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#I’m not sleeping these days like... at all
hoe4sports · 22 hours
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The world is growing
Alexia Putellas x Reader
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Summary: After a miscarriage, you are pregnant again hopeful that this time will be it. But this time, things are not what you hoped they would be.
Oh my god. Oh my god. Something is wrong. The midwife is taking an extra second look at the ultrasound. She’s stopped talking. She’s stopped smiling. She’s stopped everything. She’s just looking. Her eyes glued to the screen without as much as an emotion on her face. She’s moving the probe. And looking some more. Oh no. Not again. Your heartbeat was increasing. It felt like it was about to beat through your chest. You had miscarried once already. The first IVF attempt had surprisingly worked. Only to be ripped away from you after 2 months. No heartbeat. No baby. No future. You had decided that you were ready to try again just shy of Christmas. It was now May, and summer was fast approaching. Alexia had been stuck in traffic as practice had been running late, and she was just around the corner. You couldn’t even imagine having to tell her that once again; your body had killed her egg, her baby. The first time it happened, she didn’t say much. She was so supportive that I t hurt. But when she thought you were sleeping, she let her tears flow. How was she gonna react to this again? What was a third try gonna look like? Would she even want to go for a third try? You didn’t know if that was a possibility. Due to the poor state of her eggs, you didn’t get many good eggs from her, and very few of them had matured into good quality embryos ready for transfer. It had all happened in a short amount of time: from kissing her for the first time to buying a house and trying for a baby all in the span of 3 years. What if she couldn’t handle this? You got nauseous by the thought of it.
“Sorry, I’m just gonna go and get the doctor. Just wait here mrs.Putellas.” The midwife said as she stood up and walked out. You reached for your phone as you pulled your sweater down causing the gel to stick to the inside of your sweater. You didn’t care. You didn’t want to see the tiny bump. You didn’t want to let the doctor see the bumb. You didn’t want the doctor to tell you that your baby was dead. You wanted to hide the bump, and to run away so you didn’t have to deal with reality just yet. You had to once again tell Alexia that you fucked up. It couldn’t have been anyone else’s mistake. It had to be yours. You had been so careful, but you had that one piece of shrimp you shouldn’t have had a few weeks ago and you had a stomachache a few days ago without connecting in to the pregnancy. Alexia had insisted on seeing a doctor, but you insisted that you were perfectly fine. And now you were paying the consequences for it.
“Hola, mi amor, lo siento mucho. The traffic was horrible, so I parked upfront. Don’t expect anything but a fine” the Spaniard sang as she walked into the room, a little out if breath. Her smile quickly faded as she saw your serious grin. “Preciousa, are you okay, no?” She asked with a shaky voice as she pulled a chair out to sit close to you while she grabbed your hand. You shook your head as tears formed in your eyes. “Ale, she said that she was gonna get the doctor to come look” you mumbled as your head hang down. “Oh” alexia said as her good energy died out. “I’mo sorry” you said as you buried your face in your hands. “I’m so sorry, ale. I’ll do better next time, I promise” you said as a tear escaped your eye. “Amor, let’s wait for the doctor. It will be okay. I can get some time off and we can travel, just stay at a resort and relax in the heat, si?” She said as her hand touched your belly as if it was purely routine. “But for now, let’s wait for the doctor” she said as she kissed the side of your tiny belly that were still covered by your sweater. You nodded as you tried to distract yourself with the thought of going on vacation. Thailand would be nice, or Bali. Or south-Africa. Greece was also nice, but you had already been there. Cap verde was close and had lots of beautiful beaches. You sat in silence for a while until the door swung open again. “Sorry again, Mrs.Putellas, let’s take a look now shall we” the older woman said as she gestured for the doctor to sit down on the chair to look at the ultrasound. You unwillingly leaned backwards and pulled up your sweater awaiting your penalty. The midwife pointed on the screen and the doctor nodded. “Mhm, I see” she said as she moved the probe around on your belly. You held your breath terrified of the words that were about to come out of her mouth. You didn’t wanna hear it. You gripped Alexia’s hand hard and got a second of reassurance when she squeezed back.
“So, the results. Two things.” The doctor started as your heart-rate skyrocketed. Alexia gripped tighter in your hand and you felt her skin becoming somewhat damp. “First: Your little girl is perfectly fine, she’s small for her age, but she’s getting there” the doctor said as you gasped. Your little girl. A girl. A girl with long blonde hair and blue eyes looking like her mami. “A girl?” Alexia said as her eyes teared up. The doctor nodded as she smiled. “A girl, a princesa” she said as she smiled. She turned around the screen of the ultrasound so you could see your daughter. She was moving her legs slightly, but she still wasn’t big enough that you could feel it. “The second thing i wanted to tell you is, well, exactly that. Second. The second baby is also a girl. Twins. Most likely identical.” She said. Your eyes widened and your jaw dropped. “Que? There’s-there’s two?” alexia said as she scooted closer to the screen as the doctor pointed out the second twin. “Si, dos, correct. She was just hiding behind her sister, which is why she hasn’t shown herself yet” the doctor explained as she gave tons of information about how check ups were gonna have to happen more often than before. You didn’t catch any of it, as you were just releaved that the baby was alive. Your eyes were glued to the baby on the screen. Well, the babies. The girls. Your two girls. They were fine, healthy and growing. You were snapped out of your thoughts when the doctor and the midwife left the room to allow you to breathe. None of you said a word. The room was dead quiet.
“I-I guess we need to go shopping again” she stuttered while looking it you. You nodded. “Two cribs, two strollers, two carseats for both of the cars, oh my god! Do we need a new car to fit the girls??” She panicked as her eyes widened kicking your brain into action. “Babe, it’s okay. There is two girls. They are both healthy. Everything is good. We are all good.” You said as you stood up and embraced her. She held you tight. “God, I just can’t believe it. There are gonna be little girls running around soon. Not just any little girls, our little girls” she said as she wrapped her arms around you kissing the top of your head. “Yea, our little girls. And twice the love” You said as you breathed in her scent instantly calming you. “Our perfect little girls” she said as she placed a hand on your belly. «Our perfect little girls» you repeated as she kissed you.
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midnightorchids · 3 days
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I love you and your writing. It makes me so happy to read your works!
Imagine Jason having his s/o move in with him. Imagine all the possibilities.
Like arranging the furniture together, showering together, taking turns cooking.
Or taking power naps together. I love me some soft Jason.
Omg stop!!! You’re literally so kind! Thank you for sending all these little scenarios, I always have so much fun writing them. Also, my apologies for getting back to you so late, I hope this little blurb makes up for it, enjoy reading!
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Jason stares at the small key in his large calloused hands and then at charcoal door in front of him. This is it, he thinks to himself. He runs his hands through his hair and then shifts his gaze to your face, it’s beaming with excitement. Jason tries to hold back his smile, but finds himself unable to do so. He reaches over to your hand and gives it a gentle squeeze.
He’s waited for this moment for a long time. He’s dreamt of owning a place with you, of days where the both of you will go to sleep together and you’ll still be there in the morning. He’s dreamt of making you breakfast and kissing your forehead before you go to work or school and then have you come right back home… to him.
Jason’s emotional honestly, there’s something so tender and domestic about the idea of building a life together in this apartment.
The apartment, it’s not very big and the walls are an awful shade of grey. The paint is chipping in some places and there’s some obvious water damage. But none of that matters because it’s yours. It’s your home and that thought alone is enough for you and Jason to be happy.
You’re both sitting in the empty kitchen, unpacking your boxes and Jason can imagine spending the rest of his life here with you.
He takes a mental picture of the moment, tucking it deep in his mind and engraving it in his heart. He hasn’t been able to stop smiling since he walked in through the door, he feels content, at peace.
You and Jason spent weeks scavenging through different vintage shops to find the perfect decor and furniture. There were countless trips to Ikea and multiple trips to the mall.
All of it was coming together now.
The thought of saying “our home” instead of “my house” made Jason feel giddy. He finally had a place to call his own with a person who felt like serenity.
Hours go by and you’re still working on getting your new place sorted.
You’re both sprawled out on the living room floor, putting together your new coffee table. There’s screws scattered across the floor and bubble wrap on the couch. There’s music playing on one of your phones as the speaker is still packed away in one of the boxes.
“This is so much fun! It’s like building life size legos,” Jason suddenly exclaims and you stare at him unamused, the hours of working finally catching up to you.
“Shut up Jay! You’re talking too much, I lost my page again,” you reply looking back at the paper manual in your hands, trying to find your page again. Jason looks up at you with a small pout.
“Don’t be mean, you know I’m sensitive,” he tries to say seriously, but the little smile on his face says otherwise. you shuffle over to his side on the floor and ruffle his hair.
“Aw I’m sorry baby, I’ll be nicer,” you say, realizing it might be time to take a break. “Should we postpone building furniture for a bit, I’m starving.” His face lights up and before you know it, he’s already in the kitchen gathering ingredients to make you soup and grilled cheese sandwiches. There’s not much in the fridge, but he’ll make do with what’s there.
You stare at him from across the room and this time, it’s your turn to click a mental photograph of the moment. He looks beautiful in your new kitchen, his hair’s messy, it’s in his eyes and he takes a second to push away the bangs. Then, he continues working away near the stove, humming along to the song playing on your phone. You can’t help, but admire him. You look forward to seeing him like this forever.
You make your way over to the kitchen and take a seat on the island counter, opposite to the stove. Jason tosses the final bit of ingredients in the pot and lets everything simmer. He looks over at you, leaning against the counter. He crosses his large arms against his body, his face soft and relaxed.
“I’m really happy, you know,” he says, grinning, and you scrunch your face into a big smile.
“I know Jay, I’m so happy too.”
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princessbrunette · 3 days
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after a long and traumatic week, seeing and experiencing dreadful things — puppy!reader gets into the habit of needing john b to rock her to sleep. every night.
if he doesn’t, there’s tears — and bless your heart he understands. before these few weeks, he’d managed to protect you from it all. being shot at, stumbling on skeletons and dead bodies all for the sake of finding the next clue for the treasure that seemed so far away. at the time, and for your safety he had to bring you along — but as he watches your lip curl over, clinging to his chest back at the chateau — he regrets not finding a way around it.
“well sleep is important, bubba. you need rest.” he stresses, trying to ease you into relaxing as you argue against him. “c’mon. i know you’re tired. i can tell.”
“but i know i’m going to have a nightmare again! ugh.” in a moment of stress, you softly bury yourself into his arm, sinking teeth gently into his tanned bicep.
“noooo you won’t.” he croons in that comforting deep voice of his, slotting his hand between your face and his arm so that he can stroke your cheek with his thumb until you ease up on your bite. you huff, flopping back into his arms dramatically like you’d died mid conversation and he smiles, softly manhandling you until you’re lying directly on his chest. “i’ll tell you why you’re not gonna have any nightmares, pup. it’s because i’m gonna be riiight here. all night. you’re gonna get all hot and bothered and wish that you had your own bed, seriously.” he keeps his tone lighthearted as you get comfortable, but his face falls when he hears you sniffle. “hey, i know.” he acknowledges solemnly, kissing the top of your head.
“jus’ nervous.” you slur, muffled into the fabric of his shirt and he nods in understanding. without thinking much of it, john b starts to sway your body left to right, gently rocking you to attempt to halt your tears. after a moment, you seem to quieten down. “keep doing that.” you rasp after a few minutes, barely awake.
“mhm.” he hums, trying not to disturb you as much as possible with his response, continuing to rock you in his arms. for the first time in a while, you sleep soundly — with no bad dreams.
because of the success in john b’s new technique — you started to require it every night. as soon as you feel the tiredness creep up on you, you’re crawling into his lap, making a rocking motion with your body to communicate what you want. doing this every night might become tiresome to some, but your boyfriend was filled with guilt — accidentally putting you in such dangerous scenarios lately that your body was now riddled with anxiety, needing the gentle motion in order to have a stress free sleep. whatever he could do to help you, to rid himself of the guilt — he would comply.
occasionally, you had required this treatment during a nap in the middle of the day too — straddling him on the couch with the shy request.
“get on in here.” he opens his arms to wrap around you, letting you burrow down into him. as soon as he begins to rock you side to side, your brain starts to power down, even able to partially ignore jj when he loudly strolls in, aware of your habits.
“damn, it’s rockin’ time already? a little early.” the blonde converses casually making the brunette frown and wave one arm at him.
“shh, but yes. yes it is.”
unable to control his behaviour, maybank begins to dance, moonwalking across the wooden panels of the chateau floor. “i wanna rock with you, alllll night.” he sings, making you groggily lift your head to blink an eye at him.
“are you done?” john b deadpans.
“oh hey there sleepy-pooch. my bad, go ‘head and take that nap.” jj busies himself with a beer bottle, grabbing it to settle down with on the couch, eyes latching onto the tv.
you’re fast asleep in a matter of minutes, the gentle humming of the tv mixing with the sounds of your soft snores. “damn, she’s out like that already? guess they found the cure to insomnia. hey, can i try next?” jj teases, lifting the bottle to his lips making the brunette shake his head, not even bothering to glance away from the tv.
“would you shut-up? maybe?” he mumbles in careless retaliation, just happy his sweet pup was getting the rest she deserves.
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hugsandchaos · 2 days
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Real quick, I just want to say that Danny Phantom only being seen during ghost fights is a little funny because imagine there being this ghost kid in your town defending everyone and himself from other ghosts who are almost always bigger than him, but as soon as he notices someone nearby or someone tries to talk to him, he vanishes and runs away. A lot of people think he had social anxiety or something when he was alive, or maybe he’s scared of humans because of ghost hunters, so most people don’t go looking for him.
