#me;.....when was the last time he'd had a hug

[green-alm0nd]

Crosshair x gn!reader: Just breathe

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Summary:

In which Crosshair fails Omega, missing the shot that took her away from Pabu and back to Tantiss. He feels guilty, and angry at himself. Luckily, you're always there for him.

WARNINGS: SPOILERS FOR TBB S3 E11, swearing, angst, panic attacks, breakdowns, comfort, reader being Crosshair's shoulder to rely on. Kinda short but there's comfort in the end.

Enjoy!

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The waves on the shore of Pabu always brought a sense of comfort to the townspeople.

To Crosshair, however, brought a sense of dread when he saw his locator fall to the enraged water below the island.

It had been his hand. His damn hand.

He suddenly felt cold, a shiver running through his spine. He had failed, and a sense of guilt, dread and disappointment ran through his body, from head to toe.

His hand started shaking uncontrollably, and he gripped it tightly in order to make it stop. But he couldn't.

His heartbeat quickened, and found it hard to breathe. He took his helmet off, his fingers gripping the stone of the rock fence.

"Cross! Cross! Are you okay?!"

His eyes widened, he did not want to deal with you now. Not because you were too bubbly for him at that moment, but he didn't want you to see him so insecure.

He started breathing heavily, and clenched his chest with one hand while his other hand was placed between you both.

"Get- away from me."

You frowned.

"Cross..." You whispered, very slowly getting closer. You took very small steps, trying to ignore the fact that the Imperial ship was leaving the now partially destroyed island of Pabu. Eventually, you reached a point where his palm was stopping you from helping your boyfriend.

"Can I touch you?" You asked, keeping your calm.

Crosshair continued hyperventilating, and he let out the smallest nod he ever gave you. To this, you grabbed both his hands and started rubbing circles around them.

"Crosshair. Look at me"

He didn't raise his head. He was terrified of what you would think when you saw he was weak.

"Crosshair." You said, slowly bringing your fingers to his chin, lifting his face up.

His eyes filled with tears, and he started breaking down while his breathing only got faster, and worse. He didn't know how to stop it.

You placed your hand on his heart.

"Breath with me, Cross. Inhale," You started, inhaling a big chunk of air. Crosshair did so, but it wasn't as long and as slow. It's seemed like he was trying his best, though. "...And exhale."

You let all the air out, staring at him.

"Let's go again. Inhale... exhale. Inhale...exhale..."

Slowly but surely, Crosshair's breathing slowed down. Until, he just looked at you in a numb way. Almost as if he was too tired to show his feelings.

Eventually, he looked down, and decided to speak.

"I failed. The shot."

You raised an eyebrow.

"What shot?" You asked.

"Omega. She got captured and expected me to shoot a tracker on the ship. But it fell to the water, because of my hand." He replied, growling at the last part.

Your eyes widened.

"Omega...?" You asked. "How?"

Crosshair sighed.

"She didn't want the people suffer more than they already have." He explained, curtly.

You covered your mouth with your hand. That was the worst thing you wanted to hear after your boyfriend missing a shot.

You tried to see the 'bigger picture', though there was no bigger picture in that situation.

You looked at him.

"We'll...figure something out, I promise. Let's focus on what to tell Hunter."

Crosshair nodded.

Moments like this, when he was lost in the darkness, he'd let you physically get closer to him. He was not one to really like physical touch, but more fond of gift giving. Still, he let you hug him this time. You wrapped your arms around the tall, slim figure that was trembling. For a snarky man like Crosshair, it scared you a bit to see him like this.

He looked helpless, unprotected, defenceless, even.

You shook your thoughts away, and tried to focus on the moment in the middle of the aftermath of the battle.

After you pulled away, you kissed Crosshair's shoulder.

"We'll figure something out. I promise."

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Some comfort before The Bad Batch ep 15 comes out!

Reblogs and shares are highly appreciated!

My requests are still open :p

[echobx]

not my type 4 - Rafe Cameron x plus size!fem!reader

summary: y/n has to go work in the OBX a yearafter she last saw Rafe and things take their turns...

warnings: fluff, smut (p in v (unprotected))

word count: 2.5k

author's note: I'm not a fan of what I did here and I wouldn't even feel bad if y'all hated me for it bc it's just shit in my eyes, but I also don't have the capacity to change it or write it anew but I also didn't wanna leave it unfinished. that's all.

part 1 part 2 part 3

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You don't want to move to the OBX, but it's what your father expects of you and it's a promotion. You'll be in charge of the division, hiring new brokers, taking care of business. It’s a huge step forward from all the number pushing you had to do the last year since Florida was opened.  But, just like you predicted, it had been worth it, and now you're supposed to actually bring in good numbers from the island strip.  And on top of that, you are sure that you're over him. A whole year is a long time after all. 

“And the beach is just gorgeous,” you tell your friend Parker, who helped you move. You're both standing in the new office building, looking out of a window, not noticing Rafe's approaching behind you.  “That wholly depends on what side of the island you're on,” Rafe comments, and you turn around to look at him. His polo shirt hugs his muscles perfectly and the shorts sit a bit low. It's in stark contrast to the very formal rosé colored suit you're wearing.  But the worst part of it is that your heart starts fluttering just a little when his blue eyes rake over you.  “We'll find out soon enough,” you hit him back and take Parker's hand, intertwining your fingers, and to your own luck he just goes with it. You had been friends for too long for him to question your moves, and he also knew way too much about what had happened between Rafe and you.  “Good,” Rafe smiles and turns to walk into his office.  “Okay, y/n/n, I get it, but you're also crushing my hand,” Parker laughs lightly, and you let go of him.  “I'm gonna be so okay. Yes. I'll just be okay. Right?” you tell yourself and walk into your office to set it up. 

When you go out for lunch, Rafe simply joins you uninvited. You focus on Parker, on pretending that you're with him, not just because you have to keep your mind from slipping to Rafe. But mostly because you want to know if he's going to be jealous.  And from the way his jaw clenches when you kiss Parker's cheek, it seems to be working. 

However, it's only working for a week, because your friend has to go back home and the moment he's gone you jump headfirst into work. If you won't let your mind rest, it can't think of Rafe. That's your strategy.  It's a flawed one though, because after three weeks of excessive paperwork and hiring new staff, you find your desk empty, nothing left to do. At least not enough to keep you occupied for more than a few hours each day. 

“There's an issue with the Campbell property,” Rafe says while walking into your office, not having knocked. “I thought you might want to look at it before I make a decision.” He hands you the papers, and you look over it, but you can't find any mistakes on it.  “And what's your verdict?” you ask, hoping that it'll help you figure out what might be wrong, because even after reading the notes a third time, you still can't find the problem.  “You work too much,” he shrugs and you drop the paper.  “What?”  “Nothing. It's a numbers issue, see,” Rafe points at the yard size. “They say it's 0.7 acres, but it's actually just below 0.6 acres.” “How do you know that?” “Because I've been to that house. Do you want to risk us getting sued?” he cocks his brow up and you sigh.  “I'll send Darryl to measure it out. Anything else?”  “Your boyfriend isn't around as much as I thought he'd be.” Rafe lets his fingers run over the glass of your desk, and you bite the inside of your cheek to not smile. The small glimpse of jealousy makes your heart skip a beat. It's stupid, really, because you don't know each other, you shouldn't feel like that for a guy you had slept with twice over a year ago. And yet, you still did.  “Parker has his work, and I have mine,” you smile politely.  “I see. Well, the Campbell thing,” Rafe notes before walking out again, and your heart is still pounding like crazy after the small interaction. 

You keep working, trying to keep your distance and he does the same. Only talking when it's really necessary to keep the office out of the reds.  You don't notice that he keeps eyeing you when you're not looking, that he makes sure that the kitchen is always stocked with your favorite snack. And you don't know that he notices how the small packets only ever go missing when you have a rough day or had an unplanned call from your father. And that you dress more so provocatively when you have a showing than when it's just an office day. Or how you strip off your heels when you sit at your desk for more than five minutes. He picks up on all of your little antics, and he doesn't even want to, he's over it just as much as you, but he can't help it either. 

And for the brokers open two months after your start in the OBX he makes sure that the caterer has a non-seafood option alongside the tiny lobster rolls and crab cakes. Because he knows you don't eat it, and he wants to get on your good side again, although he's aware that food won't be the way to do it. 

“Old fashioned?” Rafe holds the glass out for you, and you take it with a hushed “thank you.” “That's what you had the-”  “I remember,” you look up at him, his hair is cut back to a buzz cut, and you don't know if you like it as much. It does accentuate his features though, which isn't a bad thing at all. The sharp nose and high cheekbones, the crooked smile he always greets you with- No, you can't let yourself think of him again. It was hard enough as is, to survive living and working so close to him.  “You look good,” Rafe nods at you, and you don't know what to reply. The short black dress is showing off more than you intended to, but your best friend Claire convinced you to put it on anyway when you called her earlier that day.  “Uhm… thanks,” you mumble and let your eyes run over him, half buttoned shirt and suit pants. He hadn't dressed up at all and the fact that he didn't need to, and your heart was still racing, was speaking volumes. “You clean up nice too,” you tell him and look away again. 

You try mingling, networking a little and gossiping a little less. But when you overhear a broker from a different brokerage talk about Rafe you simply can't stop yourself. The words coming out of her mouth won't add up to the Rafe you know and try to hate.  She talks about dark escapades and less intriguing things but follows them up with a harsh comment on his person. Maybe she is jealous, you choose to believe that rather than what she keeps talking about. There's nothing less believable than all the atrocious things she mentions and yet when you look at yourself in the mirror of the restroom later that night, you think it doesn't matter. Everyone has a past after all.  “He's not like that anymore, right?” you ask yourself quietly after freshening up your lipstick. 

You see Rafe standing at the side, not wanting to talk to anyone, and you start to realize why. You start to understand why he never ate lunch in the kitchen with you or the team.  “Networking is part of the job,” you remind him while placing yourself next to him.  “Not with this folk,” he replies dryly.  “You shouldn't care what they say.” You look up at him and meet his gaze.  “I don't. Do you?”  “I don't think it's possible to do this job if you're not a stone-cold killer at heart.”  He flinches at your wording but he nods. “Are you?”  “Have to.”  “You don't though,” he seems almost sorry, but he turns away again, nipping on his drink.  “Didn't get a choice much,” you mumble absentmindedly. 

