsequently leaving the path his entire life had led to had been tough for him, even with you by his side.

And now he’ll have to navigate this new course alone.

You still find yourself worrying about him; for the boy robbed of his vision, forced to grow up faster than most.

‘Can I sail through the changin' ocean tides?’

‘Can I handle the seasons of my life?’

‘Well, I've been afraid of changin'

'Cause I've built my life around you’

He’s had to adapt; had to rethink and relearn everything before.

He will be fine.

Maybe you just worry about him because you hope, somewhere inside, that he won’t be fine without you?

A selfish wish for him to need you.

‘But time makes you bolder’

‘Even children get older’

‘And I'm getting older too’

It’s time to let go.

For the first time since the beginning of the tour, you don’t feel an urgent need to escape to the solitude of your hotel room as soon as the show is over.

You move unhurried backstage, gathering your things, looking over your stage outfits, pondering if you’ll wear the same thing each night or mix it up.

Just when you’re about to leave, you see auburn hair flash by as Alicent Hightower enters the backstage area, throwing her arms around her two children, loudly gushing over how incredible the show had been.

You go back to inspect your wardrobe with your back turned to them, suddenly feeling stiff and awkward with your ex mother-in-law in the room.

You haven’t seen her in months, not since before the divorce.

As the chatter behind you dies down, the clicking of heels grows louder before coming to a halt.

You know she’s standing behind you, one gentle hand coming up to lightly tap your back.

You turn around with a forced smile on your face.

How do you act around your ex-husband’s mother?

Alicent’s large, warm eyes shimmer as she looks you over, grabbing your shoulders to pull you in for a hug.

“Darling, what an incredible show! You were absolutely fantastic”, she compliments, smiling wide.

You smile back at her,

“Thank you, Alicent”

“How are you holding up?”

Her tone is soft, and her hands stay on both sides of your shoulders.

“I’m good”, you reply shortly, not really sure whether you should confide in your ex-husband's mother or not.

“I’m so glad you can put your differences aside and continue to work together”, she says sympathetically, but her choice of words make you wince slightly.

“And now is your opportunity to be brave. You’re both such wonderful artists. Focus on the music, alright?”

“Yes”

Your answer sounds meek. Her words send a pang straight to your heart.

It’s all so final.

It’s all over.

You look into each other’s eyes, a thousand words said within mere seconds as you feel your eyes well up with tears.

Alicent offers you a sad smile before embracing you in another warm hug.

Silent, hot tears slide down your cheeks as you mumble into her hair, “Will you take care of him?”

She pats your head, hand sliding down to stroke your hair lovingly, And then she hums, sounding so much like her son.

“Mm. Thank you for loving him”

A/N: Thank you sm for reading!

[icarusredwings]

Thinking about Logan trying to comfort Kurt's guilt.

It's a full moon. For the others, it's a pretty normal night. This isn't to say that they don't give it a second thought, or a tenth, but Kurt takes it upon himslef to find out the names of every single person that dosn't make it during their missions.

While most, Like Logan, would rather forget, Kurt had another job to do. It's his duty to make sure these lost and scared souls find heaven.

Walking up to the nearest church, Logan grunts, already halfway through his bottle since they've returned. He hears whispering. Small prayers that he's heard all before whether when muttered on the field or heard through the walls, his rosery intertwined between his 6 fingers, gripping it as if someone would rip it from him.

"I thought you'd be here.." he mutters.

Kurt doesn't answer him. But there he is, on his knees in front of a statue of Mary, tears soaking the fur on his face, hands together. The way the moonlight is coming in, it hits him in a way that makes him look ethereal. Like a blessing from above from the man himself. If only Logan believed in that kind of thing.

It was so ironic that someone so innocent, pure, and beautiful actively visited hell. Perhaps this was why. For he's seen what goes on and has chosen that he's seen enough.