One day a kid decides to leave a note at a park. The note was for Phantom, thanking him for saving a relative of the kid’s. To everyone’s surprise, Phantom leaves a reply for the next day. Here’s an example.
To Phantom,
Thank you so so so so so much for saving my dad today!!! I was so scared that he was going to get really really hurt, but you saved him!!! Mom and dad both say you don’t like talking to people because there are bad people who want to hurt you, so I’m leaving you this note! I hope you see it! Oh, and my mom and dad say thanks too!! I hope you have an amazing day and stay safe from the bad people!!
From Alex
To Alex,
Your very welcome! Honestly, I was scared your dad was going to get hurt too, but I’m glad to hear he’s doing well now. It’s true, there are bad people, but I’m happy that there are also good people who appreciate me trying to help. Thank you for not trying to find me and instead leaving the note. I appreciate it! Hope you have a great day too!
P.S. Would you mind keeping this letter between you and your parents please? Reading this really warmed my heart core, but I really don’t want to suddenly have a ton of notes all over the park. I might be so busy trying to reply, I probably won’t get any sleep. And yes, some ghosts do need sleep.
From Phantom
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undercoverpena · 2 days
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1. tie the knot
javier peña x f!reader* | chapter one of let us pretend
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summary: peña has been back in Texas for all of five minutes, thinking he wants a simple life. but, when steve offers him the chance to gather information on a potential new player, he jumps at the chance. the only problem is, to do so, he'll need to go undercover with a female agent—and pretend to be her husband.
wordcount: 4.6k chapter themes: fake dating/relationship/marriage, forced proximity / sharing one bed, colleagues to lovers, no use of Y/N, *female agent has a nickname (sunny) for use undercover. an: this week i am full of surprises. welcome to the world of let us pretend. this chapter might not feel different from htcu, but it is.
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All he has to do is pretend. Put on an act.
It’s simple on paper. Easy. A thing he’s already a master in, something he has never found particularly difficult or hard: pretending.
Javi, after all, had had always been pretty good at concealing, at masking—
“Y’need to pretend to be married.”
Faking being a husband was a new one.
Having lived with far too many emotions for so long, it’s not hard for him to fake nonchalance.
Colombia had been his school. The place where he collected his degree—days of pretending he was okay. Hiding the fact he couldn’t sleep the horrors away, that he wasn’t falling apart at the seams. That stress wasn’t making him chain smoke and the pressure wasn’t making him sink his cock into women he couldn’t save.
He picked up his doctorate when he returned home. When ranch life had felt so fucking dull it made him want to pick the smoking habit back up, just for something to do. When he saw boats that made his insides twist, but found he had to wear a smile. Hiding, as expertly as he could, so he didn’t bristle each time someone called him a hero—when all he wanted was a drink, a fuck or a newspaper.
Mostly, Javi had become a master in squirrelling away the fact he saw every minute of the hours at night, feeling nothing short of relief when his alarm chimed so he could get out of his homemade prison.
Bluffing had always been a skill of his. But, this, this was new to him. His bluffing had never required him to wear something shiny on his left hand and—
“And, Jav. Try not to fuck her.”
He’s not surprised that Steve heads up a department in Miami—or that he’s happy and content.
From the moment the two of them reunited, he took in the glow on his old partner’s skin (the one he strongly suspects isn’t just from the sun) and listened as he heard short (in Murphy’s opinion) stories about his daughter growing older.
Javi couldn’t relate—not that he’ll admit it. Just another thing he disguises. Smothers his face in what he assumes is what happiness looks like, wears it like an accessory, something akin to wearing a jacket, rather than actually feeling it.
Picking up a ring, rotating it between his thumb and finger, he snorts. “Wouldn’t be very husband-like of me, if I didn’t, would it?”
He’s nudged. An intentional elbow to the side sparks a grin as he places the ring back into its velvety spot.
Because none of them look right. None seem right—even for a fake thing.
“Fake husband. And don’t fuck this up.”
“I’m hearing a lot of don’ts and not a lot of do’s, Murphy. What the fuck is it you want me to do?”
He’s already been told, informed. Briefed.
Tricked in fact. Requested down here for an opinion, but when his worn-in soles landed in the office of his former colleague, it unravelled into something so much more.
Handed a file—one he knows everyone expects he won’t read—and given a rundown of what the operation is supposed to look like. But Javi knows better. Had known it too. Even suspects, Murphy does too.
One thing Colombia has taught him is that plans don’t mean shit, not when you’re up against an ever-evolving problem.
You don't just want me here for a consult, do you, Murph? Was hopin’ you were bored in Texas.
He suspects that’s why his Pop had given him an arched brow, an expression that was accompanied by pinched lips when he’d first mentioned it. Even his assurance that it’ll be a few days—just helping Steve out was met with a look Javi hadn’t banked on. Realising as he stood admiring wedding rings that his Pop had figured it out long before him.
At least now he understands why he got the Chucho-treatment—not quite quiet, but not quite the same treatment from him that he did the day before.
Instead, that kind of treatment that pierced itself into him, attempted to bury itself inside of him and made guilt flood through him like a poison.
Even if once before he would struggle with it, found himself desperate to apologise—make it up to his Pops—he didn’t this time. Because Javi already struggled. Already grown tired of itching for something.
So, he said nothing. Because he knows Murphy wouldn’t have asked if he didn’t need him.
Pinching the bridge of his nose, Murphy closes his eyes. The same noticeable twitch in his fingers and chewing inside his cheek that Javier can relate to: the sign of a recent quitter, and one attempting to use gum as a replacement.
Needing too.
“Where is she, anyway?” he asks, shifting the conversation, suppressing a yawn.
Before he’d even got on the plane out here, he’d been tired. Already beginning to fray at the edges, sleep had already become an even more distant friend.
All of it had been made worse by the worried look on Pop’s face when he dropped him at departures. It thickened, slathered itself on his shoulders even more so when he calls him from Murphy’s office to tell him it’ll be three months.
“You managed longer than I thought, Javi.” “Pop…”
Even though he had known it wouldn't matter, he had still tried to explain it all over again. From the top. All softly, with patience—the phone receiver leaving an indent on his cheek as he pinched the bridge of his nose. Reminding his Pop that this time he was doing his friend a favour, that it was a one-time thing—a few months, at most.
It didn’t shift the tone—didn’t stop Javi from imagining the disappointed lines bleeding into worried ones, mixing with the ones caused by age. It didn't lessen the tightness over the phone, simmering in the miles of air, because they were both at a standstill in the centre of a formerly (albeit temporary) happy situation.
Sighing, Murphy drops his hand, pulling him back from his thoughts. “She’ll be here, alright.”
Javi snorts, swallowing.
Glancing back over another table, seeing other things, other accessories. Things that’ll help him blend, help the two of you blend. You and him, him and you—a person he knows the name of and nothing else.
Steve had shared that you were good, brilliant, the only one he’d trust. That you knew the work so far better than anyone.
He’d been about to begin unpicking those earlier statements when the door opened, blouse and black tailored trousers walking towards him.
It isn’t anything cliché.
Time doesn’t stop, the room doesn't silence, but something happens. Something shifts, changes—alters. Because instantly, Javi realises you’re pretty. A thought which confuses him, especially when it dawns on him that usually, it’s a woman's figure he notices and admires first, but he finds that it's your eyes that he lingers on.
And fuck do they cut into him.
Practically reach inside of him, before they go through him, digging into flesh and fucking bone.
Then, all at once, ceasefire. A chance to strengthen his façade as you turn to greet Murphy, a handshake, a sea of pleasantries. Enough chance to shove it down, whatever attempted to rise in him.
But, he swears he can still see them behind his lids. Something which makes his jaw tighten, teeth grind—
“You must be my husband,” you say, smirk sliding up into your cheek.
Your body suddenly turns to him, hand sticking out towards him, adding your name to the statement as though stamping it into the air and his body goes clammy, grows warm and makes him suddenly desperate for water, coffee or even whiskey.
Slipping his hand into yours, he’s not surprised to find that it’s soft, the right kind of warm. He’d suspected about as much from just appearances alone.
“Agent Murphy has told me a lot about you, Mr Peña.”
Running his tongue over the front of his teeth, he eyes you. “Think my wife should call me, Javi.”
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Javi learns, rather quickly, that you have a nice voice.
It doesn’t grate, doesn’t annoy him—it’s informative, but there’s something else there, a playful edge, a little thing within you that hasn’t been crushed.
He remembers when he’d been as sprightly.
Rubs his forehead with the heel of his palm as he does, fingers desperate to clutch a pen, his jaw tightening as he thinks about how he could roll it in his fingers, hold it like he used to hold a smoke.
Fuck, he wishes he could chew his gum.
A thing which is slowly making him more tense.
Not that you seem to notice, too focused on getting him up to speed on the actual investigation. He’d read much of your notes before today, it was the next part he was more on edge by.
Because, whatever his earlier opinion of you was, he was getting the distinct impression you’d rather set your skin on fire than be fake married. A thing you stop trying to hide, your face displaying your disgust at it each time it is casually mentioned.
It was mandatory—Murphy’s words—for the two of you to get to know one another. A crash course, a 101 in the other. It’s told to you, that the two of you are going to be stationed in your new home for the next few weeks, starting from today. But, because they’re merciful—
“Wanted to make sure you had time to get to know one another. So, take the day—work can begin another day.”
“How nice of you, Murph,” he responds, words dipped in sarcasm. Briefly catching sight of you smirking as you study something on the table.
Javi had already imagined that—since it was recon, and more surveillance than anything else—for the most part, everything could remain the same. He learnt he was right moments later when it was confirmed his name would remain very much his own, and you were handed his surname like a gift you’d rather burn than accept.
It was you who had to surrender more.
“Y’need a new first name.”
If you were surprised, you didn’t show it. A sea of reasons given, the main one being if anyone asked around with a photo and your name, it would be easier to put two and two together. You lived here, for one.
You keep your eyes down, glancing over the table of possessions you’re allowed to borrow, to play dress up with. Fingers brushing over a watch (silver, a white face)—something haunting in your eye you’re quick to blink away when you meet Murphy’s stare.
Folding his arms, Steve sighs. “Jus’ something you’ll answer to. That can be used in public.”
Javi watches you smirk, something secretive, a hidden joke simmering between the two of you—leaving him very much out in the cold of it.
After a beat, you lick your lips.
“Sunny,” you reply, lifting your eyes, digging each syllable of the name you’re going to use into him.
“Let me guess you’re someone’s ray of sunshine?”
He doesn’t mean for it to fall out laced in bitterness, but it does all the same. His mouth tilted into a smirk, your eyes hardening as you placed down a pair of earrings you’d picked up.
“Think it’s more because of my sunny disposition.” He snorts, watching you move around the table. “It’s a family nickname—I’ve… I’ve always been called it, so, I’ll answer to it.”
Swallowing, Javi lets his eyes wander to the wall of the room.
“Alright, you two. You need to sell it, y’hear me?”
“Then we need money.” It’s short, stern, the way you deliver it, head tilted and face unreadable. “We’ll be sniffed out immediately without it. These people deal in money, not handsome faces.”
"So, you think I'm handsome?"
The roll of your eyes doesn't dispute it, not as you direct your attention back to Murphy.
Who, until now, Javi hadn't realised (with his hands on his hips) how big boss Murphy looked as he whispered fine, or how much it rather annoyed him. How it would be quite easy to give him a shove. More so when he’s handed a new phone, a set of documents, credit cards and given more instructions he wishes he could shove down his throat.
He almost gets close enough to do both when briefing ends and he’s handed the keys to the hotel suite they’d be living in—their story simple, easy:
“We have a fake house for you both being made ready as a cover story, but for now you’re both in the hotel. Prime location. Beach views, and very much in reach to the top places the targets visit.”
And, Murphy hadn’t been lying.
It did have good views, the suite was even nice—really nice.
Almost too nice for a little surveillance, a little fake marriage and a drug bust. But, he didn’t complain, barely said a thing in the ride over, or when you wheeled your own case. He even remained silent when you refused to look at him in the elevator or on the walk to the room, and even when the two of you entered.
In fact, the first words he said were: “You gotta try and look at me like you don’t wanna peel my skin off. You know, if you want this to work.”
He expects it; braces for it, the tongue lashing, an icy stare. Picturing you as the kind of woman who is already to sharpen your tools and pierce him with them when he blinks. But, you don’t.
If anything, Javi watches in slow motion as your shoulders sink, your cogs turning before your expression softens.
“You’re right—I’m… sorry.”
Biting the inside of his cheek, he nods. “There’s one bed.”
“Well. We can sleep in the same bed, Peña. We’re adults. However, for your sake, I’m going to put a pillow between us.” Your eyes sweep over him, cold, drowning him in a chill. “Two actually.”
“You a cuddler, or something?”
Smiling, you sigh. “No. The pillow is so that if you roll over all sleepy and desperate for some affection, I won’t have to cut you. Because if you touch me, that is what will happen.”
“How are we meant to sell we’re in love if I can’t touch you?”
“Oh, out there, you can touch me. In here, no.”
His snort rumbles from his chest. Tugged up, wrenched from some cobweb-filled depth, as you smile. Nothing big, nothing life-changing, but a start—the beginning of a level-playing field.
“What kind of touching, cariño?”
Jaw tightening, you smirk—but it’s cold.