“Contradictory,” Rafe huffs a laugh.  “What?”  “You. It's contradictory. You saying you didn't get a choice after telling me you made the choice freely,” he looks at you again, eyes scanning your face.  “Didn’t think you'd remember,” you mutter and turn around, wanting nothing more than to vanish into thin air, but his hand shoots out to grasp your wrist.  “Don't go, please.”  “Why?” you turn around to look at him sternly. “I'm sorry, about all of it,” he apologizes, and let's go again.  “I'm over it,” you lie.  “You're really not,” he whispers and steps closer. “And it's my fault, all of it. I'm sorry, sugar.” 

“Are the stories true? The shit they talk about you behind your back?” you ask and he nods.  “Okay,” you say and he furrows his brows.  “You don't care?”  “Not really. I mean, that was then and now is now. I know the crazy shit people do when they're high,” you shrug, and he looks a bit confused. “And the daddy issues on top of that. I mean, I get it. We've both got our fair share of daddy issues, right?”  “Right,” Rafe drags out the word, he truly didn't expect you to not care about it at all. If anything, he thought you might run again, and the fact that you don't is confusing him.  “Do you wanna get out of here and get hammered?” you whisper, and a grin spreads on your face when he takes your hand and pulls you away. 

That's how you find yourself bent over your own desk, mind hazy and a moaning mess as he fucks you.  “Too much,” you cry but Rafe just laughs. “I know you can take it, baby.” And you know he's right, but you love to be told over and over again.  “You're so good to me. So tight, sugar.”  “Gonna cum,” you moan, and he stops, pulls out and makes you turn around.  “Sit up, pretty girl, and look at me.” You follow the order, sitting up and moving to the very edge of the table before he pulls your legs over his shoulders and enters you again. 

His hand presses down on your stomach and you groan. It's all too much, and he's making it worse, moving to press on your clit with his thumb before drawing harsh circles and your eyes roll back in response.  “Cum for me, baby,” he rasps into a kiss, biting down on your bottom lip when your orgasm rips through you, squeezing him so hard that he can't hold it in anymore and shoots his hot cum into your pulsating core. “Fuck, you're perfect. So hot. Missed you so much,” Rafe pants, still buried deep inside of you and not ready to actually let go.  “Forgot how big it was,” you whisper and feel him twitching inside you. It’s just a silly little note, but it's all he needed to get hard again and fuck you again, not caring about the mess you were making. 

“Bet he's not fucking you like that,” Rafe pants, and you don't know what he's talking about, but you let it slide, too focused on the pleasure he was giving you.  “Mine. All mine,” he rambled, lips attached to your neck, nipping at the skin and leaving a plethora of open-mouthed kisses on it.  “Yours, daddy. All yours,” you moan and hold onto him tighter, pressing yourself against him to try to force him into you deeper.  “Soak me, pretty,” he breathes against your lips, one hand holding your jaw, the other between your legs, rubbing your clit. And his blue eyes are barely visible as he stares into yours.  “Make me,” you hush but scream when he pinches your clit before rubbing it again.  “Don't be a brat, sugar. Come on. Soak daddy's dick,” he grins, drops of sweat running down his toned body, and you swear you'd lick him clean all over if he let you. And when his tongue once again entangles with yours, your eyes roll back and your legs tremble. Screaming at the high he managed to give you and far past it as he fucks you through it and empties his load into you for the second time. 

And the next few weeks you spend the same, pretending like nothing happened while letting him fuck you every single night. You don't want to talk about all the things that you should clearly talk about.  Like the fact that he still believes that you have a boyfriend up in New York, or that he keeps staying longer until he falls asleep next to you, and you don't have the heart to kick him out.  But you groan when you wake up and see him try to get ready as quietly as he can. 

“What are you doing?”  “Didn't mean to wake you, sugar,” Rafe apologizes and leans over you, placing a kiss on your lips.  “Don't go,” you whisper as he hovers over you. “I don't want you to go.”  “Are you sure?” he asks and you nod again. It takes him less than ten seconds to strip himself of his pants and jump back into bed. 

Your head is nuzzled into his neck while you hold onto him, somewhat scared that'll it's just a dream.  “I think you should break up with your boyfriend,” Rafe mumbles.  “Boyfriend?” you pull away with furrowed brows.  “Yeah. Not really fair to him. Not really fair to us,” he doesn't look at you as he says it.  “Us?” It's not that the term itself is confusing to you, but more so the fact that it's coming from him. That he's saying it so casually.  “Yeah. If you didn't have that Parker guy, I could actually take you out, show you off,” he whispers and finally lowers his eyes to see your awestruck face. “What?” 

“You want to date me?”  “I would yes. Is that hard to believe?”  “I'm me, and you're… you,” you answer, but he just kisses you, hoping to smother all your doubts with it. 

“Rafe?” you whisper and he nods. “Parker isn't my boyfriend, I just wanted to make you jealous,” you admit with a whisper and to your surprise he starts laughing. “What's so funny?”  “I didn't even think of that,” he laughs and starts plastering you in kisses. “So smart. So perfect. So pretty,” he says in between kisses.  “Do you really think so?” you ask, and he nods repeatedly, a smile playing on his lips.  “You're so beautiful, y/n.”  “Okay,” you blush and try to hide under the sheets, but he pulls them down to kiss you again and again, and you don't think he'd ever want to stop, and you wouldn't tell him to either. 

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please don't copy and/or post my work onto other platforms! ~e©ho

taglist: @ijustwantttoread @spideysimpossiblegirl @redhead1180 @drwstarkeyy @notdxbya @sublimepenguinpeach-blog @julczimozart

[breezy-cheezy]

Febuwhump day 1: Touch Starved

Boy can’t say something like “I don’t deserve to cry” and NOT expect a hug....

[adore-gregor]

So I could really use some advice

[starstaiined]

thinking about the unforgiving nature of the passage of time

[kentopedia]

.𖥔 ݁ ˖ LOOK, MOM! — nanami kento

yuuji accidentally calls you mom

contents: nanami x fem!reader, husband nanami hehe, this is very silly and random and stupid, fluff, nanami & reader are yuuji's adoptive parents fr, words: 1059

“nanamin!” yuuji waves at the figure approaching from behind you, a flashy grin appearing on his face as he glances at the blonde man over your shoulder. “i didn’t know you were coming by today!”

kento's hair sweeps over his forehead in the wind, a few strands coming free as he heads towards you. it's a brisk day, and he has two hot coffees in his hands that he'd picked up after his mission.

a bead of sweat drips down yuuji's temple, and he wipes it with his sleeve, still breathing heavily. you'd spent the last hour training together, pushing his physical capabilities. gojo had been busy recently, between all the missions and his conversations with the higher ups.

so, of course, you'd volunteered to teach the newest student when he couldn't. quickly, he became your favorite of the three first years.

“i’m in between assignments.” kento hands you the coffee, places a gentle hand on your lower back with a smile that is hardly there. “mind if i steal my wife away for a bit?”

yuuji shrugs, his face still bright as he glances between the two of you. ever since he’d found out two of his favorite sorcerers were together, he’d hardly shut up about it.

“no problem. i’m going to meet up with fushiguro anyway.” he brushes the dirt off his pants, waving to the two of you.

“good job today, yuuji!” grateful for something to warm you up in the chilly air, you take a sip of the coffee. it’s perfect, as always, just what you needed. “you’re improving a lot!”

he grins, proud of his accomplishments. “thanks, mom! see you later!”

there's an elongated moment of silence.

you choke on your coffee as kento stiffens beside you, watching while yuuji comes to a skittering halt.

all three of you freeze. you cough, clearing your throat, and kento's hand, steady on your back, has stilled. “yuuji—“

“oh,” the teenager says, his face turning bright red as he realizes what he’s called you. he glances between the two of you, embarrassment evident. “i’m so sorry. i didn’t mean to—“

though, you don’t give yuuji enough time to protest. within seconds, you’ve gathered him up in your arms, squeezing the younger boy to your chest. “kento, we have a son!”

you feel yuuji tense, before he relaxes, and throws his arms around you in an even tighter hug. there’s some sort of thanks resting there. he laughs, carefree, a sound you never want to be taken away from the boy who manages to shine so brightly in such a dark world.

kento stares at you, folds his glasses up in his pocket, as if to show you both how unimpressed he is. “do we?” he asks, lips flat, though, you see through the facade to the amusement hidden in his irises. “i'm certain i would’ve remembered something like that.”

you make a face at him, covering yuuji’s ears dramatically. “oh, don’t listen to your dad, yuuji. he’s old, he doesn’t know what he’s saying.”

kento blinks, and then sighs, wrinkling his nose. though, when he sees yuuji’s wide grin, his eager expression, he decides to play along.

“well, then... there must be a lapse in my memory." kento crosses his arms over his chest as he regards the two of your extensively, searching for something. "that would certainly explain the striking resemblance between us.” he says drily.

yuuji laughs, a loud snort. he looks nothing like either of you, but you’re not sure he’s ever gotten to witness kento's sarcastic sense of humor, the one that not everyone really gets.

“exactly!” yuuji quips back to kento’s blank expression. "everyone tells me i have the same smile as my dad!

kento’s trying hard not to let yuuji win that one, but you can see the slight wrinkle around his eye, the tiny quirk of his lips. beside the pink haired boy, you choke out a few giggles, covering your mouth.

“yes," kento nods, solemn. "i’ve heard that as well.”

"so you do know how to make jokes, nanamin!" yuuji shouts, nearly jumping in the air as he cheers. "i can't wait to tell fushiguro this."

kento rolls his eyes, but yuuji’s so pleased, and he releases you, his eyes soft and bright as he pulls away.

though he doesn’t say it, doesn't thank you for anything, you can tell he’s grateful. itadori yuuji may be happy with his life as it is now, may have found a home within the friends he’s made at the high school, but you know he misses his grandfather. sometimes, perhaps, he even longs for the conventional family he never really got to have.

you ruffle his hair, the pink strands catching between the cracks of your fingers. “tell him i said hello too.”

yuuji nods, stuffing his hands in his pocket as he steps away. “i will!” his cheerful gaze is pinned on your husband, a secretive smile making a home on his lips. “bye, dad.”

kento shakes his head, and sighs again, though you can tell, a part of him is touched to have won so much of yuuji's admiration. “have a good evening, itadori.”

you watch the young boy scurry away, hands in his pockets as he braces himself against the cold.