Letting out a big sigh, He comes to crouch next to him, taking a swig of his bottle as he picks up the list. He wants to crumble it up or perhaps shred it, the handwritten swoopy german being nothing but a reminder of how much he failed too. Hero's weren't supposed to let people get hurt. Especially not almost a dozen.. 11 lives ruined. 11 loved ones ripped from their families grasp. And all because they weren't good enough.

Finishing his whispers, he goes to grab the page but Logan had already picked it up. Kurt looks at him with those big black hole eyes of his, almost begging him not to ruin his list, but he dosn't grab for it. He lets his friend look over it only to shove his head back again, drinking for a few seconds think.

"...Emily Stripe..." He read, shifting to actually sit his ass on the concrete step, grunting as he let his arms hang over his knees. "Jessica Stripe...Are they sisters?" He asks the praying man, begging for forgiveness and to help serve these innocent souls towards the stairs and the gates.

More tears fall down his face each couple of words. In the end, he bows his head and doesn't bother looking at him, his eyes glistening in the light. "They were..."

Logan offers him the bottle, and without hesitation, he takes it, starting to chug a quarter of it. "Woah woah! Elfs can't handle that much, ya'know!" He says, and Kurt mumbles something along the lines that he's German, alchool is in his viens from birth.

Taking the bottle back, He shakes it around, Giving a playful glare now it was almost gone. Putting it to the side, he wraps an arm over his shoulder, Kurt's tail wrapping around his waist as well. For a bit, they were just two guys, silently mourning the casualties of what it was like to have constant city villans at hand.

"...It ain't your fault, Fuzzball... or should I say buzzball. You okay there, Mr. Blue?"

"I.....I was so sure I could have saved them.."

"Not your fault, Bub."

"..But what if it is..? If I was just.. a bit better.. I could have saved them."

"Yeah... well, if it's your fault, it's mine too."

Kurt lays his head on his shoulder, wiping his face on his arm. Logan doesn't actually mind, but he knows he wants to play. "Augh! Did you just wipe snot on me!?"

Kurt smiles softly and says something Logan doesn't recognize.

It could be a million things, but deep down, he has a feeling of what it might be.

"Yeah, yeah.. whatever." Pulling him close he headlocks him to his chest and rubs his fist over his head, making Kurt whine and squirm. "Ah! Nein!"

"That's what you get for rubbing snot all over me!"

He scoffs, saying something else, but Logan only catches the end of it.

"Du bist vild, mein freund"

He remembered another scrawny german who said the same. Swallowing, he lets go, letting him lay against him.

"...You really shouldn't be smoking in here." He muttered after some time of them sitting, taking this time to make sure that the people on this list were not fotgotten.

Logan smirks, blowing some smoke into his face as he coughs drimatically and waves his hands infront of his face with a smile.

[holylulusworld]

Arachnophobia

Summary: You’re afraid of spiders, and you want to become Tony Stark’s assistant.

Pairing: Steve Rogers x fem!Reader, Tony Stark x Platonic!Reader, Peter Parker x Platonic!Reader

Warnings: arachnophobia, fluff, scared reader, cute Peter

“You will work mostly with me and Dr. Banner.” Tony Stark, yes, the Tony Stark, explains as you try to keep up with his steady steps. You are close to reaching your goal, working as a lab assistant at the Avengers Tower.

“OH,” you nod, fearing to say something stupid and messing up this job interview.

“Don’t worry,” Tony stops in his tracks to flash you a smile, “he barely turns into his green alter ego these days.”

You giggle. “I’m not afraid of Dr. Banner because I don’t have a reason. I’m not a villain.”

Tony chuckles. “I know that you’re neither a villain nor a criminal. I did my research before even inviting you to the interview.”

Your cheeks heat up. Of course, Tony Stark would do a complete background check when receiving your application for the position. The Avengers reside in the building too. He’d never risk their safety.

“I hope you didn’t find out I stole a candy when I was four,” you reply, hoping to ease the tension in your body with a joke.