He suspects you’re used to charm. Easily able to disable it, switch it off, unfazed by his gaze or the edge of his words. If anything, you seem really fucking bored of it—something he’s not sure if he admires or despises.
“Nothing like you used to pay for, Peña.”
Before he’s even recovered, he learns that you take things seriously.
Your bag opens, pulling out a notebook—upside down cursive etched over a page, your eyes scanning over it, before you ask if he’s ready. He’s barely able to ask for what, when you begin firing things at him.
Favourite food. Comfort film. Where did we meet? What song do you sing in the car when I’m not around? Are you allergic to anything?
The list goes on, and on. The more things continue to run out of your mouth, the more he begins to admire you—to settle into some comfort that you want to do this properly. That you’re going to take it seriously too, something he wants.
Needing it to matter.
Needing to have something work out easily, not have it all end for nothing.
The only time you pause is for a dinner—room service, his treat and his choice. A way of providing proof that he’d been listening, paying attention—somehow wanting to prove something to you, even if he’d known you for only half a day.
“So, how did Murphy get you on this?”
He studies the way you cross your leg over the other, the base of your heel tapping against the carpet—all very much guarded, on edge.
“You can tell it’s my first, can’t you?”
Javi smiles, making it softer purposefully. “A little.”
“He said you were good,” you sigh, placing your napkin down. “I assume I was chosen because it was easy. Y’know, than someone with… higher priorities. Plus, I already know the case. Guess it just made sense to send me.”
Nodding, he watches as you avoid his sight, focusing instead on the swirls in the carpet. Something ticking in your pretty little head, it forcing your nostrils to flare, for your jaw to tighten—and he’s watching it happen, practically feeling the air around you begin to vibrate from it all.
“M’not gonna let anything happen to you, Sunny. You know that right?”
That does it. Further digs in the hatred you’re feeling tenfold because the use of your new name makes you flinch. And he knows, like he had suspected earlier that it means more than just a name. Especially from the look on your face.
At first, your expression is soft, almost mask-less—no walls, no defence. Then, like magic, it shifts. It drapes down, rebuilds, and suddenly there within seconds, the same expression he’s been working with since introduction.
“I have heard how you take care of the women who work with you.”
Picking up your drink, and stirring the straw, you let your eyes meet his. The small wooden table suddenly even smaller—the large suite, suddenly constricting in a way he hadn’t expected so far.
“S’not what I meant.”
“I know.” It’s curt, your reply. Clearing your throat, you snort, “You are handsome. I can see why you did so well. And, I might not need to say this, but I need you to know I like my job, and I don’t require that kind of care.”
Rubbing his jaw, he sighs. “That so?”
“I have something that can help with that. It doesn’t talk. It doesn’t need to remind it that it’s ‘so big’, and it doesn’t need me to call it baby. It just hums—politely—and makes my thighs shake. I just need you to be with me in this.”
He snorts, draining the rest of his glass. The ice clangs just before he places it back down on the table. “You bring it with you, your something?”
Licking your lips, your mouth slides into your cheek. “Wouldn’t you like to know?”
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Steve had told you his credentials—how he worked, how smart he was. How easily he was able to decipher a read on someone.
He did also mention much of Peña’s backstory—including his rich history with the opposite sex. A thing you hadn’t wanted to let escape out coated in catty and wrapped in bitchy. And yet, it had all the same.
You did want to get on with him, you admired him after all. Hearing the truths from Steve made the things that swirled like gossip even more impressive.
But, in all of the briefings you’ve had before agreeing to this, your boss had failed to mention that it wasn’t just the man’s tongue that got women to confess all their secrets, but his ridiculously handsome face too.
The one that keeps turning towards you—eyes concentrated in on you as though you’re the most interesting thing he’s ever had the chance to listen to.
But, it wasn’t just that. It’s that he’s quick-witted, observant, and it most definitely doesn’t help that he’s all broad shoulders and brown eyed. That, in part, you thought you could handle.
Then, he’d flirted.
On any other day, in any other place, you’re sure you’d have melted. Likely leant forward, elbow on your knee, tracing your bottom lip with your finger just to make his eyes drop to your mouth.
But, this isn’t any other day—it’s work, a job, one that requires him (in part) to be a flirt.
Clearing your throat, you smear on a smile. “You not tried to date since you’ve been home?”
His face hardens, just slightly.
It pinching, eyes more so than anywhere else—his smile falling, descending to a thin line as he traces his teeth with his tongue. Then, his eyes shift into an entirely different brown, an explosion of shades swirling—flecks of gold and sadness-infused umber.
“No.”
Nodding, you pick at some salad on the side of your plate. “Probably a good job—don’t need any angry people coming for me when I’m curled up on your arm.”
He snorts, but it doesn’t flutter over his face. His hand remains balled up, resting on the arm of the chair—something more there, prodding, needling him. He may be so easily able to read you, but you’re sure he’s about as clear as a warm day himself.
Landing his gaze back on you, you feel it linger, hover—before it begins to slip down from your eyes, landing somewhere at your neck, before the buttons off your shirt. Something warming inside of you, flooding out, spreading across your skin as you try your damnest to level your breathing.
“Got any more questions?”
“Plenty,” you reply, almost catching the y on your teeth before placing a light smirk out over your lips, letting it move across your face.
Gesturing, Peña licks his lips and so you begin with more. Not needing the book now, just working your way through the things which populate, which appear like bubbles he bursts with his answers.
He’s open about some things more than others. The two of you covering family quickly, childhoods even quicker. You both discreetly avoid too many details of Colombia, about the things you’d already heard in chunks from your superior.
Your 101 beginner class in your new husband proving to be easier to understand than your field handbook—although, you supposed the intermediate and expert levels to him would be far harder to crack.
He’s unmarried, not dating—there’s his dad, a sea of distant family and a town full of people whom his father would class as family. You suspect some guilt there, it layered between the conversation on his dad, and the one which followed when you’d asked if the ranch would be okay without him.
“—My Pops has had help for a long time. One of them has been promoted. He… He works there full time now.”
Even if he had tried to say it simply, it was laced in bitterness—not from jealousy, you suspect from the sadness that had poisoned over time. A well stuffed with things which had rotted and gone mouldy over time.
Upon sight of him this morning, you had known you’d need to be clever, smart—find ways to compartmentalise it all. Because, when he traces his nose with his finger, when his eyes widen a little more than normal—coffee-brown all but drowning you—you had known it would be hard otherwise.
Something there, niggling, piercing through.
“Any lovers I need to be aware of?”
Smiling, you slide your feet from your heels, pulling your legs up more, swallowing. “No, you’re good.”
“Any potential risks I need to be aware of—anyone who’ll call into question your new name?”
Your stomach knots, uncomfortably so. A thing balling inside of you, that same fear you’d been plucking at for days—ever since Steve had suggested your name, thrown it out on the conference table with a bunch of greedy eyes seated around it.
“No, I… you have nothing to worry about.”
He looks at you, lets it hover, hold. Something there, trying to disguise itself in the way he narrows his eyes a fraction, in the way his lips pinch together—the way his brain seems to whir like a fan that can be heard even across the table.
When you yawn, he makes a move to tidy up the plates for the tray—batting your hand away. “I’ve got it, cariño.”
“Cariño?”
Your cheeks are warm, more so under his stare. Easily able to smother it the first time, but found it difficult the second. It’s all wide, blooming—it tracing your eyes before it sweeps back to the tray.
“Gotta call my wife something original, special.”
“I’m hardly special, Peña.”
“If I’ve married you, you’re special.”
Clamping your mouth shut, you say nothing.
Something churning, a horribleness that you know stems from the fact this isn’t real. None of it. The niceness, the ring on your finger—the one your finger slides up your palm to brush over, to trace.
The one which didn’t have a home there this morning, but now sits like it’s always supposed to. Your stare on his back as he goes to the door, pushing the metal tray, the jingling of plates and glass sounding out as your heartbeat pounds in your ears, your cheeks burn in embarrassment.
It continues to hammer when your back flattened against the bathroom door—safe amongst marble, mirrors and an array of complimentary products which covered most of the sink.
Only as you begin to undress and change for bed, does it lessen, does your composure return back to you. The mask which you so delicately applied, the one which had taken more words of encouragement in your bathroom mirror this morning than you’d thought.
Because, it isn’t that you thought you couldn’t do this—but rather why would you?
This isn’t your expertise. Not your usual field of knowledge. The last time you’d even been on a date had been at least over a year ago, and the last time you’d lived with a man had been so long ago you were worried you’d wake tomorrow and learn you have habits you weren’t aware of.
Did you kick in your sleep?
Did you grind your teeth?
“Cariño?” Peña calls out, knuckles tapping on the door. “You good in there?”
No, you want to reply. Hands gripping the sink basin, staring at your makeup-less face and the nightie he was about to see you in.
“Yeah,” you call out, washing your hands, and flushing the toilet before unlocking the door, and emerging.
He’s polite enough to not drink you in, even if you're sure he’s craning his neck not to do so.
“Look. Before you crack your neck from not doing so.”
Smirking, he traces his fingers across his chin, before slowly dropping his eyes.
And you feel them.
Warm. Hot. Sliding over your neck, collarbone, down the silk which covers your chest, abdomen and most of your thighs, before he’s running his vision back up.
“Better?”
“Nice legs.”
Narrowing your eyes, you straighten your spine. “Try not to dream about them, and Peña?”
He hums.
“Try to remember you’re not actually married, don’t want you falling for the fantasy we’re putting on. Hate to break your heart.”
Leaning against the doorframe, staring at you, you somehow manage to level your breath. “If it’s you breaking my heart, Sunny. I might just let you.”
Your mouth almost falls open. Almost.
Something you think he's aware of from the way he smiles, from the way he drinks you in before he whispers about getting passed.
Then, you're alone.
Filling your lungs with a breath, staring around the room not sure how you're going to make it a week not cracking, never mind more.
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CHAPTER TWO ->
AN: tag list won't be around from chapter two, thank you for letting me tell the story how i always envisioned. your kindness is appreciated.
taglist: @thetriumphantpanda @texassmiller @wordywarriorwrites @iknowisoundcrazy @thundermartini
@secretelephanttattoo @belliezz @picketniffler @thelightsandtheroses @sawymredfox
@toomanytookas @auteurdelabre @grumpygrumperton @noisynightmarepoetry @missladym1981
@maried01 @livswayout @casa-boiardi @msjarvis @perotovar @inept-the-magnificent
@copperhalfcent @morallyinept @inside-the-mind-of-a-wallflower @nabiiturner
@venturawriter @blablablasssss @half-moon16 @nerdieforpedro
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Text
Nettle Soup
Halsin x female reader 5,776 words of fluffy nonsense
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--
It had started as an innocent tickle at the very back of your throat, something you’d barely given more than a moment’s thought to - fair enough due to the fact you had a tadpole squirming around in your skull to contend with. A day or so later, it had graduated from a tickle to an annoying and stubborn irritation which very much demanded attention – wouldn’t shift despite how many times you’d tried.
It would clear, surely, you thought, especially since the curse had lifted from the land and you were on your way towards Baldur’s Gate at last.
Except it didn’t.
If anything, it got worse - like you’d swallowed handfuls of crushed glass, the way it stung with every swallow – accompanied by heavy limbs and growing fatigue, no matter how much sleep you managed. Perhaps that was hardly surprising after the number of fights you’d undertaken recently, not quite as young as you once were. 
Although not comfortable with the hitchhiker in your skull, you were at least confident it wasn’t the first sign of ceremorphosis, though the concern that Lae’zel may try to slit your throat if you voiced any notion of feeling unwell remained, so you kept silent.
You powered on, as you always do.
Gale frowned when you didn’t finish your portion of stew that evening, all sat around the campfire. He prided himself on keeping the party well-fed and anything but clean bowls appeared to be a personal affront to his skill. It wasn’t that you felt nauseous, just a lack of appetite made the quarter you had managed sit too heavy in your stomach.
“Was it not to your liking?” The wizard hovers over your shoulder. “While I’ll admit it is a repeated recipe from a few days ago, you enjoyed it well enough then.”
“No, no, it’s wonderful, Gale.” You smile, trying to appease his anxieties by laying a hand on your stomach. “It’s just filling – I’m stuffed already.”
“I recall you had second helpings.”
Oh, he had you there. Think.
“We had just fought Ketheric Thorn too, quite difference from the day’s leisurely pace.”
“Hm.” His pout remains, and the uncomfortable feeling in your stomach has been joined by guilt.
“Hardly a repeated recipe, though. I’m sure I noted something different on the palate?”
That did the trick, a wistful smile now gracing his face. “Ah, yes, I did stumble upon some splendid wild garlic that I thought would enhance the flavour profile – how kind of you to notice.”
You nod along, politely, as Gale tells his tale – something about how it elevates the spices - not noticing the wood elf staring at you curiously from across the circle.
You’re thankful it’s not your turn to keep watch as the githyanki takes her place in the centre of the camp, sword laying ready in her lap. You don’t wish to dawdle around the campfire like you do most nights, worried she might sense something off about you and jump to conclusions, so you bid the remaining members of the party goodnight and walk at a brisk pace to the safety of your tent…
..only for an icy cold grip around your elbow to jerk you into their own, your back now pressed against a firm chest with a thud.
“Surprised, darling?” Astarion murmurs into your crown, his other arm wrapped around your waist. “I thought you better than that. Where are you off to in such a hurry?”
“Bed.” You reply as brightly as possible, overcompensating for how rotten you’re now feeling.