"you should be nicer to your son, kento."

kento snorts, throwing an arm over your shoulder as he brings you closer to him. "i am nice to him," he says, kissing your temple softly. "a little hard on him, maybe, but i just don't want anything bad to happen to him."

you soften, look up at him with warm eyes, and you squeeze the hand that is resting on your shoulder. "i know," you say, your heart clenching. you've thought about it before, thought of kento with a tiny child that looks just like him, cradled against his chest. thought of him with a little girl whose hair he can braid, a little boy he can raise to be a gentleman.

but you hadn't talked about it; you'd always thought your life was too busy, too dangerous for children.

"you'd make a good dad, ken," you say, your cheeks flushed as you grin at him.

kento's eyes flash. "really?" an array of emotions scurries across his features before he leans down, kissing you softly. "is this your way of telling me you want a baby, sweetheart?" his voice deepens as he whispers against your lips, smiling. "because i'm more than happy to give you one."

[lecsainz]

A headcanon of Percy Jackson x reader daughter of Zeus, where he has been in love since the first day he saw her, and he had also recently arrived at the camp, please

˒ ⌕ SHE IS LIKE THUNDER

parings: percy jackson x zeus!reader

an:I know I disappeared, forgive me 🤧, but picture me writing this at 3 AM, dying of sleepiness after watching the last episode of PJO, AND ANNIE USED THE NICKNAME 😭 THIS EPISODE IS STILL TOO MUCH FOR ME TO PROCESS!!!!

summary: the one where you're a daughter of zeus, exploring your relationship with percy.

( my last work || my last work for riodanverse || go to main masterlist )

You and Percy crossed paths during one of your training sessions. Luke was giving Percy a tour of the camp, and when Percy laid eyes on you, he halted abruptly, as if struck by lightning. For some inexplicable reason, he felt an urgent need to know who you were, as if the gods themselves demanded it.

Percy's eyes widened as he observed you from across the training grounds. "Who's that?" he asked, pointing a finger in your direction. Luke suppressed a chuckle, a mischievous glint in his eyes. "Her? Oh, that's Y/N, daughter of Zeus." Percy squinted, trying to decipher your actions, as you accidentally summoned a small lightning bolt that fizzled out near your feet. His eyebrows shot up in surprise. "Does that happen often?" Luke grinned. "Only when she's particularly excited, which, by the way, is most of the time. You should see her during thunderstorms!" Percy blinked, watching as you waved sheepishly, causing another faint spark to crackle in the air.

You and Percy found common ground in venting about the gods upon his arrival.

"Hey, little thunder, how's it going?" Percy grinned. "Don't call me that," you replied, trying to keep a straight face. "I'm good too, thanks for asking, Lightning Rod," Percy joked, emphasizing his newfound nickname for you.

Attempts at using your powers together proved futile, as water and electricity didn't exactly make for a harmonious combination.

According to Percy, Cabin 3 was way too big for just him, and assuming you felt the same way about Cabin 1, he started a tradition. At 12:00, he'd show up at your cabin, asking to share it, turning into a routine of hosting pajama parties in each other's cabins.

After you discovered that your half-sister, Thalia, had been turned into a pine tree to save her, Percy couldn't resist teasing you about it.

"Do you think your dad would turn you into, what, a fountain? Or maybe a cherry blossom tree would suit you?" Percy grinned, enjoying the opportunity to rib you. "Jackson, shut up," you retorted, rolling your eyes at his antics. Later, when Grover and Annabeth intervened, trying to keep you two from frying each other, Percy couldn't resist a parting shot. He had soaked you with water from a nearby forest stream during the mission, leaving you drenched and fueling your desire to electrocute him. "Next time you want to electrocute Percy, make sure I'm not around," Annabeth teased as they separated you, noticing your soaked state. Grover, being the peacekeeper, started singing the song of friendship, encouraging both of you to hug it out and apologize. Percy, however, observed that you were shivering from the cold as you walked. Realizing this, he handed you his jacket, concerned. "You'll catch a cold if you stay wet like this," he said, offering you warmth amidst the chilly aftermath of your water-based altercation.

Since neither you nor Percy admit to having feelings for each other, you find yourselves in constant teasing and banter.

During a mission, you two start a squabble because you want to lead everything, and he just wants to do his thing or isn't paying attention to what you're saying. Grover and Annabeth exchange glances, seeking a way to mediate.

It takes a long time before you muster the courage to admit you have feelings for the son of Poseidon. You decide to confess first because, knowing Percy, it would take ages if you waited for him.

"Percy, I need to talk in case we don't get out of here." "Spark Plug, we're getting out of here; trust me." "I like you, Seaweed Brain." He stands there in shock, mouth hanging open, unable to believe that you like him back.

After Percy managed to confess that he also liked you, you enjoyed teasing him about his stunned reaction. But deep down, you were terrified that he might have said he didn't like you back.

Percy becomes incredibly protective of you.

"Touch her, and you'll be dead."

You love stormy days and spend hours on the beach with Percy because he can control the water, ensuring you both stay dry.

"Isn't it beautiful?" "What, little storm?" You pause, gazing out at the tumultuous sea, the waves crashing against the shore. "It's like the ocean is in harmony with this storm. It's as if they understand each other, finding peace in the chaos." "Maybe," Percy finally responds, a soft smile playing on his lips. "Maybe storms and the sea have a way of finding peace in chaos because they understand that even in the wildest moments, there's a certain kind of order."

You appreciate the profound simplicity of his words, and in that moment, he wraps his arms around you from behind, resting his head on your shoulder. For the first time in a long while, you feel at home

[stars-and-clouds]

Astarion Romance Headcanons 🥀

SFW:

Side glances when you're besides him

Full on staring when you're not

Immediately looking away when you catch him

"You know the way he looks at you, don't you, soldier?"

His pinky itching towards yours when you're walking, wanting to hold your hand but unsure because, is it too much? Will you reject him?

His hands scrunching up your shirt tightly whenever you hug. He's always the last to let go.

You hold on longer and longer each time because he doesn't want to let go.

His kisses are tender and needy.

He likes the warmth of your hands.

Thinking of what tones will suit your perfume the best. He'll gift it to you after all this is over.

He'll sew the holes or tears in your clothes over the night and pretend he doesn't know what happened next morning.

When you move to kiss his cheek he will grimace in annoyance but lean in as you do it.

"Be careful around Astarion, (Tav). He's not serious about you.", the others will warn you. And Astarion will worry you'll heed their words more than his so he'll do so much to prove his love to you, not knowing that you already trust him (even if that is an objectively stupid thing to do lmao).

He started sleeping next to you from the moment you had sex but ever since you've entered the shadowlands, he ends up cuddling in the middle of the night. He misses the sun.

He likes kissing the palm of your hand or its back.

Likes to pack your bag before you leave camp.

"No one's ever going to love me like that again."

Ever since you told him that there's more to him than just beauty and sex, that he's hilarious, for instance, he finds ways to make you laugh. He loves it. He's started being a lot more sarcastic and makes more jokes just to hear your laughter. He'll never admit it, of course. Other than maybe when it's only you two.

Doesn't believe he will be able to love again if you let go of him.

"Don't be so nice to me." he says with round, needy and pleading eyes.

Thinking of ways he can show others you're together so others know you're not available.

Hiding his jealousy, terribly.

He will rip the throat out of anyone with malicious intent towards you.

"I will wait the whole of my life for you, Astarion." He doesn't believe it at first, but the longer you go on without sex the safer he feels and the more he wants you.

NSFW:

He sometimes cries silently at night, wishing he could make love to you without it feeling so tainted. He wants it so badly, but his past experience prohibits it. The pain of wanting something and being unable to have it only because of himself is too much. He blames himself too sometimes. Wishing he could give you more.

"I don't mind waiting.", you'd say.

"I do. I can't have you, no matter how much I want you.", he'd say.

When you cuddle him sensing he's upset, he will bury his face in your neck to hide his tears. The smell of you is comforting.

Needing you everytime you're tender with him.

Getting aroused when you hug during a kiss.

Wanting to kiss your skin all over, to make you cry from pleasure as you bury your face in his neck.

Wanting you to hold on to him for dear life as you climax.

When he's finally comfortable enough and takes charge of his own sexuality, he'll be so needy.

Realising that the two nights he had sex with you were nothing compared to how good making love to you feels.

When you give up all control to him, letting him do to you as he wants, the pleasure is almost too much bear. The power he feels is palpable and knowing it is you who trusts him so much will drive him near mad.

He will lose control many times so you have a safe word.

You both think of the stupidest word possible as a safe word. Something that makes you both laugh when it's used.

He likes over stimulating you, making you beg and he'll kiss you to calm you.

"It's okay, you can do it, darling.", he'll say stroking you even further and kissing your tears.

"Does that feel good, my love?"

The more you beg the more he loves it.

He likes playing with your hands, holding them in his, touching your fingers, comparing them to his while you rest on his chest, still warm from him being inside of you.

Resting his head against your chest to hear your heartbeat.

Staring at your face and body intently. Taking in every little reaction you make and replaying them over in his head throughout the day.

Staring at you longingly when you're both with the squad, failing terribly at focusing in battle or conversation.

Getting aroused when you're covered in blood.

Seeing you fighting, in general, turns him on. The smell of your sweat, your rapid heart beat, the way your body moves, all of it now only reminds him of making love to you.

Telling you to say his name whenever he's feeling good and you'll chant it as you cum. He loves how it sounds from your lips.

Resting his forehead against yours as he's close to cumming.

"Look at me.", he'll command you.

He likes when your hands rake his hair, pull his hair, tug it whatever. That slight bit of pain arouses him. Better yet, if you bury your nails into his skin.

He likes to look at you falling asleep. It's such a gentle thing. How can someone so strong otherwise be so soft around him? Why him? Why did someone like you choose someone like him? He can't believe he has you.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/50833876/chapters/128419966 I am updating these hcs on my ao3, if anyone is interested!

[talaok]

Like a Virgin

Pairing: Joel Miller x reader

summary: It's been a really long time since Joel has felt the feel of anything else besides his own fist, and once you remind him how good the real thing is... let's just say it's hard for him to live up to his full potential.

warnings: smut| unprotected p in v sex, premature ejaculation, very touch-starved Joel, and allusion to oral sex (f receiving)

a/n: I don't know what to say lmao this is a thing for me ok, don't judge (and also you can't tell me this isn't accurate, like this man hasn't gotten laid since the moon landing probably, and you expect him to last? no way babe). Also I'm sorry about the title it's funny to me lol

Now this wasn't like him.

He hadn't done this in a long time.

The last time he had sex with a woman he'd just met (or any woman to be completely honest) he was 25 years younger and the world hadn't gone to shit yet... so yeah, a long time indeed.