“I saw the footage,” he grins and points at the laboratory. “Let’s head inside. You can meet Dr. Banner and Peter.”

“Peter?” You question.

“I took him under my wing,” Tony replies. “He’s a good boy. Incredibly smart and kind-hearted. Hopefully, a younger version of me.”

You nod. That’s a lot to shoulder at such a young age. Being brilliant and having someone like Tony Stark want you to become his protégé. You envy and pity the young man. It’s hard to stand in a great man’s shadow.

“Shall we?” Tony puts his hand on a scanner at the door. The door beeps but doesn’t open. He leans forward, using the iris scanner to unlock the next lock. Lastly, he types in a code on the keypad. The door finally unlocks, and you can enter the laboratory.

“Wow,” you gasp. You knew that there was going to be lots of security. But Stark’s security system is still impressive.

“Welcome to the laboratory, Mr. Stark, Ms. Y/L/N.” Friday welcomes you to the laboratory. And what can you say? It’s even more impressive than you thought possible.

You look around, clasping your hands together. Bruce and Steve, who came around to let Bruce check on his shield for scientific purposes (which means Bruce wants to shoot a laser at the shield) watch you twirl around while giggling like a child.

“This is so awesome!” You exclaim, making all of them chuckle. They admire your honest enthusiasm and happiness at the sight of the laboratory.

“Hi, Mr. Stark, the new suit is awesome!” A voice stops you from getting even more excited. You look around the room, trying to find the source of the voice. Captain Rogers and Bruce didn’t say a word, nor did Tony. “Hi, miss! You must be the new lab assistant.”

“What—I?” You look around the room again before you slowly look at the ceiling. A bloodcurdling scream tears from your throat, seeing a human-sized spider on the ceiling. “Ahhhhh! No! A spider…A huge spider…A spider…a spider…”

You run toward the door, but it won’t open, so you make a beeline to jump right into Captain America’s arms. Clinging to a very surprised Steve like a koala, you wrap your legs around him and hide your face in his chest. Your teeth shatter, and you whimper in distress.

“Mr. Stark?” You hear something drop to the ground and whine loudly. “I didn’t want to scare her. What did I do?”

“Y/N,” Tony wants to laugh about the scene unfolding in front of him. You’re wrapped around Steve while he looks at Tony, wide-eyed. Steve doesn’t dare to move or say anything, afraid to scare you even more. “Uh, that’s not a spider.”

“It is a huge spider!” You sniffle and hold tight onto Steve for dear life. “HUGE! SPIDER!”

“Uh-miss,” Peter clears his throat. “I’m not a spider. I’m Spiderman.” He slowly steps toward you, tapping a hidden button on the brand-new suit, Tony invented, to let it disappear. “But you can call me Peter.”

Peter holds out his hand, giving you a cracked smile as you slowly dip your head to look his way. In front of you stands a friendly young man, not a spider wanting to scare you.

“Sorry for scaring you. I tried my new suit and crawled around the ceiling to test it,” he explains. “I’m so sorry.”

“You’re…Spiderman…” Realization dawns on you. Crap, this is the Avengers’ tower, and the young man is Spiderman. “OH…no!” You sniffle, embarrassed. “I didn’t want to freak out. I’m sorry too.” You’re still shaken from the encounter, but smile at him. “Sorry…I’m just scared of spiders since one crawled up my leg and bit me when I was a kid.”

You both chuckle when Peter tells you he got bitten once too. He keeps the part of the bite turning him into a human spider out.

“Okay, let us all calm down and laugh it off.” Tony releases a shuddering breath. He feared you’d quit your job right after he hired you. “Steve, could you please let my assistant down now? We are not done with our little tour.”

Steve clears his throat. He forgot about the fact that you’re clinging to his body and that he protectively wrapped his arms around you.

“I think she needs a break,” Steve says, and refuses to let go of you. “Let’s get her some tea and something to eat. That was a stressful situation.”