“Oh, but the evening is still so young! I have a fine idea that will while away the hours, if you would be so very kind.” He drops his grip on your elbow and ghosts his hand up your side, making you squirm.
“Not tonight, Astarion.” You shake your head. Maybe it had been a mistake to let him feed off you after that first night. “I’m tired.”
“I can wait until you’re asleep, my sweet.” His hand finally reaches the back of your neck, giving it a slight squeeze. “I’ll be sure not to disturb any of your pretty dreams.”
“No.” Your tone is firm, maybe a little too firm as the vampire stiffens against you and drops his hand, causing your stomach to squirm with guilt once again. “Another night, I’m all yours – I promise.”
Astarion spins you around and you nearly lose your footing – a fact not missed by the vampire as his face transforms from annoyance at your denial to mild concern.
“My, you are out of sorts.” He sighs, before he plasters on a smile that you know to be fake. “Very well, darling. Off to bed you pop.”
You nod a thanks and hurry out of his tent, casting your eyes to the ground in the hopes of keeping steadier footing, only to collide into something firm.
A large, solid chest, covered in familiar druidic garb.
“My sincere apologies,” two warm hands grasp your upper arms, steadying you once again. “I am afraid I did not see you there. Are you all right?”
Your scalp tingles from the gravelly tones of Halsin’s voice, a warmth flushing over your cheeks as you look up at the former archdruid, his brow furrowed in concern.
“I’m fine, Halsin. And I should be the one apologizing - I wasn’t looking where I was going. Are you okay?”
He chuckles at your concern. “Of course. Although you have remained polite by not yet mentioning my stature, I am sure you have noticed the comparison between us, little one.”
Although one to lose your temper with the use of such pet names in inns or in combat, there is something entirely different when Halsin says it. You know it is not meant to be patronizing, more a sign of his age, really – it’s wholeheartedly sincere, affectionate, perhaps even… loving? Well, you could still dream, couldn’t you? Even though he’d kindly turned you down at the celebration for the tieflings at camp all those weeks ago, you’d be a liar if you didn’t still kindle a flame of affection for the large elf. You smile, wryly. “I suppose I have.”
“Forgive me for prying, but is anything the matter? You seemed in quite the hurry after supper. I confess I’d hoped to catch you for a moment.”
Your throat stings again as you swallow. Halsin is a healer - he would be the one to mention it to…
But you don’t want to be a bother, especially so soon after Thaniel. What was a sore throat in comparison to being trapped within the Shadowrealm for near on a century? Pathetic, really.
You shrug it off, “A little tired, nothing an early night won’t sort. What did you wish to speak about?”
He smiles at your response, though you notice it doesn’t reach his eyes. You wish you weren’t so observant of him to be able to identify which are real and which are polite.
“Ah, no, nothing of urgency. Please, do not let me keep you from your well-deserved rest any longer.”
You eye your tent in the distance, but hesitate all the same. “Are you sure?”
“Quite.” He squeezes your upper arms, gently, before letting go. “I bid you sweet dreams and a peaceful sleep.”
--
You don’t even fall asleep deeply enough to dream – tossing and turning for hours, one moment feeling too hot and then another too cold, periodically drinking from your waterskin trying to ease the rawness of your throat.
You give up at dawn, quickly dressing in your armor. Instead of waiting for your companions to rise, you set your sight on climbing the hill not far off from camp - it should provide a good vista of the road ahead to Baldur’s Gate. It shouldn’t be a long walk either, you’ll be there and back before even Karlach has roused, usually the last to do so.
You had only made it a quarter of the way up the admittedly gentle incline when you start to feel unusually winded from the exercise – it feels as if you are not quite breathing deep enough, oxygen stagnating at the top of your lungs. Perhaps you’d laced your armour too tight that morning in your haste to get moving? The sun is still only a little over the horizon, given the earliness of the hour, but you feel so very warm, a sheen of sweat already on your brow.
You raise a weary hand to wipe it away, but your vision swims in response and you stumble, all reflexes abandoning you and your face meets the dirt.
--
Halsin lets out a sigh as he rubs his back against the bark in his bear form, the ridges appeasing an itch that had been bothering him since he had wildshaped. It has been a while since he’d indulged the bear for purely pleasure and not combat – it hadn’t felt right to do so when traveling through the shadow cursed lands.
He’d woken early, as usual, and decided to take advantage of an hour or so to patrol the area before the plan would be to head towards Baldur’s Gate. Heading to the city wasn’t something he was looking forward to – to be cut off from the nature he so adored made he feel uneasy - but he’d made a vow that he intended to keep.
A familiar, invigorating smell crosses his snout, carried in the gentle breeze. He inhales it deeply, being drawn him from his thoughts.
White violet, jasmine, a touch of sandalwood…
You.
It is too strong a scent to have drifted in from camp, which must mean you’re close by. He drops down to all four paws and begins to follow the trail, curious as to what has brought you out so early and, perhaps selfishly, hoping to take advantage of your company.
He doesn’t have to travel far, though, lumbering a hundred or so metres out of the wood that lines the path. His stomach sinks when he sees you sprawled out on your front down the incline, unmoving, eyes open in a blank stare in his direction.
The next thing you were aware of was thundering paws on the earth, a flash of gold and then warm, heavy palms turning you over to face the dawn sky. A very concerned wood elf soon fills your vision, pressing a hand to your cheek as his eyes scan you over, frantically.
“What is it, my heart? Speak to me.” Heart…? The world goes black.
--
You wake up slowly. Your eyelids feel heavy, drifting in and out of consciousness until, finally, you manage to crack both eyes open to find yourself swaddled in unfamiliar furs and blinking up at an equally unfamiliar ceiling.
No, not ceiling, but the inside of a tent and one that is not your own. Various herbs and flowers are hung from the support pole across the top, seemingly set out to dry, dotted between other hand-made trinkets. There’s a scent of wood smoke, flowers, freshly cut grass, and something enticingly sweet...
You sit up in alarm, trying to work out where you are, panic rising in your already tight chest when your eyes meet those of the large wood elf’s, sat only a little way to the side of the bed roll.
“Ah-ah,” Halsin chides with a sympathetic smile, pushing you back down easily with one large palm upon your shoulder. “Please - you must rest.”
“This isn’t my tent.” Your voice is painfully hoarse, but you lay your head back on the pillow in defeat and watch as he tugs the furs back up to under your chin - the brief moment you had been upright a chill had prickled across your skin, almost down to your very bones.
“That is true.” The former archdruid nods, looking a little bashful. “We were camped at quite opposite ends this time round.” Your party did tend to spread the tents out across the ground you used, rather than all cluster together. “I thought it best to bring you here, where I have everything to hand to easily prepare, rather than go to and fro whilst I oversee your recovery.”
“Recov-” You don’t reach the end of the word as a horrendous, wracking cough emerges deep within your chest. You sit up again in panic, hoping it will cease. Halsin assists you with one hand on your arm and an arm around your waist, before he begins to rub large circles on your upper back.
“Easy, little one. Easy. I know it is uncomfortable, but it will pass.” He says, softly. It doesn’t feel like it will – the pain is sharp, a tightness in your chest, a burn in your lungs, heart pounding as you feel more and more breathless with every cough.
Tears burn at your eyes but, true to his word, slowly but surely, it begins to settle, allowing you to catch your breath at last and left feeling exhausted.
The hand leaves your arm then but one remains on your back, keeping you steady, before a waterskin is brought up to your lips. “Take small sips. If you drink too quickly, it might trigger another fit.”
You nod, reaching up a hand to hold over his as he tips the liquid into your mouth. It’s soothing on your raw throat, but only for a brief moment. When he deems you’ve had enough, he pulls the waterskin away, placing it back down to the side of the bedroll before pressing a hand to your forehead, a poorly concealed frown soon gracing his lips.
“You have a fairly high fever.”
“Can’t you…?” You reach out to mimic cure wounds – a spell you’ve seen him and Shadowheart cast many a time - but it seems even your depth perception has abandoned you as you brush up against the wood elf's firm chest, before snatching your hand back and circling your wrist in what you think looks a somewhat magical motion. Halsin lets out a chuckle that makes you feel flush – your temperature varying sporadically by the minute.
“Wounds and other injuries indeed, as can Shadowheart, but I am afraid for such illnesses as this the only treatment is rest for a few days, supplemented by herbal remedies to alleviate symptoms.”
“No,” you shake your head and immediately regret how it makes your vision and head swim. “We must press on - the Absolute are already in the city.”
He looks at you in alarm. “You cannot mean you wish to go and face them? You know I admire your unwavering resolve and strength to do what is right, but at the moment I fear a light breeze would be more than enough to knock you prone.”
“But-”
“No. I cannot allow it.” His tone is firm, a growl at the back of his throat – it reminds you of how he had spoken to Kagha once he’d returned to the grove. "You will rest. Lie down,” he doesn’t even need to push you back this time with a heavy hand, you’ve gone quite limp against the arm that had been supporting you, shrinking back at his tone of voice and nestle back down amongst the furs.
 “Thank you.” Halsin replies, sincerely, the tension dropping both from his shoulders and voice. “I… I apologise for my manner of speaking, but I know of what I speak - you must rest in order to make a full recovery.”
“I’ll try – I promise.”
He looks down at you with a smile before brushing some loose hair from your face and then cupping your cheek with a large palm and calloused fingers. If you’d had more of your wits about you, if you could think clearly, you would’ve noticed the flash of gold in his palm as he cast sleep upon you.
--
You wake up to a hand pressing a damp cold compress against your forehead and your chest feeling tighter than before. You can’t help the wince as you open your eyes, the light smarting despite it being somewhat dim inside the tent. Halsin is sat cross-legged by your side, a frown in place.
“I am sorry to have woken you, but I am afraid your fever has developed.”
“Oh.”
“I have prepared something that will help. Allow me to sit you up.” Somehow, he manages to slip his arm beneath your head and around your shoulders, assisting you upright to lean back against a pile of firm pillows. Once he is satisfied you are settled, he produces a bowl from his side – a waft of steam emitting off the top.
“Here. It has cooled enough to drink.”
“What is it?” Your voice is still awfully hoarse, a raw sting as you talk.
“A staple in every healer’s repertoire - nettle soup. Adept at reducing fevers.”
You take the bowl carefully from his hand, though his follows closely as you guide it up to your mouth lest your grip fail.
You gulp down a mouthful, but it’s absolutely foul upon your tongue, burns your throat as you swallow it down. It feels as if you’ve taken a gulp out of a particularly filthy pond, one thick with algae.
You hold the bowl back out with a shake of your head, hoping he’ll take it. “That’s disgusting.”
Halsin smiles, knowingly – seemingly a complaint he is not all that unfamiliar with hearing. “Whilst I admit the taste is far from what one might call pleasant, it will do you a world of good to drink it.”
You shake your head again, trying to hand it back to him. “I can’t.”
A deep chuckle rumbles through his chest. “Dare I enquire your age again, little one? The children in the grove manage it just fine.”
“I’m not a child,” you pout – too feverish to realise the contradiction of your actions. “And they surely do not.”
“They do…”, he retorts, a wistful smile crosses his lips, “albeit with the promise of something sweet after they’ve rested. Would that suffice?”
“Something… sweet?” Your mind drifts off to somewhere it should not as your eyes drop down to focus on the druid’s mouth.
“Mm. They are quite partial to honeycakes, does that appeal?”
You shake your head, placing the bowl down on the floor between the two of you. Though a fan of sweets, the idea of eating anything at the moment doesn’t entice at all.
“No? Well, perhaps you have something else in mind. I’m sure Baldur’s Gate itself will have something to your tastes.”
“I want a kiss.” You mumble.
He must have misheard. “What was that?”
“A kiss - that’s the sweet thing I want.”
“Ah,” if it wasn’t for the dim light within the tent, you would’ve sworn the druid was blushing. “Now, that’ll be the fever speaking.”
“No.” You gaze up at him, wishing you had the strength to curl your fingers in his hair and pull him in for the kiss you crave. “It’s not. I’ve wanted one since that night at camp, the celebration with the tieflings. I swear I’ll drink all the nettle soup in Faerun for a kiss.” “Since…” He trails off. “No, I couldn’t, little one.” He shakes his head, truly looking apologetic. “I won’t. It wouldn’t be right.”
“Why?”
He cups your cheek in a large palm, a small smile on his lips. “I do not believe you are quite aware of what you are requesting, given your current ailment.”
You purse your lips in thought, trying to seek a compromise. “What about when I’m better, then?”
He removes his hand and nods. “When you are recovered and if you recall this conversation and still desire it, then… yes, you may claim your sweet.” He mumbles towards the end, not quite believing what he was apparently promising. “However, you will still need to drink the nettle soup now.”
“Deal.” You acquiesce, and Halsin picks up the bowl in offering.
It burns as it goes down – all four or five remaining mouthfuls - but you manage the whole bowl.
“Good girl,” the wood elf murmurs with a smile – it makes the discomfort feel worth it for a moment - as he inspects the empty bowl, swapping it out for the waterskin once again.  
“Now, try and sleep some more. By the time you wake, it will have done its work and you’ll be feeling much better.”
You lie back down without protest, closing your eyes. The furs smell like Halsin and you soon drift off back to sleep, a feverish thought of being wrapped up in his arms and the kiss you hoped to claim come morning.