But you were so fucking beautiful, such a pretty face with such pretty eyes, and god but that mouth of yours-

And plus you were new to Jackson, you didn't know yet about all the scary stories folks liked to tell about him, and you were kind and funny, and... did he mention hot already?

Just one night of letting loose, that's what he'd told himself, and then he was gonna go back to his old closed-off self, but for now... for now, he was too busy throwing you on his bed to think about anything else.

You were getting rid of your clothes and he followed your lead more than willingly, almost ripping the buttons off his flannel in the rush.

He bent down to kiss your neck as his hands hurried to your tits.

God, he'd forgotten how good it felt to touch a woman.

And when you let out a little whimper, he swore he had ascended to another universe.

"Joel please"

Fuck him, but he wasn't inside of you yet, and he was already feeling far too close to coming.

Guess fucking his own fist for two decades really does something to a man.

"need something?"

He was acting wayy too smug for someone who was feeling like a virgin all over again.

"Please- I need you inside me, Joel"

fucking damnit- he shouldn't have asked that, his dick was now really suffering the consequences.

He didn't risk saying anything else as he got rid of his boxers, but of course, you just had to come out and say:

"oh wow, you're big" with the sexiest fucking voice he'd ever heard.

"want me to stop?"

For some reason, those words elicited a criminally hot smirk on your lips  

"Definitely not"

You were looking at him like a starving woman and he had to look down to where he was moving his tip to your entrance to get away from you and your dangerous, dangerous gaze

He pushed into you slowly and god fucking damnit but the sounds that you made... those sweet little moans and whines you let out as your warm pussy stretched around him and hugged him better than anything he'd felt in years... he had no words for it- no coherent sounds could make it out of his mouth except for a few groans coming deep from his chest.

"Good christ"

that's the only thing he managed to murmur as he bottomed out and had to take a break to try not to bust his load right there.

"fuck you feel so good" you moaned, as your hands gripped his sheets "please move" you begged, your voice breathy and pleading, and godfuck he should have really thought about it before doing this.

"Joel please-"

"I just need a moment darlin'" he explained, closing his eyes to try and remember how he used to manage to last and coming up completely empty.

He could feel your expectant eyes on him so even if he sure as hell didn't feel ready, he did as you asked and started to move.

The regret reached him extraordinarily fast as he felt your walls tightening around him and as you cried out for him like an angel sent straight from heaven.

"fuck-" you moaned, looking up at him with doe eyes that made him wonder if you really just knew what you were doing, if you actually enjoyed torturing him like this

"god you're so deep"

Yeah, you definitely knew

"and so big-" you cried

He gripped your waist to try and ground himself as he thrusted into your fucking perfect cunt.

"oh my god-yes!" you moaned, your back arching from the bed as his thrust got harsher in the hopes that that would make you talk less.

"just like that Joel- oh-" 

And Joel was tough in a lot of ways and he wasn't one to give up easily, but shit you were making it hard for him.

"Please don't stop- fuckfuckfuck" you begged, shutting your eyes close at the feeling.

And that was it, he couldn't do it anymore

"please stop talking" he breathed, his eyes resuming their tour of your eyes, mouth, and bouncing tits.

"why?" 

"nothing it's just-"

And before he could answer you had grabbed his shoulder and forced him to bend down to meet your mouth with his.

Goddamnit.

"you just feel too good Joel" 

"fuck." he groaned, not able to stop his hips from moving no matter how much he wanted to "shit"

"what is it?"

"Jesus Christ I-"

"is there something wrong?"

"n-no just- fuck I'm sorry sweetheart"

And that's all he could say as he abruptly pulled out of you, his spend covering your stomach not even a second after as he growled so loud his neighbors probably thought he was getting killed.

"shit" again, he sighed, his forehead falling to your shoulder.

"oh" you couldn't help but smile as everything came together

"I'm sorry darlin'" he breathed, leaning away and standing up as shame filled every inch of him.

"It's just- It's been a long time since I've done... this"

You sat up, your legs still dangling off the bed, as you admired his handy work on your belly.

"And you... you're just real fucking pretty" he huffed a half-laugh "I'm sorry"

You looked up at him then, meeting his mortified expression.

"No hey" you smiled, placing a hand on his torso "It's fine, I understand"

"god this is embarrassing, I feel like a sixteen-year-old all over again" he shook his head

"stop" you cooed, gently caressing his skin, as a mischievous spark lighted in your irides "It's fine, really" you promised, "and besides..." you bit your bottom lip as you slowly spread your legs "you could still make it up to me, y'know?"

He groaned again, falling to his knees between your thighs

"that I can do"

[theroundbartable]

Arthur is stuck in a time loop.

At first, he doesn't really notice it, since every day feels the same anyway. It's Merlin's good morning that irks him, however, because Merlin tends to switch up the routine a lot. When then the topic of the court meeting is the same, Arthur knows what's up.

In loop three, he asks Gaius for help and the man explains that only a powerful sorcerer could do such a thing and that he'd need strong magic to break it.

The next morning, everything is forgotten. And Arthur researches on his own what's happening. He spends days at the library until one day, he's just really tired.

And so, he stays in bed for a couple days, and lets Merlin complain for hours. It's soozing in an odd way. As days go by, Arthur gets bolder. He approaches Merlin in broad sunlight, hands him food or flowers in front of people and receiving odd stares.

Arthur waits for Merlin's reactions and they seem rather hesitant if also positive. Yet, when Arthur finally gathers up the courage to confess, Merlin rejects him.

Arthur spends another few loops in bed, while Merlin no longer carries any memories of the incident. Arthur then asks Gaius dejectedly who the most powerful sorcerer is he knows.

And Gaius says Emrys and tells him the man lives in the woods, a two day march from Camelot. Arthur loses hope. One loop equals a day. He'd never make it. That is IF the man is even there.

On loop xy, Arthur asks Gaius again, during a different time of day, where Emrys lives. And Gaius answers: about half a day ride north, Sire.

Arthur is confused. That doesn't make sense. Why would Gaius say something different than last time? Gaius was clearly part of the loop! Unless he's lying. And each time he lied he just said the first thing that came to mind.

Arthur stops avoiding Merlin at one point and accepts that Merlin won't respond to his feelings. So, he approaches him and tries to discuss magic issues with him. While Merlin warns him of magic like read from a script, Arthur argues positive aspects. Because he's trying to talk himself into turning to magic to maybe manage to save himself if he trained himself in the arts. Even if it takes years of the timeloop.

Unprompted, Merlin hugs him tight and looks at him with so much affection that Arthur is sure Merlin likes him.

Needless to day, Arthur is more than confused. And Arthur notices another thing. Both Merlin and Gaius react differently to him, depending on how he talks. If he's positive about magic, they are eager to help. Merlin looks most carefree then. And almost like he wants to ... Well, what exactly?

One loop, Arthur tests the theorie: Merlin, I'm going to lift the magic ban.

Merlin stops in his tracks and stares at Arthur. Arthur repeats himself, nervous of the response. Almost more nervous than he was when he got rejected.

Arthur: merlin?

Merlin: why

Arthur: because magic isn't as evil as my father had me believe.

Merlin: is this a trick?

Arthur: a trick? No. I just understand now that sometimes magic is needed. And I need magic right now. *Explains situation*

Merlin: ... arthur, i don't know how many timeloops you've been through

Arthur: you believe me? Uhhhh... 200, probably

Merlin: ... I can help you

Arthur: how?

Merlin: because I'm emrys

[uglyducklingofthe2000s]

Brightness in The Dark - F1 Grid

Summary: Seb has been y/n's mentor since she was karting and now she's in AlphaTauri, but now he's gone and everyone sees the difference

Y/n isn't depressed. She's just sort of quiet, she still smiles and laughs a lot but she's withdrawn with Seb gone. She's just not as social as she used to be.

"Hey, y/n." Alex smiles as he walks onto the driver's parade truck.

"Hey." Y/n smiles lightly before being picked up suddenly by a pair of arms. "Jesus."

"Nope, just me." Logan jokes making her laugh a little.

The other drivers do everything and anything they can to perk up her mood. It works momentarily but in debriefs, interviews and press conferences. She's just so quiet.

"Y/n, how have you been?" Lewis asks, having been requested by Seb directly to keep an eye on her. He's pretty sure Charles had been asked too since the Ferrari driver is usually the first person at her side.

"I've been great. Finished in the points in the last race." Y/n smiles earning a smile and nod. "I'm really ok, Lewis. As much as your concern is very endearing to me."

"You're quiet." Lewis comments earning a sigh. "He's going to come back to visit for races and he'll always be a phone call away."

"He retired to be there for his family. I'm not his job anymore, he got me to where I wanted her help getting to. That doesn't mean I want you to feel obligated to take on the duty of mentoring me." Y/n states softly then sighing. "Thank you though."

"Charles is on Seb duty as well..."

"I know, he told me in Bahrain that he made a promise. Sadly he's not quite so easily spoken to and convinced. I'm sure I tell him I'm ok and in his head I've broken down sobbing on the floor." Y/n jokes earning a smile from the 7 time champion. "It only happened the once and it was at the party after Abu Dhabi last year...I don't think I've ever been the drunk."

"I think you cried on everyone that night actually. Yuki slipped on a puddle of your tears if I remember right."

Y/n laughs nudging him and shaking her head before Charles appears almost as if he has been summoned out of thin air. Lewis seems to take the opportunity to go see Valtteri now that Charles is there to take on babysitting duties.

"I hope you've came to tell me that Fred is begging for you to convince me to take a seat in Ferrari. Otherwise I'm not interested in talking." Y/n comments making Charles break into a grin since he knows she's not serious. "I wouldn't accept the offer, I have enough reasons for therapy."

"Hey..." Charles pouts earning a grin as Lando appears with Max.

"She isn't wrong, mate." Lando smiles while greeting y/n with a one armed hug before Max follows up. "Get a seat with Red Bull. Max needs someone who will put him in his place."

Y/n really does appreciate when the other drivers go to such lengths to make sure she is included, especially when she is more than aware of her changed personality without Seb there.

It's just F1 feels like it's lost it's sparkle without Seb. to her he added an element of life and passion in the sport that no other driver could ever try to replicate. Maybe she's bias to think that.

Max and Lando seem to disappear as quick as they appeared and y/n is left with Charles who softens slightly as she looks at him for a moment.

"Charles..." Y/n hums making him smile brightly at her. "You don't need to stay with me."

"I want to."

And that she knows isn't a lie, but she also knows he'd also rather be with someone else.