Tony cocks a brow. He doesn’t like how Steve reacts to you in his arms. “Capsicle. No. We are not done with my tour.”

“What?” Steve furrows his brows. He already walks toward the door with you in his arms. “I’ll show her around. First stop, the kitchen, next to the communal room, and then her place at the tower. I think the room next to mine would be a good choice.”

Steve carefully places you on your feet. He looks you all over, listening to your heartbeat. Luckily, it slowed down.

“Shall we go?” Steve offers his arm to you. “I’ll give you the Steve tour.”

Rolling his eyes, Tony watches Steve guide you out of the laboratory.

“Great, now he stole my lab assistant before I got the chance to work with her.”

Bruce turns back to his work, while Peter still feels guilty for scaring you. He plans on making things up to you soon. Maybe he can even help you lose your fear of spiders...

Tags in reblog.

[munsonkitten]

read on AO3 | rated T | sick fic

Eddie groans on the other side of the room. He’s curled up on the recliner with a pillow hugged to his chest. Beside him, a half eaten bag of chips and an unopened Mountain Dew can sit on the side table. He groans again and shifts in his seat, drawing his knees up higher to his chest like he’s trying to crawl inside himself. 

“You okay, baby?” Steve asks from the couch. 

A quiet grunt comes from the mess of curly brown hair covering his face. He unravels himself slowly, crawling out of the chair without bothering to put down the foot rest. The pillow gets left where it is, and the chips and his drink lay forgotten where they are. 

“I’ll be back.”

Eddie disappears from the living room, and the bathroom door clicks close. He’s gone for a little while, and Steve’s about to get up to check on him when the bathroom door opens again, and then he hears Eddie step out and the bedroom door clicks shut instead. When Eddie finally comes back, he’s replaced his jeans for sweatpants, and he has one of his blankets wrapped around his shoulders. 

“My stomach hurts,” Eddie says, his voice sounding miserable. 

It’s a common occurrence at this point. Steve’s used to Eddie being so up and down — he has good days and bad days, and he eats too much junk food for his stomach to handle. Most days something hurts, and Steve wishes he could wrap Eddie up and keep him safe and away from the pain forever. 

In the few months they’ve been together, and the year before that they were friends, Steve’s seen more stomach aches, headaches, painful periods, heartburn and other various ailments than he can count. And he knows Eddie can feel completely miserable over the smallest things — he doesn’t handle any of it very well, moaning and groaning and sighing while he looks for tums and ibuprofen and whatever else he needs. 

Steve hums empathetically, sitting up in case Eddie wants the spot where he’s laying. “Can I get you anything?”

Eddie shakes his head.

“Is it period cramps?”

Eddie shakes his head again. 

“Good old fashioned tummy ache, then,” Steve says. 

Eddie shrugs, wrapping his blanket tighter around himself. He turns around and goes into the kitchen, and Steve hears glasses clinking in the cupboard, and then the sink running. Eddie comes back with a glass of water, taking small sips as he comes toward Steve.

He places a damp hand on his forehead, and then his cheeks, cooling his pink skin. He might have a fever, too, Steve thinks. Something’s been going around, and it’s knocked out each kid one after the other this week — it was only a matter of time before Eddie or Steve caught it too. 

“C’mere, kitten,” Steve says, opening up his arms.

He lays back down, gesturing for Eddie to come lay with him on the couch. 

Eddie fits himself half on top of Steve, the rest of him slipping between Steve and the back of the couch. The blanket covers them, and Steve can tell Eddie took off his binder when he left the room, too. It’s rare for him to take it off during the day, even if it’s just them at home with no other plans, so he knows Eddie must really not be feeling good. 

“Are you sure you don't want a ginger ale, or something?” Steve asks. He slides his hand up and down Eddie’s back, trying to soothe away the pain. 

“Don’t have any.” 

“I can run to the store.”