--
Day turns into night and then day once more, the hours passed with numerous bowls of nettle soup that still burn at your throat with every swallow, vegetable broth for more sustenance and countless naps to no improvement. Halsin has been trying to distract himself with whittling, but it is not proving successful – lopping off half of the duck’s beak when you stir momentarily. He’s checked your temperature with the back of his hand too many times to count. There’s a taunting rattle from your lungs between bouts of sharp coughing fits that doesn’t seem to be easing either. The nettle soup should’ve broken your fever at least – he hadn’t encountered one in all his years that it had failed to do so – but you seem to be growing worse by the hour.
He watches as you toss and turn, brushing your hair from your face. You’ve done so much for him – freed him from the goblins, ensured the safety of the Grove and its occupants, defended him whilst he recovered Thaniel, freed a realm from the shadowcurse of beyond a century and yet he cannot return a simple favour by ridding you of a fever?
“Is she sick?”
“Thaniel.” Halsin’s starts at the sudden appearance of the spirit. The boy is knelt besides him, staring down curiously at your slumbering form. “What are you doing here, my friend?”
“Your party hasn’t moved on - I wondered why. Is she sick?”
Thaniel remained as curious as ever, it seemed.
Halsin sighs. “Yes, I am afraid so. The fever and cough proves most stubborn – I fear I am depleting this area’s supply of nettles.”
“Nettles?”
“For the soup – it reduces the fever. Or it should.”
Thaniel frowns, leaning over you and taking a cautious sniff. “But she smells of spolar.”
“Spolar?” The word seems vaguely familiar, though it sparks a sinking, sickening feeling in his stomach.
“It will have been a long time since you’ve had to treat it.” The boy shrugs. “A large purple mushroom, remember? Its spores line the lungs – its growth accelerates if surrounded by nettles.”
“No…” It’s as if a hand is squeezing at his heart. “I don’t recall seeing any on our travels out. It would grow so quickly?”
“Nettles are sturdy enough even for the shadowcurse, so when it was lifted it had probably laid dormant beneath the soil until the time came. How long have you been treating her?”
“Nearly two moons – numerous bowls of nettle soup.” Halsin’s face has drained of all colour. “By Silvanus, I’ll have been nourishing the infection itself.”
“You did not mean to,” Thaniel replied, patting Halsin on his thigh. “Do not fret. Vapours from a wilted Sussur Bloom will clear the lungs when inhaled, suspending any further spread. Then she will just need rest.”
“A wilted…” He gets to his feet, his mind whirring with the next steps. “I must make haste back to the Underdark – I could be there and back by night fall with the aid of sigil circles.”
He hurries out of his tent, finding Gale sat outside of his, camped a stone’s throw away, and a large tome in his lap.
“Halsin,” Gale starts cautiously, setting down his book at the wood elf's urgency. “Is something the matter?”
“Everything.” The druid drops to his knees and empties out his pack – planning to stuff it full of as much Sussur Bloom as he can lay his hands upon. “I made her worse. She’s inhaled the spore of the spolar.”
“The spore of what? And how could you have made her worse?” Gale quirks an eyebrow, trying to keep up. He has never seen the wood elf so flustered. “I don’t understand.”
“Spolar… the spores line the airways. It feeds and thrives upon other vegetation – I’ve been giving her nettle soup. She told me it burnt and I insisted she eat more. And she did, because she trusted me.”
“Oh. Well, you didn’t know-”
“I should’ve known!” Halsin explodes in response, his voice echoing around their encampment. “I need to go to the Underdark, I-” He gets up to his feet and immediately stumbles, catching himself before he could fall. Gale is quick to stand in front of him, hands held up to try in a feeble attempt to stop the wood elf leaving.
“Halsin, when is the last time you rested?”
“It matters not-”
“It very much does.” Gale chides. “Look at you – you are in no fit state to look after yourself, let alone gallivant off to the Underdark.”
“What the hells is going on?” Astarion appears the other side of Gale, drawn out by Halsin’s outburst.  
“I must set this right. I cannot allow her to suffer a moment longer due to my negligence-“
“Okay, I’m sensing there’s a lot more to your feelings here, but allow me to assure you that we all care about her. Allow us to assist you, to aid you in whatever you need in this moment.”
“Will someone please tell me what’s going on?” Astarion almost stomps his foot, never one to be ignored.
Halsin sighs, running a large palm down his face. Gale is right – he is exhausted, unable to enter a state of reverie in the past days in fear of you needing him.
“A Sussur Bloom. I need to retrieve one from the Underdark.”
Gale frowns. “But they don’t work outside the Underdark.“
“Wilted ones, they-"
“Wilted, you say?” Astarion looks at his fingernails for imaginary dirt. “I’ve got a handful in my pack still, I’m sure.”
Halsin sets off running in the direction of the vampire’s tent and his pack, Astarion hot on his heels.
“Now, wait a moment!”
--
Halsin won’t look at you.
You’d woken up, confusingly, back in your own tent two days later to Gale sat by your side and your fever broken. Your voice was still a little hoarse and walking around the camp left you all but winded, but that was meant to pass in another day or two, then the plan was to finally set off towards Baldur’s Gate.
You’d felt bad for holding the party up for so long, but everyone has been rather kind about the delay, doting on you a little more than you’d like.
All but Halsin, really, who stares over your head – not a hard feat given his height, true – but still, it smarts when you cannot catch his eye, especially when it was something you used to achieve so easily. He appears to leave the campsite before dawn and returns for supper, though he moves away from the campfire when you take your place, thanking Gale for the meal before hurrying off.
It’s driving you mad.
Tonight, though, you have a plan. You took supper back to your tent, feigning the need for an early night to your companions and lying in wait for Halsin to depart the camp once more.
You find the elf stood at the very edge of the lake, standing in the shallow waters as it laps to and fro, hands held behind his back.
You approach cautiously, conscious of disturbing a meditation or ritual the ex-archdruid might be partaking in, but it seems he is already acutely aware of your presence.
“There’s a chill in the air tonight.” His voice is firm – you can imagine him using the same tone when he was chairing heated discussions amongst the other druids back at the Emerald Grove. “You should go back to camp and keep warm by the fire at least if you find yourself restless.”
“Halsin,” you choose to ignore him as you wring your hands together and take another step closer. “Have I… offended you in some way?”
“Offended? Never.” Still, he keeps his head turned away from you.
“I apologise sincerely if I said something that upset you whilst I was sick. I’m afraid I don’t recall much of the time in your tent – it’s all a bit of a haze.”
“That’s understandable. You were…” His breath hitches, as if it’s painful to remember. “..quite unwell. But, no, you did not say anything malicious or cruel – it is not in your nature.”
“Then why won’t you look at me?”
His biceps tense as he brings his arms back in front of him, his shoulders heaving up with a breath before dropping back down as he swings round on his heels. He meets your eyes for a second or two before his gaze moves back above your head, as if something was extremely interesting in the distance.
“There.” A forced smile – it doesn’t reach the wood elf’s eyes by a mile. “Now, will you go back to the camp?”
“No.” You huff, taking a step closer.
“Please. Your lungs are not fully recovered yet and the chill tonight will do you no favours.”
“I’m not going back until you look me in the eyes and tell me what I’ve done to be treated this way.” You stand firm, stubborn.
He sighs, seemingly exasperated at the conversation. “You have not done anything, my h… friend.”
“I must have done something.”
“You are mistaken.”
 “No, I’m not.” You retort back, placing your hands on your hips. “Ever since you healed me, you’ve been-”
“Healed you?” He scoffs, derisively, meeting your eyes at last with a furrowed brow. “Healed you? I did no such thing - I made you worse!”
You stare for a moment, bemused. “What? Worse how?”
“You said the nettle soup was burning your throat, you told me multiple times and I dismissed you saying it for not liking the taste, not of a symptom. Every time I had you drink it, I was giving the infection what it needed to thrive. I was killing you.”
“No.” You shake your head. “I don’t remember that.” And you don’t, everything’s hazy – vague memories of cooling compresses on your head, a supportive arm around your waist as you drank from a waterskin. “Why would I keep drinking it if it hurt?”
“Because,” he takes a shuddering breath, “we made a deal.”
“A deal about what?”
“I beg of you not to make me relive my shame.” Halsin sounds defeated, but you continue to push.
“A deal about what?”
“I… I told you of how the children in the Grove took their medicine under the promise they would receive something sweet when they were better. Honeycakes, candied fruits, the like. You…” His voice grows tight. “You asked for something else sweet.”
You feel your face flush, a hazy, whisp of a memory now becoming crystal clear. “A kiss.”
The wood elf’s shoulders shudder. “I took advantage of your trust in me.”
“Advantage?”
“Of your feverish state.”
“I’m the one who suggested the kiss.”
“And I’m the one who agreed due to my own selfish desires, ignoring what my patient was trying to tell me.”
“No, you thought you were doing the right thing. We all make mistakes, or misinterpret. I’m fine.” You wrap your hand around his forearm as best as you can, trying to tug him forward. “Besides the whole tadpole in my head, of course…”
He smiles, wryly, at your poor joke, though you see tears burn at his eyes. “I just… I cannot stand the thought that I have caused you harm, little one – intentional or otherwise.”
“You haven’t, Halsin.” You place your other hand tentatively on his chest and look up, feeling his heart beat beneath your fingertips. “I am well and, if you were still willing, I’m ready for my sweet.”
He shakes his head. “As much as my heart desires it – and it does - I do not deserve it.”
“Am I not allowed to be the judge of that? And I say a deal is a deal.”
“You… truly wish for it still?”
You stand up on your very tip toes and press a kiss to the underside of his jaw, as far as you can reach. “More than ever.”
A firm arm wraps delicately around your waist – cautious of squeezing you too firmly – and heaves you up easily against his firm chest, his other hand cupping your cheek as he captures your lips in a kiss. It is soft and delicate, as if he’s worried you’ll break, but when you lift your hand to tangle in his locks and tug to bring him closer and deepening the kiss, there is no mistaking the growl that emits from his throat when your tongues intertwine.
As soon as you drop your hand from his hair, he retreats too, dropping you back down carefully to the ground, eyes scanning you in concern.
“You’re breathless, my heart.” You feel your cheeks prickle with heat at the term of endearment. “And flush too. Please, I insist you go back and keep warm-"
You cut him off, pressing your fingers against his lips, exhaling breathily. “Two things. One, I’m breathless because of your kiss. Two, I’m flush because of your words - what sort of reaction am I meant to have to you calling me that?”
He lifts his own hand then to hold yours in place so he can kiss the fingertips pressed against his lips, before tugging your hand back down and interlacing your fingers.
“My heart, my love, my sun, my moon, my stars - so many things I wish to call you whilst I lavish you with affection from dusk till dawn, and dawn till dusk… if you’d allow me, that is.”
“Allow?” You smile, “I encourage – heartily.”
It happens too fast to comprehend, a gentle twist of your arm to twirl you in front of him before one arm wraps around the back of your knees and you are swept off your feet, the wood elf commencing large strides back towards the camp.
“Then I insist we return to your tent where you will have as many sweets as you desire.”
“Oh, my tent now, is it?” You tease. “I thought I had to go and stay warm by the fire.”
 “Yes, but, lucky for you,” he smirks, “I am known to run quite hot.”
--
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ktgoodmorning · 3 days
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"I'm fine."
Ona Batlle x Reader
You're overworking yourself more than you should be and Ona's worried about you. But you're fine !
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You yawned as you checked what time it was, sipping from your coffee as you did so. The clock blinked back at you, reading 5:00 am. Papers were strewn across the kitchen table as you regained your focus on your laptop in front of you, trying to finish all the work you could before your girlfriend was up and you both had to get ready to go to work. It was your fourth day in a row of this routine, up for hours getting caught up on your school work before going to work with Ona. 
You had recently been given a job working with the physios for Barcelona while you wrapped up your schooling. It was an incredible opportunity, something you couldn’t say no to, however it had piled on a significant amount of work. At the moment, your job was doing administrative duties for the physios, data tracking and record keeping to make sure it all ran smoothly. It was important for you to prove yourself so that once you finished school you could get offered a real physio job working with the players. But for now, you had your little office that you spent plenty of long hours in and that was all you needed, you just had to stay focused on your school work at the same time.
“Are you seriously up this early again?” You looked over your shoulder just to see Ona trudging towards you, still half asleep. Her hair was a tangled mess, voice rough with sleep as she made her way behind you, draping her arms over your shoulders lazily and pressing her face into your neck. 
“Oni I have to get all this work done you know that,” You kissed her cheek lightly, “I didn’t wake you up, did I?” Your free hand came up to rest on top of hers as she still stayed, hugging you from behind while you went back to your work. 
She shook her head in the crook of your neck, “how long have you been up? You need sleep, mi cielo.”
You let out a soft sigh, pausing your work momentarily, “I’m fine, I promise. I just need to stay caught up with everything. If you want, there’s some coffee on the counter but it might be cold now.” 
The brunette pressed a kiss to your cheek before standing to get the coffee you made. “Don’t think I didn’t notice how you avoided my question. And the way this coffee is ice cold has me thinking I really won’t like the answer.” She gave you a pointed look, a small smirk adorning her face, while you just rolled your eyes. “Will you at least tell me how many cups of coffee you’ve had so far?”
“This is number three.” She wasn’t sure she heard you correctly due to how softly you spoke. 
“Did you just say three?” you nodded. “It’s barely even 5:00 and you’ve had three cups of coffee. You’re obviously tired. Let’s go lie down, you’ve still got plenty of time before we have to leave. I’ll hold you, come on.” Your girlfriend stood up, immediately offering her hand, looking at you expectantly for you to join her in an extra hour of sleep. You cringed slightly, not getting up from your spot at the table but knowing she wasn’t going to like your answer.