Thankfully her saviour comes in the form of the interviewer moving around talking to each other drivers and Charles is catch in for questions allowing her to shift quickly to a quieter more secluded part.

She somehow manages to dodge the interview, which she can only assume is a result of her more somber personality.

Y/n ends up walking alongside Yuki since they are teammates, thankfully while Yuki has noted her personality change, he doesn't let it stop him from talking enough for both of them. He's just about the only one on the grid who doesn't both to try and force her to pretend to be happy.

Out of everyone, y/n guesses it's best that he teammate make the least effort to perk up her mood. Plus really Yuki is one of the few who doesn't really have to try, he makes her laugh unintentionally and he's always got something funny to add to the conversation. Nobody could hate Yuki really and they certainly couldn't be in a permanent bitter mood through all of it.

Y/n sighs as she gets to her trainer who smiles lightly at her and clearly feels relief at the sight of her smiling back at him. But as usual it doesn't last long.

"I don't understand why I can't get over him not being here. It's getting pathetic."

"You should call him. Have a chat before the race."

That might not be the worst thing. Especially since the timezones aren't so bad that she'd be waking him up in the middle of the night.

"Hello." Seb greets hardly needing more than a couple rings. "Are you being miserable again?"

"You know there's a simple fix." Y/n mumbles half joking, half very much serious making him chuckle lightly.

"You did very well in qualifying.”

“P9?”

“You’re on AlphaTauri. Remember there is plenty of room for growth another year, for now you’re doing well to present yourself as a capable driver who got where you are because of talent. Getting into Q3 with that car should be treated as a miracle and that’s a miracle you achieved…it’s their worst car for a few years now.”

Seb’s motivational speeches never fail to perk her up.

“Thank you, it means a lot to hear that. You can also call off the boys?”

“They are not bothering you on my instruction…anymore.” Seb states earning a smile from her. “They just want to help you feel better. I am always hearing that you are sad.”

“I’m not sad. I-Oh my gosh, I have to go. The race.” Y/n gasps as she notices the time. “Are you watching?”

“Of course.” Seb chuckles since his daughters love y/n so much that they wouldn’t even allow him to consider missing a race that she’s a part of.

Y/n rushes her goodbye before almost falling as she jumps around to get properly dressed for the race.

She gets herself out and up to the grid, strategically dodging Martin who is aware of her lack of wanting to be involved with media at the moment and thankfully respects it, getting herself up to her spot for the anthem. As has became a habit, she is the first driver up there.

Y/n’s even beat the grid kids but it takes only a few minutes for them to line up and other drivers to appear. She does find herself between Yuki and Logan.

Annoyingly she sees the camera seem to stop in front of her with the screens showing focus on her as they passby before they can all move and she makes the quickest exit moving back to P9.

She gets her balaclava and helmet on before climbing into the car settling down in the seat as her seatbelts getting secured in before she radio checks.

-

“Hey, y/n. You did amazing today. P8.” The interviewer states as she steps up for media.

“P8 is good?” Y/n questions trying for a joke but her tone leaves it falling flat. “Sorry. Sorry. Yes, P8. Points, whooo.”

“How did it feel in the race?”

“It wasn’t bad. Probably not my best race, I think the track conditions, getting that rain part way through the race. I’m not really great in wet races-”

“She did amazing. Didn’t she?” Lewis asks making her jump and look at him slightly shocked at his sudden appearance. “Finished right me and I almost thought i wasn’t getting past with that defending.”

“Y/n was just saying she didn’t feel like it was a very successful race.”

“No. Stop being harsh on yourself.” Lewis scolds grabbing her shoulders and digging his fingers into the space behind her collarbones while she laughs a little.

It doesn’t take long for her to finish up with media and then she moves to the debrief. Then she sighs walking out to find Carlos and Lando awaiting her and she almost spins back into the AlphaTauri unit but her trainer is right behind her and forces her to continue forward.

“Hey, y/n…” Lando grins making her force a smile. “We’re kidnapping you.”

“Actually i’m a little tired.” Y/n tries but really she knows they’re not letting her escape. Maybe if it was just Lando, but Carlos’ expression and his history of never letting he let get away when he’s decided. “But maybe for a little while?”

“Perfect.” Carlos grins linking his hand to her own before Lando does the same making it clear that she’s not going to get a chance to make a suddenly break for it. “We are going to play golf?”

“Are the two of you to tired? We just finished a race.”

“Best way to wind down.” Carlos shrugs while she groans looking at Lando who just flash his dimples at her. “You had fun last time.”

“Because Lando fell over and took you with him.”

Y/n can’t stop he laugh that follows just thinking of the memory of their pre-season testing.

“Yeah, thanks for reminding me of that.” Lando comments sarcastically but he can’t help but feel like he’s been somewhat more successful.

-

One of the main forms of entertaining herself is purposely being bad at golf just to really get under the skin of the two men who insisted on bringing her with them. The worst part on their side? They knows she’s purposely trying to annoy him.

“Y/n…” Lando smiles moving towards her while she grins at him.

“Yes?”

“I will force you to play golf correctly if you don’t stop.” Lando declares making her almost snort.

“You’re so dramatic.” Y/n giggles before Carlos pats Lando’s back and declares he will show her the correct form. “No, no. It’s fine.”

“Y/n. Here now.” Carlos instructs almost seeming like he’s taking on a stern father.

Y/n decides not to argue and instead allows Carlos to direct her and shift her limbs till he’s happy with her position.

“Alright.” He nods then pushing a ball to her. “Show us what you got.”

“And don’t purposely fuck it up.” Lando adds then being nudged in the ribs earning a grunt and hiss as Lando rubs the newly tender spot.

Y/n decides to indulge them and not waste Carlos’ efforts and in fact that it a step further.

“Can you help me how to swing it properly?” Y/n asks making them both look at her for a moment in obvious surprise. Then they look at each other and almost fight each other scrambling to help her making her eyes widen as she steps back a little with wide eyes.

“I got you.” Carlos states unsurprisingly overpowering Lando with a final push away. “I can help you.”

Y/n is undoubtedly the source of more than one of the drivers affection so maybe she should’ve seen it coming. It's somewhat inevitable they'd have a soft spot and want to protect the only woman on the grid.

To her surprise, with Carlos literally just standing behind her and holding the club over her own hands, she (really Carlos) hits the golf ball so perfectly that her jaw drops at how face it goes.

"Oh my gosh! Ah! Oh my gosh!" Y/n gasps then jumping and grinning as she hugs Carlos before she moves to Lando who laughs and hugs her as she hugs him. "Ok, ok, can we do that again?"

"We can keep going with it." Lando confirms while she beams at him so completely overexcited by the fact that it was fun to actually hit it properly.

-

Y/n may have been mentored by the original Red Bull golden boy, but the current Red Bull golden boy is oddly affectionate to her. So it's not abnormal to see the two of them actually just stood hugging each other. Especially when they're being forced to do stuff by the marketing team since AlphaTauri and Red Bull are always getting pushed into making content for social media.

Neither of them are overly eager for separate reasons. Max just doesn't think F1 should be about online activity. Y/n because she just doesn't want to really.

"I think we need to finally make a compilation of the you two together." One of the marketing girls comments making y/n grunt and push Max away playfully since the two are more like brother and sister most of the time but slightly more affectionate because the two do just sort of enjoy their time together.

"Ew no." Y/n laughs then squealing when Max tries to mess up her hair. "Max Verstappen! Don't make my tell Daniel on you."

"Oh, you'd pull that card?" Max jokes while she grins at him. "Daniel likes me best. He'd be on my side."

Y/n hums since she's not actually going to try and argue about that fact in particular.

"Come on, guys. You two are half of the drivers for these challenges. Yuki needs you, y/n. Checo needs you, Max."

Neither of those are particularly motivating arguments but they both know the sooner they get the challenges and recording done, the sooner they are both able to get out of there as soon as possible.

So they both endure the challenges with the others before high-tailing it out of there, y/n being practically chased and shoved forward by Max to get away from the cameras.

"Food?" Y/n offers since she is pretty hungry and honestly she's not in the mood for a workout with her trainer or to be on her own, thankfully Max seems to sense that.

Rather than talk about her usual bad mood, Max just does what he does best. He yaps about driving and yaps about whatever else he can think of. It almost brings her a comfort, Seb used to talk for hours. Mainly about data while Max is about technical stuff, but they're like for like in terms of how long they can talk.

Taglist: @namgification

[luveline]

𝐚 𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐛𝐞𝐝 | 𝐞𝐝𝐝𝐢𝐞 𝐦𝐮𝐧𝐬𝐨𝐧

eddie fights to get his usually shy and moderately intoxicated girlfriend to bed when you insist on clinging to him at every turn. requested here. fem!reader, 2.5k.

cw intoxicated reader

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

You're holding onto Eddie's arm tight enough to leave little fingerprint bruises behind. He doesn't think he'd mind, and he doesn't try to slacken your grip as he helps you up the stairs into the trailer. 

"Do we have to be quiet?" you whisper. Or, attempt to whisper. 

"Nah, Wayne's working." He closes the door behind you and leans over your shoulder to put his car keys in the bowl on the sideboard. "Oh, hey." 

You've given up on clinging to his arm and have started cuddling his waist instead. Eddie feels his eyes go wide, peering down at you almost like he's worried you'll realise you're being bold and move away. You rub your cheek against his leather jacket and sigh. "I love your hugs," you say dreamily, words slurred but understandable.

This isn't news to him, but it's definitely nothing you've said aloud before. Eddie's your boyfriend, he knows you enjoy a warm hug, but he's your new-ish boyfriend, and you're one of the shyest people he's ever met. Half the time he kisses you and your cheeks catch fire. 

"Yeah?" he asks fondly. 

You break the hug quicker than he'd like and bend at the waist. Laughing unsurely, you attempt to untie your shoelaces, wobbling like a cardboard house in a hurricane. Eddie catches onto your shoulders to hold you up, but you can't last. 

You make a strange sound, indignation and admission at once, and put your hands behind you to sit down. You go down hard enough to make the kitchenette shake, trailer walls not especially durable. 

"Shit, are you okay?" he asks, kneeling down in front of you. 

You blink at him glassily. "Will you take my shoes off, please?" 

"Yeah," he says. He laughs and tries not to. "Yeah, I'll take your shoes off for you. Pass em over." 

You put one of your feet on top of his knees clumsily. Eddie unties the bunny knots you'd made earlier, neat and tidy, not wanting anyone to judge you for messy laces, you'd said. 