“No,” Eddie says. “Only cure is cuddles.”

“Is that so?” Steve snorts. 

“Don’t make fun of me. I’m being attacked by my immune system. I’m sick, Steve. You would make fun of someone for having an illness? Shame on you.”

It’s obvious Eddie’s heart isn’t really in it. The teasing doesn’t feel like it usually does because Eddie just sounds tired. He burrows his warm face into Steve’s neck, and sighs, a quiet groan slipping out along with it. 

“I’m sorry you don’t feel good, baby,” Steve murmurs. 

“It’s okay, sweetheart,” Eddie whispers. “Always so sweet to me.”

“Just say the word, and I’ll go get some stuff for you, okay?” Steve offers again. 

Eddie just hums noncommittally and curls impossibly closer to Steve’s body. He’s snoring softly within the next few minutes, and Steve just turns his attention back to the TV, allowing Eddie to get some rest. 

They lay there together for a long while, and Eddie comes in and out of consciousness ever so often. Sometimes he mumbles out quiet words of ‘don’t feel good,’ or laughs at jokes on the show they’re watching, and falls back asleep again.

There’s a warm swell of love in Steve’s chest. The fact that Eddie’s comfortable with him, even when he’s miserable like this, makes Steve fall in love with him even more.

Each nuzzle of Eddie’s warm face against his neck, and each curl of his fingers in Steve’s shirt, or each slide of his leg over Steve’s hip as he gets more comfortable — it all makes Steve feel like the luckiest guy on earth. 

The afternoon slips away into evening, and Eddie dozes in and out for most of it. By the time Wayne’s about to leave for work, Eddie’s awake again and groaning in discomfort each time he shifts on the couch.

“I take it someone’s not feeling well,” Wayne comments as he leaves his bedroom. “You need anything before I go, bud?” 

“No,” Eddie says, lifting his head just enough to talk to Wayne. He drops it back down with a heavy sigh when the fatigue decides he’s done enough. “Steve’s taking care of me.”

Wayne lingers for just another second, probably waiting to see if Eddie changes his mind, and then he says his goodbyes and tells them he’ll be back in the morning, like always. 

Eddie mumbles out a goodbye and a ‘see you later,’ just as Wayne walks out the front door. 

He uncurls himself from Steve’s body, then, and worms his way into a sitting position. Steve shifts to give Eddie more room, and raises an eyebrow at him. 

There’s a sheen of sweat on Eddie’s face, his forehead glistening and his cheeks a rosy pink. He pushes the blanket off of them and sighs, head lolling back against the backrest of the couch. 

“It’s too hot,” Eddie bemoans. 

And it’s not, really. It’s winter, and there’s a chill in the air, even inside. Eddie’s like a furnace, though, and his forehead is warm when Steve lifts his hand to touch it. 

“You might be really coming down with something,” Steve says. 

“You should probably go home,” Eddie says. “Don’t wanna get you sick.”

Steve frowns and shakes his head. “I’ll take care of you.”

Eddie sighs, loud and long. “You shouldn’t have to.”

“I don’t feel like I have to,” Steve says, simply. “I like taking care of you. Figured you’d have noticed that by now.”

Eddie drops his head down to Steve’s chest and moans quietly in his throat. His fingers curl around Steve’s shirt and he holds on, curled in on himself. 

“Fuck,” Eddie grunts after a few seconds. “Sorry. Just had, like, a wave of nausea.”

“At the thought of me taking care of you?” Steve jokes.

“Shut up.”

“C’mon, let’s get you to bed, baby. You’ll be more comfortable.” 

“Give me another second. Please.”

“Take your time,” Steve says, rubbing a hand up and down Eddie’s back. His shirt is damp with sweat, and he’s radiating feverish heat. 

Whatever Eddie has is coming on quick because he was fine this afternoon when Steve first came over. That’s why Steve thought it was just a regular junk food induced stomach ache earlier, and that Eddie would be fine after some tums or a nap, but that doesn’t seem to be the case. 