“Ona you know I can’t do that. I can’t get behind on this school work. If you want to go back to sleep though, I’ll bring my computer and come sit with you?”
“That’s alright,” she shook her head and settled back into the chair next to you, slightly defeated that she couldn’t convince you, “I’ll stay out here with you, keep you company.”
“Thanks, love. Your company does make it slightly less miserable.”
“Well I’m certainly glad I don’t make it more miserable.” You giggled softly, sharing a soft kiss before she rested her head on your shoulder, watching you do your school work while she settled into your side.  
You knew you were exhausted and that Ona was right, but at the moment it was just the price you had to pay. There was only about a month left until you finished school, then your workload would be cut in half. The problem at the moment was the combination of school plus your new job that was killing you. You had to keep up with both, horribly desperate to prove yourself in every possible way. So if it meant being a little short on sleep, you could handle it. By getting up early and staying up late, doing as much as possible when Ona was asleep, it left you more time to spend with Ona during the day. The more you did it, the more your girlfriend seemed to realize just how tired you were becoming, but you just had to push through it for another month and then it would be over. 
About an hour later, you were surprised to see that your girlfriend was still awake against your shoulder. You assumed it was boring or uncomfortable for her to be sitting there that long with nothing to do besides watch you do homework and drink cold coffee, but Ona didn’t seem to mind. 
She remained snuggled into your side until her alarm went off, signaling that you both needed to get ready to go. As soon as you abandoned your work, you were back to your usual self, making conversation with each other and dancing around to some of your favorite music as you got ready for the day together. 
You had a little routine together where you often did each other's hair in the morning. It didn’t matter what it was, it was just a small way of getting to connect with each other and start your day off on a high note. So there you sat, in front of your mirror while Ona threaded her fingers through your hair as you shut your eyes and leaned back into her hands. “You always end up looking like you’re gonna fall asleep when I play with your hair.” she giggled at you.
“Yeah, it's relaxing,” you shrugged, “And you say I always look like I’m gonna fall asleep so it’s really nothing out of the ordinary anyways.”
“Hmm, that’s true, cause you never sleep, mi cielo.” Her hands carefully pulled your hair back into a low bun for you, making sure it was up to your standards before you switched spots to do her braid. Even though it was small, you were extremely grateful for this part of your routine. Feeling her hands move along your scalp always brought you comfort during your least favorite time of day. 
.
When you arrived at the training grounds, Ona walked you to your office just as she always did, carrying your bag for you and giving you plenty of kisses before she headed off to the locker room. The second she left your office, you immediately buried yourself in your work. The coffee machine in your office was working overtime trying to keep up with you while you only looked away from your work long enough to brew a new cup. It seemed as though your days of sleepless nights were starting to catch up with you as you continued to work harder to remain focused. 
Most days at work, you’d eat lunch with Ona. Either she’d bring her lunch to your office or, more commonly, you’d take your lunch to go eat with her and her teammates. You knew most of them, especially the ones she was closer with, so you liked having the break outside the confines of your office. 
But today you couldn’t do that. 
If you just spent your lunch working on your school work, you would have time to spend with Ona after you both finished working, which seemed like a much better use of your time. That way it’d be just the two of you, not stuck at work, able to spend some quality time together. 
So you did the one thing you almost never did, and shut your office door, signaling to everyone to leave you uninterrupted. Of course when it was fifteen minutes into your lunch breaks and you still hadn’t filled the seat Ona had saved for you at the table with her friends, she picked up her plate and made her way to your office, thinking that’s what you were intending on. You heard her footsteps stop outside your door, and watched as she seemed to just pause there, figuring out what to do. On one hand, she knew that your closed door meant you were busy, but on the other hand, she also knew it was your lunch break. 
When she finally made up her mind, she opened your door, ever so slowly, peeking her head through the small crack and finally seeing what had kept you from her- more school work. Upon seeing what you were doing, the brunette further opened your door and entered, settling into the extra chair across from your desk to eat her lunch. “Are you really working through lunch? No offense but you look like you haven’t slept in days, babe. You look like you could pass out at any second, you really need to take a break.”
“Ona, I’m fine. If I finish this now, then I’ll have time to spend with you tonight once we’re done here. Then I’ll take a break. With you.” You gave her a cheesy smile, hoping she’d accept your answer but still knowing she probably wouldn’t. 
“As much as I’d like some time with you, it’s not me I’m worried about. You need a break. For you. Look me in the eyes and tell me what time you went to bed last night. Or if you went to bed for that matter.” 
Of course she saw right through you and you should’ve expected that. Ona knew you better than you knew yourself sometimes. “I’m okay, I promise. I’m a little tired, sure, but I’ll be fine. I just have to get to graduation and then I’ll have a normal schedule again.” 
Your girlfriend was starting to get frustrated by your insistence and refusal to listen. She knew you were running yourself to death and needed nothing more than a break to keep functioning. “(Y/n) you’re not listening. That’s the fifth time in the last two minutes that you’ve yawned, don’t think I don’t notice. When was the last time your head hit a pillow?”
“Ona. I’m fi-”
“If you say you’re fine one more time I might lose my mind.” She took a deep breath, trying to remain calm and not push her frustrations onto you further. The defender quickly stood up, pulling you up from your chair abruptly, “That’s it! We’re getting you out of this stupid office! 
You knew there was no point in arguing with her, allowing her to drag you down the hallway into a lounge area when some of her teammates were scattered around the room keeping themselves busy. Some were finishing lunch, some of the younger girls doing school work of their own, others just relaxing together and hanging out. Ona pulled you onto a couch that had some sort of football game playing in front of it, many of the girls half-watching it. She immediately pulled you into her side, forcing you to cuddle up to her- something she wouldn’t normally do when you were both at work, but decided it was necessary at that moment. 
“Lay down. I’ll set an alarm to wake you up when your lunch is over, just please, rest.” You gave her a half-hearted glare, partially for pulling you away from your schoolwork but partially because you doubted you’d be able to sleep in a space like this. But once again, Ona saw right through you. “Close your eyes and stop fighting it. I’ll be right here with you, even if you can’t actually sleep, you need a break. And you’re already half asleep so I’m really not too worried about it. I’ve got you, mi cielo.” 
You gave her a slight nod before making yourself comfortable with your head on her lap, trying to do as she asked. You knew you were tired but didn’t fully comprehend how bad it was until your body instantly succumbed to your exhaustion. Within minutes, you had passed out on the couch. Ona’s teammates knew not to bother you having heard all of the defender’s concerns about you and your lack of sleep lately. All she got from them were a few knowing glances, happy to see how relieved Ona was at the sight of you sleeping on her. 
Your girlfriend fully intended on waking you up at the same time you normally ended your lunch and went back to work, but you were so peaceful on her lap, and she knew how badly you needed the sleep that she had a hard time doing so. She knew she hated lying to you and that you’d likely be pissed off at her, but Ona really, truly felt that she didn’t have a choice- she had to let you sleep. You were running yourself into the ground and this seemed to be the only hope at slowing you down and allowing your body to recuperate. 
When it was time for her to go back to her own training, Alexia came over to grab her, stopping in front of the younger woman when she saw the current position she was in, flashing her a sympathetic look. “Oni, you stay with your girl, I’ll cover for you. It’s just a regular gym session so you can make it up another time. Let her sleep.” 
She was shocked to hear her captain so willing to allow her to miss a gym session, just to let you keep sleeping, but Alexia knew how worried she had been about you, everyone did. It was all Ona had talked about for the last week- how you were exhausted and overworked and rarely sleeping more than a few hours. And Ona had been playing full 90’s lately so Alexia knew she could also afford the break to let her body recover alongside yours. “Thank you, Ale. Seriously, I owe you.” 
“Don’t mention it. You could use the sleep too, so why don’t you both just use the afternoon to catch up. I’ll let the physios know about (y/n). They’ve been pushing more than anyone that she needs a break so they’ll be glad to know she finally has one.” 
Ona gave her captain another nod, grateful for the understanding, before getting comfy alongside you so she could also get some shut-eye. Alexia turned down the volume of the TV and lowered the lights before bringing a throw blanket to throw on top of you both, quietly chuckling at Ona as she did so, “Let me just be a mom for a second, tuck you in and tell you sweet dreams.” The blonde placed a quick kiss on both of your foreheads before leaving the two of you alone, knowing just how badly both of you needed it.
It was hours later when you woke up on Ona’s lap, still on a couch at the Barca training facility. As your eyes slowly creeped open, you noticed how quiet the room was, as if there wasn’t a team member within a mile radius of you. You looked around some, a bit confused as to how you ended up in the position you did when you finally thought to check your watch- 5:47 PM. 
You jolted up, startling Ona awake as you did so, confused as to how you could’ve slept through your entire afternoon. “Ona, what the hell?! You were supposed to wake me up! How did I just sleep through the entire afternoon, I was supposed to be working!” 
“Hey, hey, it’s okay I promise. Ale agreed we should let you sleep, the other physios were totally okay with it, she double checked and everything. It’s okay.” She watched the tension physically leave your body as you let out a sigh, partially relieved to hear that nobody would be mad at you for ignoring your work all afternoon, partially annoyed that your girlfriend forced you into taking a nap. It was hard to be mad at her though when you saw the way she looked at you, her eyes big and filled with concern.“You fell asleep right on my lap. It was cute. You’re adorable when you’re sleeping, you know that?”
 You collapsed back into her arms for a hug, appreciative at her insistence to take care of you, even if you didn’t want to do it yourself. “Thank you, Oni. I love you, clearly I needed that.”
 She held you close, rocking you gently before separating herself. “And I love you, mi cielo.” She pressed a kiss to the tip of your nose, “why don’t we go home? Snuggle for real, not at work, and then get to bed?” You responded with a slight nod before allowing her to help you up, and go gather your things to drive you both home. 
.
On the way home Ona made the executive decision to pick up some takeout so you could really just focus on relaxing together once you got home. When you arrived, you did just that. Your girlfriend wouldn’t let you lift a finger, fully insisting that she had to take care of you so you could wind down and take a break. She led you directly to your room, sitting you on the bed while she changed you from your work clothes and into an old sweatshirt of hers with some comfy shorts. The defender made sure you were fully settled on the couch in a pile of pillows and blankets with your food before she took a shower and got changed to join you. 
In the time that she was away, you had dozed off again in the cocoon she had made you in the living room, only waking up when you heard her footsteps. “Sorry, were you sleeping? I didn’t mean to wake you, go back to sleep.” She sat down next to you, stroking your hair soothingly, knowing just how much it put you to sleep when she played with your hair. 
“Why don’t we just go to bed instead? You can read or something but it might be easier if I’m just in bed already before I fall asleep again.” Your girlfriend gave you a nod before leading you into your bed, snuggling up next to you. 
Once you had settled in bed, you were basically laying on top of her, her hands holding you tightly against her with your head on her chest, listening to her heartbeats. “Goodnight kiss before you fall asleep?” The brunette left a light tap on your back, getting your attention before you leaned up to fulfill her request, happy to oblige. 
“Do you wanna hear about the dream I had last night?” Ona asked you quietly, knowing her voice would lull you to sleep if you let her keep talking. You did this anytime either of you struggled to fall asleep- talking softly, mostly nonsense about anything and everything while the other half-listened until eventually falling asleep. You gave her a somewhat excited nod, knowing that her voice was always exactly what you needed. 
So there you were, while Ona went on and on about her latest dream and you drifted back into sleep, not processing any of your words. “So then I was going to-” she looked down, noticing how your breaths had slowed, “oh okay you’re already asleep, I’m just talking to myself now, cool.” The brunette breathed out a slight chuckle at the sight of you. “Buenas noches, mi cielo. Sweet dreams.” She pressed a long kiss to your hairline, thankful to finally see you at peace, for the first time in at least a week- completely at rest in your lover’s arms.
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hoe4sports · 15 hours
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Double trouble
Alexia Putellas x reader
Summary: Your twins needs new cleats and alexia learns about the increase in cost of living.
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Dinner was soon to be ready, just in time to eat before your twin girls had football practice. They were both on the Barcelona u15’s team, and somehow both of them had a talent. “Mamma!” Your eldest daughter yelled from the down stairs laundry room causing you to mentally sight. She was the messier of the twins; she would probably lose her head if it wasn’t stuck to her body. “Si, mi amor” you said as you walked into the laundry room. “Mamma, they don’t fit anymore!” She cried as she threw the cleat towards the corner of the room. “Que? The new one? The pair you got a few months ago, si?” You said as you touched her back to comfort her. “Si, mamma..” she said as she frowned. The girls were definitely in a growth spurt. “Let’s see, Hermosa” you said as you opened up the laces of the shoes and bent down to help her try it on. “AUCH, my toe! It hurts mamma!” She protested as you got the shoe on. “Wiggle your toes” you commanded as she sighted and wiggled her toes. It was clear as day, she needed new cleats again. “Alright, Mami is gonna be home any minute now. Let’s all eat and then go to pick up some new ones, si? It’s important that they make you feel comfortable. Go grab your sister and help me set the table, por favor” you said as you stood up and reached your hand out for her to grab. The blonde got up while leaning on to your hand and skipped upstairs to get her sister. The twins were spitting image of Alexia, expect they had icy blue eyes from the donor. You had originally wanted to have kids in two rounds; one with your egg and one with alexia’s egg. However, a pair of twins ended the plan quickly as they were more than enough for the two of you.