He slides your shoes off and gives your toes a squeeze. Sober you would blow a gasket, shuffling away from him with a flustered squeak, but drunk you must like it. You leave your foot on his thigh and offer him the other shoe. 

"Do you like my socks?" 

Eddie digs his nail into the second bunny knot. "I love them. Why, are they new?" 

Your socks are normal white crew socks with a black hem stripe, black toes, and black heels. You hum at his observation appreciatively, your hand straying to your stomach. "And my underwear, too." 

"How much did you have to drink while I was in the bathroom?" he asks. Eddie's seen you in your underwear, but it's still unlike you to allude to your skivvies while fully dressed. 

"Not much. Why?" 

"It's not like you to talk about underwear," he tells you, sliding off your shoe and giving your foot a squeeze just as he had the first time, thumb digging into the sole. 

You giggle and yank your legs up and away from him. "That tickles." 

"Sorry, sweetheart." 

"It's okay. I forgive you, duh." 

He laughs, thrilled to see you this adorable and this beamingly happy. He can make you smile like no one else, and of course you're not always shy when you're with him, but it takes time. Eddie wouldn't change you for anything, it's just a real nice thing to see you so proudly happy. 

And hopelessly drunk. You lay on the floor of your side for a moment, jeans riding up your calves as you curl in on yourself, your jacket falling off your shoulder. 

Eddie crawls to your side. He indulges himself, sliding his hand between your cheek and the floor to lift your head. You meet his eyes dozily, sparks of happiness to be seen in your dilated pupils and the apples of your cheeks as you smile at him. 

"Are you feeling okay?" he asks. 

"You–" you begin, not sure where you're ending, "I missed you." 

"You missed me?" You're loaded. "Don't worry about missing me, sweetheart, I'm right here. Can I ask you for something?" 

You nod hurriedly. "Of course you can," you breathe. 

"Will you help me get to bed?" 

You reach for his elbow, your hand coasting up the length of his arm to his shoulder. "Stay here," you say. You're pleading with him, eyebrows drawing together, fingers screwing up in the folds of his jacket. 

"You'll be comfier on my lumpy mattress than you are on the floor, trust me." 

"I'm tired," you say. 

"Come to bed with me," he says softly, mirroring your tone. 

"And we'll have a hug?" 

Holy fucking shit, Eddie's fucked. He thinks, I'm gonna marry this girl, cheeks aching with the effort it takes to keep his huge smile at bay as he helps you sit up. 

"I'll give you as many hugs as you want," he says, brokering a deal with you right there on the floor. 

You agree to his terms, holding your hands out to be pulled up. Eddie stands and pulls you, and you do your part, attempting to stand with a wobble as you go, but he's right there to catch you. Thus begins another round of clinging, your fingers braceleting his wrist, your hips on his. 

Eddie leads you down the hallway. It takes longer than it should, what with your face in his neck and your less than subtle sniffing. He smells better than you do, your shirt soaked with what could be craft beer but might just be a half a cup of cider, neither of which he pictures you drinking. 

"Who tipped their drink on?" he asks, pushing the bedroom door open with his elbow. 

"What?" you ask, lifting your head from his neck. He looks down at you briefly. 

"What happened? You have beer all down your shirt, babe. Did someone tip their drink on you?" 

"Robin did, she said to tell you it was Steve." You raise a hand to his cheek. It's cold, and it smells like your moisturiser. "But I don't keep secrets from you." 

He doesn't mean to melt under your touch. He has things he should be doing, depositing you in the bed, changing your shirt, tucking you in for the night with a glass of water and a bottle of Tylenol for your perusal in the morning, but it's a startling delight to have you stroking his cheek. You usually only do this when he's half asleep or you're very tired; hoping he'll forget, maybe, and forgetting your own inhibitions. 

"You don't?" he asks gently. 

Your fingertips slip from the soft part of his cheek up to his eyelashes. You don't touch them, breathing out the side of your mouth rather than in his face. Drunk but not enough to stop treating him with care. 

"No… except for last Friday when we went to the Hawk. I really did need to use the bathroom." 

Well, Eddie knew that. You're shy, that doesn't make you a good actress. "And now we have no secrets," he says, covering your hand on his cheek. 

Your eyes slip closed a touch. Eddie doesn't really believe himself, he's sure there's lots of stuff you don't tell him. He guesses when you need something to drink because you hate asking, and he can't work out whether you like hotdogs or if you're just humouring him when he makes them, but he thinks any secret worth having is one you've let him in on. 

He puts you on the end of the bed. 

"Can I help you get changed?" he asks, already turning for the wardrobe where he keeps your left behind pyjamas and miscellaneous clothes, washed and pressed and waiting for you the next time you come around. 

"You haven't asked if you can undress me in ages." 

He laughs like an idiot, scooping an oversized t-shirt and a pair of your pyjama pants into his arms. "Now, that's not true. I always ask, but half the time you're already getting there." He turns to you, finds you've disappeared into your shirt, elbow twisted into the bottom and arms slack. "Like that," he laughs. 

"Stuck," you mumble. 

He chucks your pyjamas down and slips his fingers under your shirt where it's folded at the top of your shoulders. "Lift your arms, sweetheart. There you go." 

He laughs again when he sees your rumpled hair and face, dropping your acidic smelling shirt on the floor. "There she is. Hey, gorgeous," Eddie teases, running the side of his hand down your cheek quickly. "Bra on or off?" 

"Can I have my shirt first, please?" you ask.

He loves you. Your shyness creeping back in despite his having seen it all before is endearing, and he wouldn't ever say no to you. "Of course you can. Do you need my help again?" 

"I think this part will be easier." 

You're right about that. You get your shirt on easily enough, unclipping your bra without help. Nor do you need help with your pants. 

Eddie strips off quickly, swapping jeans for plaid pants and his t-shirt for a ribbed undershirt. He stretches out day long aches and kicks aside your dirty clothes on his way to the light switch, flicking it off, only his lamp left on now. 

You look lovely. Makeup smudged, watching him move around his small room with your face propped heavily in your hand, a practically cherubic smile playing on your lips. 

He pulls back the sheets and grabs you by the waist, lifting you very slightly to encourage you up against the pillows. You look at him like he's a wonder, adoration softening each line of your features. Your lips part slightly, your eyebrows rise upward. 

He thinks it might be really special, to be looked at as you look at him. 

"Let me get you a glass of water," he says. 

Neither of you have managed to brush your teeth. Honestly, he doesn't think you can stand up any more to try. Water will have to do. 

"No!" you say, louder than you've likely ever spoken to him when he isn't tickling you. "You said we'd hug." 

"We will," he says, giving your hand a little shake where it clings to his. 

"Please, Eddie, I just want to cuddle with you," you confess, giving him the best case of the puppy dogs he's ever seen. 

Eddie thinks, Whatever, we'll just have to make sure we brush extra hard in the morning. He can't deny you any longer. He didn't stand a chance. 

He climbs over your legs and you tuck him in affectionately, ramming your forehead into his chest and throwing your arm around his waist with less care. You nuzzle in, a satisfied sigh leaving your lips as you get comfortable. 

"This is so nice," you praise, words sluggish, slurred even more than they were as fatigue weighs you down. 

"This is perfect," he agrees, easing as flat as he can onto his back, nothing for his arms to do now but wrap around you and hold you close. 

You sigh again. It's even happier than the first, your leg creeping up as you hook your knee over his hip. "I love you, Munson. Thanks for…" You yawn and rub your nose into his chest. "Thank you. I love you." 

"You told me twice," he says, lifting his head to give you a teeny tiny kiss on your temple. 

"It was true for both of the times," you mumble. 

Despite relaxing atop him, your arms are like a vice. He doesn't care, he really couldn't care less, 'cos if you weren't hugging him like this he'd be hugging you tighter. Eddie speaks against your skin tenderly, "I love you, too," he murmurs, sealing it with a punctuating kiss.

He rubs your shoulder, feels your arms give him one final squeeze. 

"Is now a bad time to mention I need the bathroom?" he asks. 

Your answering snore tickles his chest.

—

"Eddie." 

Eddie scrunches his face up. You look down at him, flustered, wondering if it would be better for you to run out on him and never see him again. He groans as he wakes, turning his head and distorting the stain of your lipgloss smudged the length of his neck. 

You nibble the inside of your lip. He doesn't seem particularly annoyed with you. But he is mostly asleep. 

"Eddie, how did we get home last night?" you ask, rubbing between your eyebrows. "You didn't drive, did you?" 

He'd had two beers, which wasn't too much for him to handle but is more than anyone should have if they want to drive themselves home. 

Eddie peels his eyes open. "Steve drove us."

"Oh. I'm sorry, I'm super embarrassed. I got kinda wasted, huh?" 

Eddie's hands slip under your shirt to wrap around your soft stomach. He pulls you in an attempt to make you lay down again. 

"You were very drunk," he agrees, yawning into your ribs. 

You put your hand on the other side of his head to hold yourself up. "Was I a handful?" you ask softly, brushing his bangs away from his eyes.

He smiles against your shirt. You feel the curve of his lips, goosebumps erupting underneath it. Shy, you gasp quietly and try to escape his hold, but he hugs you ever tighter, snuggling into your chest. 

"You were great. I missed sober you, though." 

"Yeah?" 

"Yeah. Drunk you doesn't get goosebumps when I touch her." Smugness colours his voice, his hand rubbing up and down your naked back roughly to chase away your shivers. 

"I wasn't weird, was I?" you worry, more than alarmed by the gap in your memory. 

"You told me all about your new underwear," —you groan— "and how badly you needed to pee at the Hawk." 

You drop your head on to his, your foreheads touching, your hand curling around his neck. "Did I do anything vaguely in the land of acceptable behaviour?" you mumble in defeat.

"You told me you loved me. Multiple times. Once in your sleep." Eddie sounds delighted.

"That's unfontunately true," you grumble, not really meaning it. 

He laughs and gives you a firm tug. "Cuddle with me, babe." 

You cuddle him if only to hide your face from the world, face in his hair, hands under his back. Eddie draws a path of fondness up and down the dip of your back, laughing at each new crop of goosebumps as they rise. He's sweet enough to let you forget the mess you've made for at least a few stolen hours that morning. 