He’s been around for headaches and stomach aches and other little ailments, but he’s never seen Eddie sick. Not like this. 

Eventually Eddie uncurls himself from Steve, and unsteadily makes his way to his feet. There’s exhaustion in his movements, and Steve is quick to wrap an arm around his waist to help him. It might not be necessary, but Steve can’t help it — he wants to take care of Eddie in any way he can, and making sure he doesn’t pass out in the fifteen feet from the couch to his bedroom seems like a good place to start. 

He gets Eddie situated in bed, fluffing up his pillows and making sure his blankets are within reach. Eddie takes one and pulls it up to his chin, rolling over to lay on his side. If he didn’t look so miserable, Steve thinks this would be really cute — Eddie being all cozy and cuddly always makes Steve smile and want to take a picture to save forever. 

“I’m going to the store,” Steve says, regretting that he has to leave Eddie alone, but knowing he needs more than they currently have to get through this. “I’ll get you some soup and some ginger ale, okay? Anything else you might need?”

Eddie shrugs. “Just be quick.”

“Of course, baby.”

He bends down and presses a kiss to Eddie’s sweaty forehead, running his fingers through his damp hair, and then he finds his shoes and keys and leaves. 

At the store, he picks out a few cans of soup and some ginger ale. He tries to remember what his mom would do for him when he was sick as a kid, and thinks of long nights with a cold towel pressed to his forehead, and a regularly refilled cup of ice for him to chew on. He doesn’t know how much ice Eddie has in his freezer, so he decides he’ll just buy a bag instead of worrying about finding ice trays or how long they’ll take to freeze.

His basket is full by the time he gets to the check out, and he knows he’s been gone for a lot longer than he meant to be. 

He gets back to Eddie’s, and finds him still curled up in bed where Steve left him. Steve gives him a Gatorade and a cup of ice before leaving to put the rest of the groceries away. 

“Here, try eating something,” Steve says gently, watching as Eddie’s big eyes give him a look that says he wants to do anything else. “Just a few crackers, okay? And I’ll make you some soup in a little bit.”

Steve leaves him to it, a napkin of saltines on his nightstand, and goes to wet a washcloth from the bathroom. He folds it a few times and moves Eddie’s bangs so he can lay it over his forehead. 

“Thanks,” Eddie whispers, bringing a cracker to his mouth to take a few small bites. He finishes it and moves to lay down on his side, now holding the cold washcloth to his forehead. 

“Do you need anything else while I’m up?” Steve asks. 

Eddie takes a few small sips of his Gatorade, and then a few more before answering. “I’m okay.”

With that, Steve climbs into Eddie’s bed, settling between his boyfriend and the wall. He pulls a magazine out of the crevice between the bed and the wall and flicks it open to where he left off the last time he was here. 

“You’re supposed to be cuddling me,” Eddie huffs, looking over his shoulder at Steve with as playful a look he can muster. “It’s the only cure.”

“How could I forget?” 

Steve puts his magazine back, and turns on his side so he can spoon up behind Eddie. His hand settles gently on his stomach, rubbing up and down in a way he hopes is soothing for him. 

It’s pretty likely, Steve thinks, that he’s going to get sick soon, too. This stomach bug has wiped out most of their friends at this point, and being this close to Eddie means it’s definitely going to jump to him next. 

He finds that he doesn’t really care. There’s no place he’d rather be right now, and there’s no way in hell he’s leaving Eddie to ride this out on his own. 

“So sweet to me,” Eddie murmurs sleepily. It isn’t the first time he’s said it today.

Steve presses a kiss to the back of his warm neck. “Get some rest, baby.”

“Mhm,” Eddie hums. “Tired.”

Sleep tugs at Steve, and he lets himself succumb to it, Eddie held safe in his arms.

(please leave kudos on AO3 <3)