Just as you got to the kitchen, Alexia entered the house. “Hola amor” Alexia sang as she walked into the kitchen. “Smells amazing” she said as she hugged you from behind kissing your neck. “Spinach pasta” you said as you leaned into her smiling. You loved your little family, it was everything you had ever dreamed of. The twins bounced down the stairs together and walked into the kitchen. “Mami!” Elena yelled as she hugged alexia. The twins and alexia started setting the table, and you put the pasta in a serving bowl. Alexia grabbed sparkling water and you all sat down at the kitchen table in your designated chairs. “How was school, girls?” Alexia said as she slurped in a spaghetti. “It was bien! I sat with Andrea in class, she’s so nice. Maybe she can sleep over sometime? I also got my test back, I got a B, but I studied really hard” Camila rambled as you all kept on eating. Camila was the more talkative of the girls, often leading the conversation. After a quick chat about her new friend and her good grades, the other twin spoke up. “Mamma, do we have Bandaids? Or tape?” She said as she shoved her pasta around on her plate. “Si, why? Are you hurt?” You asked as you got a worried grin. “No! No, I’m not hurt. My cleats are just tight and it’s tugging in my heel.” She said as she looked up carefully. Alexia’s eyes widened and her jaw dropped. “Already?? Didn’t you ge-“ you smacked her arm. If looks could kill, she would be a dead woman. “Honey, it’s normal. You are growing everyday besides, we are already going to stop by the sports store to grab your sister a new pair so why not see if you find something you like too?” You said as you took a sip of water. Her eyes lit up as she smiled and nodded rapidly. Dinner went on, and you were soon on your way to the store.
“Alright preciousas, here we are” alexia said as she pulled your Lexus suv up in the parking lot of the sports store. The girls quickly hopped out and practically sprinted towards the store in their workout gear. You grabbed alexia’s hand as you walked in and was met by a mountain of cleats. “Oh my” you mumbled as your eyes widened. Having two girls in football wasn’t cheap, especially not when they were starting to work towards playing professionally while both being on the national team. It meant twice the travel expenses,, kits, jerseys, clothes and a shit ton of sports tape. “Mami! I like the pink ones” Camila squealed as she grabbed Alexia’s arm and pulled her towards a bright pair of Nike. Elena was more hesitant and grabbed your hand as you walked around. “What color do you like? Is there a specific brand you want?” You asked softly as her eyes scanned the wall. “I like pink” she said as she looked over at her sister that was busy trying on cleats. “The same as that your sister is trying on, si?” You asked as you walked towards her and alexia. Elena nodded and held close to you. After a few trials and errors both girls had found a pair of bright pink Nike; the same pair to be fair. It wasn’t really a problem, you just needed to mark the inside of the shoe. Not that it would be a problem as Elena was more of a left striker while Camila was a right striker. At the register, a young woman scanned the boxes and tapped the register. The girls each grabbed the box and immediately disposed the boxes in the trash as they went to the bench in the doorway to put their new cleats on. “And that will be, 559.99 euros m’am” the woman spoke as Alexia was pulling out her wallet. “!?” Alexia said in disbelief. “559.99” the woman repeated as she smiled. “Cash or card?” Alexia stood dumbfounded and looked at the register. “Ai, card” she said as she rubbed her neck. I giggled behind her as this was usually something I would take care of in terms of shopping and her being happy to pay down the credit card every month.
As we walked out the store, the rain has started pouring so Alexia unlocked the car as the girls sprinted towards it t avoid getting soaked. We drove the 5 mins to the arena and said our goodbye’s to the girls before entering the designated room for parents to watch. Alexia grabbed us both coffees on the way into the room, and sat down beside me to watch the girls. Me and one of the other mothers were talking about how crazy the cost of living had become and how groceries had become a huge expense. “Have you even seen the price of eggs! It’s insane, and my daughter eats like a horse.” the woman next to me exclaimed. “Think eggs are expensive? Try having one egg fertilised and it splitting into two.” I said as the whole room giggled while Alexia chocked on her coffee dramatically. “It was your egg Putellas, so you are to blame” I whispered as I winked.
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The Spiders Sister - Chapter 3
Summary: Reader meets the team.
Tw: mentions of sickness, teasing
Words: 2.8K
A/n: Thanks for all the support this series has been getting :) If anyone has any suggestions for things that could happen in this series lemme know and I’ll see what I think. No smut though I don’t write that here.
The next day you woke to knocking on the bedroom door. Sitting up in bed you quietly called for whoever it was to enter.
A moment later Wanda poked her head through the door. Seeing you awake or at least semi-awake she slipped through the small space she had created.
“Good morning.” She smiled coming to sit beside you on the bed. “Did you sleep well?” She asked pressed her hand to your forehead.
“Mmm.” You hummed still half asleep.
“You don’t feel warm anymore.” She smiled at this achievement as if she was proud of you. “How are you feeling today?” She asked moving her hands to rest in her lap again.
“Tired, but that’s probably because I just woke up.” You smiled.
“Nat sent me to wake you up. She wanted to know if your well enough to meet the others today.” Wanda explained looking slightly guilty.
“I mean, I’m game if you are. Where’s Nat?” You asked coving a yawn.
“Nat’s training with steve. And not so fast, I want to know more about how you're feeling. No more headache? Cough? Wheezing? Give me something.” She grinned.
“My headaches gone, no more cough, maybe a slight wheeze I’m not too sure.” You begun and Wanda’s brow furrowed slightly at the mention of your wheezing. “I’m like ninety-nine percent sure my fever is gone, and I feel pretty good all things aside.” You finished.
“That’s good. Maybe keep your inhaler on you today just in case. And after the meeting I’ll see if I can get Bruce to give us a few spares, just in case.” Wanda said softly.
“You really don’t have to.” You said shyly toying with a loose thread on the sheets.
“Its no problem. I would make me feel better. Breathing is important.” Wanda teased easing your concerns.
“So, when’s the meeting?” You asked.
“Well, I think Nat wanted to do it as soon as possible. Like straight after training and then I’m going to make you some pancakes for brunch.” Wanda said poking your side. “But for now, hop up, get dressed and I’ll be back soon to show you where the meeting room is.” Wanda said, standing up and heading for the door.
Once wanda had left, probably to go and find Nat to call the meeting, you crawled out of bed. Rifling through your backpack you changed out your sleepshirt and shorts for a pair of black track pants and a pale-yellow t-shirt. Throwing on some goofy socks and lacing up your black converse high tops you braided your hair sat in front of the mirror and threw on some deodorant.
Once you were ready and had been to the bathroom to wash your face and go through your morning routine, you sat at peters desk.
Picking up your backpack you went through it until finding what you were looking for.
Pulling out the black sketchbook you opened it to a fresh page and began mindlessly doodling things you could see around peters room and the cityscape beyond the open curtains.
Just as you were getting into the details of the New York skyline you heard a knock on the door.
Lowering your pencil, you sat a little straighter.
“Come in.” You called your voice sounding better than it had in days. And surprisingly good for someone who had spent hours coughing and wheezing for days on end.
Wanda opened the door and smiled seeing you up and about for the first time.
“You look much better.” She commented coming to stand by your shoulder. “Wow, you’re an amazing artist.” She smiled looking at your drawings.
“Oh, um … thanks.” You smiled still a little awkward when it came to compliments. “So, what’s the news?” You asked.
“Hmm? Oh, yes.” Wanda said looking up from where she had been inspecting your sketchbook. “Nat called Fury. He’s kinda the boss. He’s given the go ahead if steve and tony sign off on it. Nat then called a meeting and I’m going to bring you to the room where you're going to meet the team.” She explained.
“I have two questions.” You said.
“Shoot.” Wanda said pulling you up and gesturing to follow her out the door.
“One, is peter going to be at this meeting?” You asked as Wanda lead you down some seemingly endless corridors.
“Yes.” Wanda nodded, pressing the button to call the lift.
“And two, this Fury guy said yes? Just like that?” You asked sounding slightly confused.
“Yes and no.” Wanda begun, stepping onto the lift with you beside her. “Nat asked Jarvis, Tony’s AI assistant to pull up all CCTV footage of spider-man and separate footage based on bio-signatures. So, she could differentiate between when it was peter and when it was you in the suit. She sent Fury the files and after he reviewed them, he approved you a place on the team. If you want it and the others agree.” Wanda explained.
“Okay.” You said slowly. “Seems like a good plan.” You smiled.
And the lift dinged softly as it slowed to a stop.
“This is us.” Wanda said and you followed her out of the open doors. Walking beside her down a hallway she stopped in front of a door and paused to look at you. “You ready?” She asked, her hand on the door handle.
“Yep.” You nodded swollowing down your nerves. “Ready as I’ll even be.”
“You’ll be great. Just be yourself and they’ll love you.” Wanda said and pushed the door open.
Nat was stood at the head of the table, a screen behind her queued up with spider-man videos. She smiled at you and wanda as the rest of the people turned to face you.
Seeing the people you had only ever seen on Tv in real life was a little overwhelming at first but wanda squeezed your hand and lead you into the room to stand at the front with her and Nat.
Peter smiled at you from where he was sat beside Tony. Looking proud of you just for standing in front of the avengers.
You stood there silent for a second simply making eye contact with your shoes before Natasha spoke up.
“This is Y/n.” Nat begun, and you gave a small half wave with an awkward smile. Tony was staring you down with an unreadable expression. He looked like he was analysing your face mentally. Most likely already having connected you to Peter.
“Hi I’m Y/n Parker.” You said lifting your eyes to meet a few smiling faces around the room a fair few of them sporting shocked looks.
“Parker?” Tony echoed sounding smaller than you had ever heard from his times on Tv.
“Y/n Parker is Peters sister.” Wanda explained.
“Kid?” Tony looked hurt. “Why didn’t you tell me there were two of you?” He asked looking sad.
Peter looked slightly sick at the open disappointment his mentor was showing right now and so you stepped in before peter had a panic attack.
“Mr Stark, Sir, it was my decision to keep myself out of the spotlight. And to do that I needed to maintain a low profile. Which is harder to do when the avengers know of your existence. No offence.” You explained. And the team exchanged a few glances as they noted how you had come to Peter’s aid almost immediately.
“That’s alright, I’m sure Pete will open up now you’re here.” Tony said with a grin as he ruffled Peters hair, “Won’t-cha kiddo?” He asked with his usual charismatic charm and Peter gave a small nod and smile while he ducked his head not liking the attention.
“So, anyone have anymore questions?” You asked drawing the attention off of Peter once more much to your brothers' relief.
Looking away from the small smile he sent you as thanks you laughed, seeing every hand in the room up with a question for you, bar Nat, Peter and Wanda of course.
You looked to your left and nodded to Steve.
“Hi, nice to meet you kid.” Steve said. “I have a question though, if Peter’s identity is secret, why did you need to stay away from us?” He asked looking confused, and his statement drew a few nods around the room.
“If Tony scares you honey, I can assure you that the man would forget his own shoes without me.” Someone you recognised as Pepper Potts said with a smile causing Tony to grumble to himself. How Nat had managed to wrangle the CEO of Stark industries into this meeting you didn’t know.
Little did you know that all it took was ‘There’s something you should know, it has to do with Peter’ and she was on her way.
“Actually,” Wanda said drawing the gaze of the room to her, “This should explain it. Jarvis play the video.” She said and the lights dimmed as the Tv showed a compilation of some of your best moves in the spider-suit.
When the video ended the lights retuned to their normal brightness and everyone still looked confused.
“How exactly does a compilation of Peter doing tricks explain that?” Bruce asked.
“Um…” You said looking slightly nervous. “That was me.” You said in a small voice and the room was silent for a second.
“Sick moves kid. Peter your sister’s awesome.” Sam said and a few people laughed at his perfect comedic timing.
“Prove it.” Tony said and you paled slightly.
“Tony.” Pepper said placing her hand on his arm and shooting him a look.
“No, its ok pepper.” Nat said. “Jarvis?” Nat called to the ceiling. “Was that peter in the suit for those videos?” She asked.
“The height and weight as well as body stature and proportions do not match Master Parker.” Jarvis said.
“Ok,” Nat continued, “Who do those body descriptors match in this room?” She asked.
“The person in the suit does match the body of Miss Parker.” Jarvis said and Tony frowned.
“Do the sticky thing.” Bucky called drawing a few smiles. You rolled your eyes and put a hand up, splaying your fingers before jumping in the air and touching the ceiling where you stayed stuck.
“Crawl around.” Sam said and you glared at his heckling.
“No.” You said and you saw Peter doing his puppy eyes at you. “Fine.” You sighed.
Jumping up you did a flip and stuck your legs out, now standing on the ceiling upside down and making eye contact with Sam before looking to Bucky.
“Better?” You asked sarcastically.
“Much.” Sam grinned and you rolled your eyes again.
“Ok. Get down Y/n.” Nat said sounding part annoyed part amused at the display.
“Yes ma’am.” You said before detaching from the roof and doing a flip to landing back where you were before.
“Show off.” Peter murmured under his breath and you huffed a small laugh as his ears went red, not having expected you to hear him. Dumb super-hearing.
“Well, now we’re done with the party tricks. What are we thinking?” You asked brushing off invisible dirt from your clothes.
“Well…” Tony said. “I think its time you got your own suit.” He grinned and you smiled back. “What colours do you want kiddo?” He asked.
“Um… maybe something like purple, white and red?” You said and he nodded already sketching down ideas on a pad of paper pepper had brought with her from a meeting.
“You’re also getting an AI.” Tony added and you looked a peter who simply smiled proudly of you.