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

thank you for reading!! I hope you enjoyed, please reblog if you have the time it makes a huge difference for me ♡

[sanguineterrain]

Jason is definitely the type to go feral over his best friend he hasn't seen in years. Hear me out: he's alive again, and not only that, but he's huge. Strong. People are afraid of him. So the reader is in town, walking the streets, and they meet again, maybe when he protects them as Hood. And reader is ecstatic to see Jason again of course and he's the same but also, all he can think is minemineminemine and I WANT YOU. mans is down horrendous for his sweet best friend that he missed and he's been in love with them for so long and now that he has them, he's not giving them up

idk if this was a prompt but i got inspired <3 thanks for stopping by anon

jason todd x gn!reader. feral jason i guess, but really soft jason. jason who yearns to be yours. jason who'd do anything for it, even if it meant one sided devotion... and also, jason who is loved by you. 1.2k words

****

"I don't understand why you can't come to my apartment."

"I told you why." Jason's posture is rigid but his tone is gentle. Because he has told you why he won't enter your home. Multiple times. Doesn't mean you don't challenge it every time you meet him on a random rooftop.

"It would be fine, Jay," you say. "I trust you."

"I know. But I don't trust everybody else," he says, words crackling through his modulator. That had frightened you at first; in fact, everything about a newly-resurrected Jason Todd had frightened you. From his height to the guns, you'd been sure that night in Gotham would be your last.

But then it had become clear that cheated death aside, nothing could kill his heart.

"You haven't visited in a while," you say.

You don't mean for it to sound accusatory.

"I know," Jason says. "Been busy. The Bats..."

And you knew. You knew the second you found out that Jason was alive that it would be like this, that he wouldn't be completely yours. He wasn't yours when he was Robin either, perhaps even less so.

And what's wrong with that? You have no right to ask him to be yours. To give you more.

But the recent distance has frightened you. Maybe it's for safety's sake, but your selfish heart wishes that he'd drop that for once.

Then again, there's always that dread in your stomach that perhaps Jason Todd doesn't love you the way you love him. And perhaps he never will.

"Well, I wish you'd call," you say.

This is wrong. You shouldn't be picking fights. Jason doesn't go dark out of cruelty, only necessity.

Jason sighs. "I can't. 'M sorry."

You cross your arms. It's chilly tonight.

"Do you even want to see me?"

He tilts his head. Dangerous.

"What do you mean?"

"I don't want to intrude," you say. "You're busy and all the stuff with B, I don't—I mean, I wouldn't hold it against you if you—"

Jason takes two long strides and closes the distance. You swallow the rest of your sentence as he backs you up against the brick exterior of an abandoned apartment. Your heart picks up. You're not afraid; the fear went long ago. You're just... something. You're something about Jason.

The last time you two hugged was after Willis' death. You'd wanted to wrap him in his cape, thought maybe that would make everything feel as small as he'd been.

Now, a foot taller and a hundred pounds heavier, Jason clearly does not need a cape. Right?

He takes off his helmet, lets it hang on his hand. His other hand is by your head. You lean back, let your neck go on display. Jason doesn't miss the movement.

"What're you doing, Jay?" you ask levelly.

Maybe he thinks you don't notice this distance but you do. You don't want to push him to talk about it, because as upsetting as it is, you're still strangers to each other.

You are and you're not. He died and he didn't. You grieved and you didn't. You burn and... you burn.

But you're tired of being and not being. You won't let him keep you in emotional purgatory. If he's done with you, he should just say so.

"If you don't want to meet anymore," you start, and let the words hang in the air.

"I—" he starts, then swallows. He tosses his helmet to the side. He doesn't touch you, just hovers inches away. Jason smells like lilac and gun smoke.

"I don't think you understand... my devotion," he says, voice low. "How much power you have over me."

Your eyes widen. "Wh—"

His green eyes reflect the streetlight like a cat's. The sight stops you short. Jason Todd is hot metal on a knife's edge, and it would do you well to remember that.

His hands curl into fists. He shakes his head.

"Sorry," he whispers like a prayer. "Not tryna scare you." His chest rises and falls rapidly. "'M I scarin' ya, sweetheart? Tell me and I'll go home, shake it off. Wait forever. I can be good. Won't want what I don't deserve."

"I'm not scared," you say, and it's the most sure you've ever been. "Not scared of you, Jay."

He breathes a laugh, like he can't quite believe you. His breath is warm on your neck.

"You'd be the first," he says. "The only one."

This, you believe. This, you have wondered some nights, knowing that even Batman isn't sure what to do with a son who lives with death on his shoulder.

"You don't have to devote yourself to me," you say, because that makes you pause. Who are you to be his god?

Jason laughs again, strong and sure. He sinks to his knees in front of you. His white streak glows in the light.

"You think it's a vice?" he asks. He rests a hand on your left thigh, testing. You lay your hand over his, so he holds your other thigh too.

He hums. "You do. You think you're holdin' me hostage."

Jason takes a shuddering breath and flattens his palms over your legs. Then he leans in and rests his cheek on your leg, nose near the apex of your thighs. Your belly flips.

"Let's make one thing clear. My devotion is my only redemption. 'S the only thing that makes me believe I'm not all rotted inside. Makes me behave. In this world and the next, I'm yours."

"I... Jason, you belong to yourself, not me. I don't—"

"You don't have to do anything. If it's too much, then I'll disappear. You can carry on."

You stroke the exposed side of his face. He looks up at you.

He is still. You have made him still.

"I'm yours too," you say.

He shakes his head. "You don't hafta—"

"Do you think being yours is a curse?" you ask, gaze sharp.

"Don't promise something for balance's sake," he rasps. "I'll be yours without you being mine."

Your heart is still. He has made it still.

"I'll keep coming back," Jason whispers, eyes wide. "If you're mine, I can't leave. Y'don't know what you're doing. Don't give yourself to me."

"I do. I'm yours."

His grip tightens around your legs. Jason shakes his head.

"Don't do it," he says into your thigh. "I shouldn't have anyone. I'm-I'm only meant to be yours. Nobody's mine."

But you know. You can slide your finger along his teeth and he'll wait with his mouth open. You can touch his edges and he'll turn his cheek so you won't nick your finger. He would sooner chew his own tongue.

"It's alright," you say, and kneel. You dirty your knees right alongside him. "It's okay, Jason. I know what I'm doing."

His breath hitches. Jason presses you into the brick, tucks his face into your neck. His arms wrap tightly around your waist.

"Sorry," he whispers frantically. "'M sorry. You can push me away. Sorry."

"I won't do that." You hold him and let him take you. "I know you're good. I thought—I thought you were pulling away, and I..."

"I was," he admits, muffled in your skin. "'M sorry. Was the only way I could think of to let you go. You deserve better. Couldn't think 'round you, honeylove. Knew it was a death sentence when I found out that you still lived in Gotham."

"It wasn't," you say. "Best thing that's ever happened to me."

Jason huffs. "You say that now, but..."

"No. I say it now and I'll say it again. Keep me, Jason. I'll keep you too."

[ddejavvu]

this is cheesy but when spencer and reader start getting more comfortable in their relationship and they exchange keys to each others places, reader starts going over while hes away. just to chill because she misses him or borrow something or get something she left. but then dhe notices his apartment is a little messy and he doesnt have a lot of food in the fridge.

the first time he comes home to a full fridge and clean apartment he's a little confused, but when he brings it up and she confesses hes just sooooo touched and appreciative.

the first time he comes home and shes asleep on the bed or couch or wherever he just MELTS. like an actual puddle on the floor kinda melting bc hes just so overwhelmed with love 🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹

Spencer Reid is, quite possibly, the smartest motherfucker in the FBI. As an esteemed profiler, he notices right away that you've been in his apartment, from the post-it note grocery list sitting on the top of what's in his trash can, and a lack of dust over his kitchen counter like there typically is after he's gone on a case for a few days.

He spots 'donuts' on the list, and when he pulls the fridge open, lo and behold, there's a bag of mini chocolate donuts on the top shelf. He smiles to himself, giddily so, more than elated that you'd remembered an offhanded comment he'd made about liking them so much, especially when they're chilled.

He remembers everything anyone tells him, but people rarely stop to listen to his own words. So often it can be cast aside as nerd babble, so knowing that you'd picked up on the small tidbits of personal information he'd given you makes his seldom-fluttering heart do just that.

He feels a little bad that you'd stocked his fridge and ran, but he doesn't have to for long, because when he heads to the living room to drop his messenger bag there, and restock it with a different book, you're snoozing in his chair.

It's a recliner, one he'd splurged on so that late-night reading would be more comfortable. You've popped the footrest up, but your feet barely touch it, because you're curled up closer to the seat. Your head rests on one of the arms and is dangerously close to slipping off, so he kneels by the armrest, joints cracking.

His face hovers millimeters away from your own, your breath hitting his cheek and vice versa. He smooths a stray wisp of hair away from your face, leaning in to kiss the skin it had been covering.

"Hi, angel," He croons, keeping his voice as soft as humanly possible. He doesn't want to ruin this, whatever heavenly moment that the seldom-kind universe has decided to grant him.

Your lashes flutter at the feel of his lips on your skin, and you turn your face to lean into the touch you don't yet know is there. He can't help but laugh at the way you arch like a cat to be closer to him, and the breathy huffs fan out against your forehead.

His slender hand comes up to hover beneath your head, because when you worm closer to him, it slips off of the armrest. He holds your head up but you're finally starting to stir from the movement, and you lift it to blink groggily up at him.

"Spence?" You ask, like you're verifying his identity and not asking why he's home.

"That's me," He smiles, dimples puncturing his cheeks. His hair is slightly sloppy, frizzed and out of place from the day's hectic activities. At his confirmation you hum sleepily, resuming your cat-like activities by shutting your eyes again, leading with your nose as you nudge your face into his own. From the angle you're at his lips can only pucker to hit an awkward spot between your cheek and your nose, but the skin there is warm and soft from a facial mask he knows you used last night.

"Morning," You grumble, and he won't inform you that it's 7 at night.

"Hi, sweetheart." He croons, unable to stand up straight before you decide you want a hug. It means his butt hits the floor when you lunge for him, and he laughs as he tries maintaining an upright position.

"Oh- ah!" He laughs, eyes scrunching in a gleeful smile-turned-laugh when you knock into him. He cradles the back of your head, feeling you settle into his embrace like he's your new reclining chair.

"'Missed you, Spence." You mumble against the fabric of his jacket that's covering his shoulder. He curls his fingers into your hair at your admission, stroking briefly through the strands.

"I missed you too," He agrees, "I saw you bought me donuts."

"Hm? Oh, yeah, I did." You recall, eyes already drooping again, "We can have some for- for dessert later."

"That sounds like a good plan," Spencer grins, but you can't see it where you're nestled into his shoulder. He's waiting for you to get up, not because he doesn't want to hug you anymore but because he wants to stand and move, but when you stay firmly in place he realizes you're sleeping again, and that there's no way he's getting off the floor in the meantime.

He could wake you, tell you it's time for a late dinner and ask you to work on the eggs so that he can chop up the add-ins for an omelet. He could corral you back into the chair and take the bed for himself, read for a bit after getting changed. He could do any number of things to make himself just a bit more comfortable, but instead he chooses to commit his butt to the floor, surely flattening it for all eternity. He scoots back carefully until his back is up against the couch, so that his less-than-perfect core strength isn't relied upon as much.

From there he rests, disinterested in using his phone and too far away from his bookshelf to read. But he finds just as much meaningful entertainment in counting the breaths that you release against his shoulder, as well as counting the different possessions of yours he can see scattered around his apartment.

Your shoes, one. Your water bottle, two. Your sweatshirt, three. Your snack, four. Your keys, perhaps the most meaningful possession of all, the spare that he'll never regret giving you, five.

[chamomiletealeaf]

how do you think the cod boys would react to you being on your period…. like i feel like a lot of those mfs wouldn’t let it stop shit … 😳🥰

Tbh I'm not into period sex or anything like that, but I think they wouldn't mind. I think Johnny would be the most into it though.

warnings: period, period sex, suggestive comments, mostly fluff

Johnny wouldn't mind the blood, as long as he gets to fuck you and make you feel good. He'd actually initiate it.

"You feelin' alright love?" He asks.

"Mm ok. Why?" You ask.

"Just curious. You cramping at all?" He asks, almost hopefully.

"No? Not really. A little achey, but, not too bad." You respond, looking at him with furrowed eyebrows, confused as to what he's getting to.

He makes a dissatisfied grunt and pouts.

"What's going on? You want me to be in pain?" You laugh confusedly.

"No no not at all bonnie. I just- know what helps soothe the cramps best." He smirks and you roll your eyes catching on after a second.

"I mean, now that you bring it up, I am feeling a little something." You walk up to him and wrap your arms around his neck smiling.

-

Gaz would be the sweetest, Price right up there with him. He would definitely love to lay on top of you like a weighted blanket giving you kisses and feeding you snacks. If your cramps got really bad, he would shyly suggest sex, only as a last resort.

"Honeyyyy" You sniffle, gripping onto his shoulder with him lying on top of you every time you get a pang of pain in your lower half.

"I know, I'm sorry sweetheart." Gaz coos, pecking your neck with little kisses while on top of you, his arms squeezing you tight.

"Hurts Gaz." You whimper.

"The meds aren't working hun? not the heating pad? nothing?" He asks.

You shake your head teary eyed.

Gaz takes a second to think and he gets noticeably shy, avoiding your eyes.

"Well, uh- I mean- there's another thing we could try. If you're comfortable of course." He mumbles.

"What is it?" You ask, desperate for any sort of relief.

"Well, uh-" He laughs shyly. "I heard that, well- I mean we could try having sex maybe- heard it can help with cramps. Only if you want." He stutters out quickly and you smile.

"Do you want to?" You ask, loving how cute he looks while embarrassed.

"I wouldn't be opposed no. Think it's worth a try- maybe?" He says, ducking his head into your neck, too shy to look you in the eyes after such a suggestion.

You lift his face up from your neck and kiss him.

"Help me get these off yeah?" You say, smile forming on his face.

-

Price would be just as sweet as Gaz, but more controlling, meaning he wouldn't let you lift a finger even to use the bathroom. Uh-uh, he's carrying you everywhere.

You accidentally bleed on his sheets and he wakes up not seeing you in the bed. He gets up, not noticing the stain at first until you walk back in with a wet warm towel.

"Oh. Sorry. I wasn't supposed to wake you. Just- go back to sleep." You tell him, embarrassed and panicked look on your face.

"What are you doing sweetheart?" Price asks, sitting up in the bed. It was pretty early, sun just rising so you both could see without the lights on.

"I- nothing just go back to sleep." You say, walking closer to the bed and pulling the sheets over the spot you stained his white bedsheets.

Price grabs the sheets and pulls them back, confused as to why you were so jittery and what you were covering.

When he pulls them back he sees a big red stain right where you were laying. You must have bled so heavily right through your pad/tampon that it woke you up. You look down at the warm towel you had embarrassed to look him in the eyes.

"Oh sweetheart.." He coos at you as he moves to stand up out the bedd, walking over towards you.

"I'm sorry John I'll clean it up. Just go back to sleep." You say, tears forming in your eyes from the overwhelming amount of hormones taking over your emotions.

"Honey come here." Price whispers, pulling you into a hug. "It's ok sweetheart no need to cry. C'mon let's get you in the shower hm? You want a bath maybe so you don't have to stand love?" He asks, rubbing your back while you cry to soothe you.

"But- the sheets." You sniffle into his chest.

"Love I don't give a bloody damn about the sheets. I'll take care of them while you just rest yourself now hm? Now answer the question, bath or shower?" He says, lifting your chin to look at him with his pointer finger and thumb.

"Shower, standing helps. Don't wanna sit in bloody water either." You say while Price wipes your tears.

"Ok sweetheart. I got you." He says, then picks you up bridal style.

"John I'm gonna get blood on you!" You squeal panicked.

"Oh hush- I don't care. You think I'm afraid of gettin' a little bit of blood on me?" He jokes reassuringly as he walks you to the bathroom.

He places you on the counter as he starts the shower.

"C'mon, give me those clothes darling. I'll wash them and the sheets. You'll have your favorite pajamas waiting for you when you're done. Just relax now hm?"

You strip in front of him and he lets his eyes wander. You look so beautiful even when you're miserable.

You hand him your clothes and he pulls you to him to kiss your forehead.

"And listen, if the shower doesn't help, I know another way to take all those icky feelings away." He smirks and you laugh.

"There we go. That's what I wanna see. Don't ever wanna see you feel bad baby."

-

Simon would be quiet, but always following you around right by your side just in case you need something. He's by your side more usual on your period, silently knowing what you're going through, so he makes sure he's always there and will do anything you ask immediately.

"Siiii" You whine.

He's immediately sitting up next to you on the couch to tend to you.

"Could you get me some tea please? Can't move." You look up pouting at him and how could he say no.

"Of course sweetheart." He says and immediately gets up.

He comes back in a few minutes with your tea to find you curled up in a blanket. He sets the tea down and quietly sits next to you and pulls you into his lap.

"Hey you ok lovie?" He asks and you stay silent, as if it hurts to even speak.

"Hey. What do you need baby?" He asks while brushing your hair from your eyes.

You turn into his chest and close your eyes.

"You wanna take a nap? I'll stay right here with you." He says and you shake your head.

"No? Ok hun. What do you want then? Can't give you what you need if you don't tell me sweetheart."

"Hurts." Is all you say, and you shift in his lap right on his cock and he grunts a little.

You look up at him with wide eyes hoping he'll get what you're saying.

"I know love, I know." He says. "You need me to rub your back? Show me where it hurts bun'."

You grab his hand and move his hands to your sore breasts.

"Aw they sore?" He gently squeezes and kneads your tits with one hand and you whine.

"Yeah. That feels good." You say, whimpering when he squeezes too hard.

"You need more love? Need me to fuck the cramps away?" He coos and you nod.

"Ok bun', let's get you on your back hm? All you gotta do is relax alright?"

You nod your head and close your eyes, letting Simon give you what you need.

[sockmeat]

Hello! Can you write something about lucifer (from hazbin hotel) with a s/o (gn or f reader) who announces she's pregnant with his kid to him and to Charlie? Thanks <33

                                                        𓆩♡𓆪

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𝐅𝐄𝐌 𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐄𝐑 -- 𝐀𝐧𝐧𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐜𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐠𝐧𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐲 𝐭𝐨 𝐋𝐮𝐜𝐢𝐟𝐞𝐫 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐞… (𝑯𝒂𝒛𝒃𝒊𝒏 𝑯𝒐𝒕𝒆𝒍)

(𝐰𝐜): 463

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: You recently learned that you're pregnant with Lucifer's child and can't wait to announce it to Lucifer and Charlie.

(𝐀/𝐍): Pregnancy posts are hard lowkey my search history's looking wack rn

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠(𝐬): Reader's preg, mention of nausea (literally just saying you've had nausea)

                                                        𓆩♡𓆪

♡ You are so excited!

♡ For some time, you've aching, constantly tired, and nauseous off your ass.

♡ But last night, you finally had the nerve to take a pregnancy test and it came out positive.

♡ You've been absolutely aching to tell Lucifer, but you had the sudden idea to tell Lucifer and Charlie at the same time, so you had to wait a few days.

♡ Lucifer noticed your behavior.

♡ He'd tease you about it like you were falling for him all over again and acting like you two were hiding from your parents, but he would always try to sneak up on you and scare you suddenly as if that would make you confess what you were so happy about.

♡ Waiting for the meeting you planned was absolutely agonizing.

♡ You were on the verge of just telling Lucifer and his probing didn't help, but you were able to hold it in until the meeting.

♡ You were wiggling in your seat the whole ride there.

♡ When you finally got to the hotel, you nearly threw yourself inside so you could begin the preparations for your announcement.

♡ You planned on dropping some hints throughout conversation, making a big deal of baking buns, and got a pair of shirts for Lucifer and Charlie--one that said "Dad of two" and another that said "Best big sister."

♡ Everyone else in the hotel had been given things to do so they weren't there. You were determined to make this moment special and having Alastor strangers around to potentially make it awkward.

♡ The day went off without a hitch! The two had picked up your clever hints and knew something was up.

♡ Charlie already seemed to understand, she looked as excited as you were, but Lucifer just knew you were trying to hint at something, he just couldn't figure out what until you brought out the shirts.

♡ You didn't have time to wrap them or anything, so you just told them to close their eyes while you put their respective shirts in front of them.

♡ Finally, you told them to open their eyes and got to see their reactions.

♡ Charlie reacted immediately, cheering and pulling you and Lucifer into a big hug, squealing that she's going to be a big sister.

♡ It takes Lucifer a second to realize.

♡ "Wha--are you pregnant? Oh my god--me too! I mean--you're pregnant!"

♡ The three of you talked endlessly about what you would do with the baby. The memories you'd make, all the clothes you'd dress them in, and how cute you'd make the nursery, everything.

♡ That night confirmed everything for you; becoming a part of this family was the best decision you've ever made.

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