“Well, if that’s everything Y/n’s also gonna need a room.” Wanda said and Tony nodded.
“There’s a spare room on Natasha and Wanda’s floor if you want to move in with the girls. Do I need to send some movers to grab your things?” Tony asked and you looked at your shoes and shook your head.
“Not much to move.” You mumbled.
“Y/n’s apartment was taken out in the last battle. She’s been hiding out in Peter’s room for now. That’s how we met actually.” Natasha said shooting you a reassuring smile.
“Well, it sounds like I’m going to be funding yet another shopping trip.” Tony sighed and Wanda grinned at you mischievously.
“We’ll make it a girl's day.” Wanda said shooting a look at pepper.
“I’d love to.” Pepper agreed and Nat clapped her hands together.
“Alright then.” The assassin said. “I should probably tell Fury we have another spider on the team.” Nat grinned and you smiled at her.
“Great, now we have three spiders.” Tony said rolling his eyes and ducking as Pepper aimed a pretty good swing to the back of his head.
“Knock it off Tony, don’t act like you're not secretly overjoyed to have another Parker around.” Pepper said.
“Just wondering,” Bruce said looking mildly nervous as the room turned to look at him.
“Yes?” You prompted him to continue.
“Are you…” He begun before pausing, “I guess theres no real nice way to put it.” Bruce said and Tony jumped in.
“I think Brucie-bear wants to know if you come with the Parker Brain Package.” Tony said and Pepper glared at him.
“Tony.” She warned, glaring at him while you cleared your throat.
“If you’re asking about how smart I am, let’s just say I designed the original prototype for the web-shooters and chemical makeup of the fluid.” You said and Tony nodded seemingly satisfied with that small tidbit of information for now.
“Well, if nobody had anything else to say, Wanda and I are going to take Y/n for a tour of the compound.” Nat said before turning to look at Clint. “And you, have to make dinner. You lost our bet.” Nat said and then dragged you and Wanda out of the room by your sleeves.
After a very long and very comprehensive tour by Natasha and Wanda, you were shown back to the communal kitchen where most of the team ate together when they weren’t on missions.
You walked into the dining room attached to the kitchen to be hit with the smell of burnt food pungent in the air.
You looked at Nat confused, and she grinned as she heard cursing coming from the kitchen. Wanda looked like she was itching to go help but sad she pulled away Nat grabbed her sleeve at the very last second to hold her back.
“Can someone explain whats going on for me?” You asked.
“Well, Clint and Natasha can’t cook if their lives depended on it.” Wanda begun, only to shush Nat when she went to speak up. “So naturally they made a bet, loser had to cook the team dinner, naturally Clint lost so Nat is enjoying his public humiliation. And I normally cook if we aren’t getting takeout so it's causing me pain to hear whats going on in there.”
“Oh, calm down. Clints not blowing anything up.” Nat said rolling her eyes as Wanda shot her a look. “Ok that was one time.” Nat amended.
Not twenty minutes later you were sat at a table with the avengers with a plate of very burnt stake and watery mash potatoes.
“What is it?” Tony asked poking his steak.
Clint grinned. “A masterpiece.” He said.
“More like a mistake.” Nat muttered judging her steak while poking it with her knife as if she was expecting it to start moving of its own accord.
“I say we have newbie try it.” Tony posed and you rolled your eyes.
Cutting off a piece of the very tough steak with your knife you raised it to your lips and put it in your mouth.
It was tough and kind of disgusting. But you smiled anyway.
Finding the meat tougher than you had been expecting, you made the switch as you called you fangs up. Your canines sharpened as you chewed managing to decimate the meat. Swallowing you looked at Clint.
“Not the worst thing I’ve every eaten.” You said with a smirk and Tony who had been watching you closely squeaked.
“Jeez kid you didn’t tell me your sister was a vampire.” Tony said turning to Peter.
By this point most of they eyes were on you, so you hid your teeth and retracted the fangs out of embarrassment.
“She’s not. It’s a spider thing she got.” Peter said coming yo your defence.
“Either way her new name is fangs.” Tony said with a grin.
This time you glared at him.
“For the record i think they’re awesome.” Wanda said sensing your embarrassment.
“Seconded.” Nat said her spy training honing in on your body language to see you were insecure about it.
“I gotta admit it’s a cool trick doll.” Bucky said.
“Pretty neat.” Steve agreed with a smile.
“Badass.” Sam nodded flicking a still frozen pea at Bucky. “Alright, now that y/n probably has food poisoning, who wants pizza?” Nat asked with a grin. Cheers came from all sides of the table as Clint slumped dejectedly in his seat.
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elisespage · 3 days
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in which your constant nagging for a cat finally makes jude give in.
+
“but jude…” you whined, trailing off to try and see if his usual reaction has changed from his annoyed face to his ‘i’m giving in’ one.
a deep sigh left his lips as he looked up from his phone, being met with your puppy dog eyes. god he’d love to just say yes and give in. but a cat wouldn’t be such a good idea right now.
the pair of you had only moved into your madrid apartment a couple of weeks ago and he wasn’t even sure pets were allowed.
every night, jude would listen to your rambling about cats and how independent they were. countless videos were being sent to him of cats doing funny things and he nearly did give in when you shown him a litter of kittens that were being given away.
“how many times, y/n? no cats.”
he tried to sound stern but he let a little out when you slumped back into the bed, a frown on your face. “but did you know that seventy percent of a cats life is just sleeping? that means hardly any work.”
he turned his phone off and the bedside light, getting under the covers with you. “thanks for the information y/n, but i’m still saying no.”
“you’re no fun,” you huffed, turning around to face the opposite way. jude wrapped his arm around your waist, pecking your neck a couple of times. he hated it when you were mad at him.
it wasn’t like you were mad at him. you were mad at the fact you couldn’t get a cat, and he was a big part in why you couldn’t. maybe you were.
“come on. listen, if you give me a kiss maybe i can ask the building manager-”
jude was cut off by your abrupt movement, your lips meeting his and arms wrapping tightly around him. “have i ever told you that i love you?”
“several times a day.”
+
when your alarm went off to wake up for work, jude was nowhere to be found. you just assumed that he had gone to training early so you went to work like everything was normal, the conversation from last night being pushed to the back of your mind.
after a long day of work the only thing on your mind was relaxing in the bath with a glass of wine. but that idea was also pushed to the back of your mind when you opened the front door.
jude stood in the middle of the living room, a box at his feet and a confused look on etched all over him.
“whats up, buttercup?” you asked, dropping your keys into the bowl and joining his side to look st the various boxes at his feet.
“okay, you can’t freak out. well you can, but you can’t scream.”
now your confusion was evident and you were starting to think the worst until the sound of small feet were heard. you looked down and saw the most gorgeous tabby cat staring back up at you and you gasped.
“you didn’t!” you screeched, picking the cat up and kissing it all over. it licked your face and then wriggled so you put it down. “oh my god, jude!”
you figured all the boxes were cat supplies and your boyfriend kneeled on the ground, opening the biggest box which turned out to be a cat scratching post. “i thought maybe you’d like to help me. i can’t even understand the stupid instructions.”
the pair of you spent the next hour sorting out the food bowls, the scratching post and even all the little toys jude had bought for her.
“what are we going to call her?” you wondered later when you were snuggled up on the couch, the cat lay on your lap with her arms stretched and resting on your chest.
he paused the movie and grabbed the laptop, googling cat names. “peach? coco? muffin?”
“i kind of like coco. but that’s too girly,” you sighed, staring down at the cat with ideas swirling in your mind. “how about friday?”
you turned to face him, eyebrows furrowed at the unusual name that jude had come up with. “why friday?”
“because it’s friday. also, we met on a friday. and we had our first date on fridays. and we also got this place on a friday.”
fridays seemed to always pop up in your life, always at important times as well. so friday seemed to work well.
“friday. i love it,” you giggled, pecking jude on the lips. “i love you too.”
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aluiferuous · 3 days
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SUBJECTS: mondstadt boys, genshin impact. TYPE: comfort, fluff. CATEGORIZATIONS: gender neutral reader, physical touch (hugging, hand holding, mild kissing but not on the lips, etc,) sharing a bed, potential romantic undertones, unspecified nightmare, extremely brief violence (bennett hits you to wake you up lol). ARCHIVIST’S NOTES: you wake up from a nightmare. luckily, someone is there to comfort you.
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  after perhaps the fourth or fifth repetition of your name, your eyes snap open, and you stare blankly at albedo. he stares back, brows creased with concern. “can i touch you?” he whispers, barely audible. you manage a nod, and he very carefully takes your hand. you inhale slowly, trying to match the rhythm of his breathing. albedo handles you like glass, merely sitting beside you for a moment. he asks, “do you want to talk about it?” and you merely shake your head. “alright. i’m here for you.” you give him a small smile, and lift your interlocked hands to your lips, pressing a kiss to his knuckles. “i know,” you murmur.
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  in your defense, you were only acting accordingly. when someone slaps you in the face, even in the throes of a nightmare or the embrace of sleep, it’s only natural for you to respond in turn. so that’s how you wake up already mid-slap, bennett looking at you with wild eyes. you wrench your hand back as if it’s been burned, and bennett grins, apparently unconcerned by the fact that you were about to hit him. “sorry,” you say, more than a little alarmed. “are you okay?” bennett asks earnestly, taking both your hands in his. “do you need anything? water, warm milk, tea—”?” “no, bennett, i-i’m fine. just…” you squeeze his hands, offering a smile. “just you.”
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  it takes you a while to come to, but once you do, with heaving chest and pounding heart, you’re enveloped in a warm embrace. diluc is never the touchy-feely type, not like you are, but he makes exceptions. you swallow thickly, turning to look at him. his eyes are shut firmly, though the speed of his breathing indicates he’s very much awake. wrapped in his strong arms, it’s hard to remember what you were so scared of in the first place. with a soft exhale, your eyes drift off, and you let sleep take you once more.
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  you tear your eyes open with a shudder, the vestiges of your dream already fading like fog in the morning sun. you stare at the ceiling blankly, trying to gather your thoughts, and suddenly feel an ice-cold touch on the back of your neck. your whole body crumples in a flinch, and you grumble, “kaeya!” a soft laugh is the only reply you earn, an arm wrapping around your waist. “sorry,” he murmurs, not sounding even remotely so. “what were you dreaming about?” and oddly enough, you don’t even remember.
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  razor likes to sleep in piles, so it’s not alarming when you wake up to him all curled up, practically lying on your chest. you clear your throat, wriggling away from him if only so you can breathe, and razor barely seems to stir as he wraps an arm around you, holding you in place. you let out a sigh, wrapping an arm around him in turn. you can feel his heartbeat where your chests connect, steady and even. you listen to it for a moment, waiting for the pounding of yours to slow, and razor opens one eye to peer at you. when you look back, he closes it quickly, feigning sleep. you can’t help but smile and reach up to ruffle his hair, letting out a slow breath. you can’t even remember why you woke in the first place.
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  neither of you are strangers to nightmares. it’s a good day when neither of you has one, but a rare one. you’re unsurprised when you wake up covered in sweat, a dying scream pulling at your vocal chords. venti barely seems to have noticed, but the way that he’s wrapped around you like a cocoon indicates otherwise. you wince, rubbing your eyes wearily. “sorry,” you whisper, voice hoarse. “don’t be,” venti replies. you let out a slow breath, releasing all the air from your lungs, and listen to the sound of his heartbeat, and the soft hum of a long-forgotten hymn upon his lips.
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hearts4hughes · 15 hours
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Luke Hughes
4. "where's my goodnight kiss?"
luke hughes x fem!reader | request post
you have no intent to speak to luke anymore today. he’s been purposely causing arguments and bickering throughout the entire day. from when you bought him the wrong brand of toothpaste to you accidentally sitting in his spot on the couch, he’s found a problem with it.
now, you grab a pillow and a blanket from your shared bed, preparing to spend a long night on the couch.
“where are you going?” luke questions from his spot in the bed. his brows are furrowed as he examines you holding your favorite blanket and pillow clad in your pajamas.
“to sleep.” you simply state.
“and where are you planning to sleep?” he inquires.
you roll your eyes. “on the couch.”
his jaw clenches. he’s aware of the grouchy attitude that he’s been sporting, but every time he begins to apologize, you do something to annoy him once again. it’s not your fault, you could have stepped on the wrong floorboard and he would have freaked.
“why?” he whines, his voice suddenly small.
you stare at him, contorting your face in an annoyed manner. “because you’ve been an asshole to me all day and i’m not sleeping next to you right now.”
he sits there dumbfounded. he tries to figure out what to say next, how he could use his charm to get you to stay, but he has no idea.
you turn around, b-lining towards the couch— which seems like the most comfortable thing right now.
“wait,” his voice causes you to stop in your tracks. “where’s my goodnight kiss?”
you want to ignore him. you want to just slam the door and leave him alone, but his voice sounds so adorable. not to mention his cute, messy curls.
“you’re not serious, right?” you ask, letting out a laugh in disbelief. but luke doesn’t laugh, he only frowns, putting on the cutest face he can muster up.
hesitantly, you drop your blanket and pillow and walk over to him. you climbing on the bed and lean into his lips. the kiss is barely a kiss— it’s more of a peck—eliciting a whine from luke as he wants more.
you giggle as he swiftly flips you over and begins spreading kisses on your face and neck. finally, he pulls back, “i’m sorry for being a jerk. i’m so stressed right now with hockey, which is barely an excuse.” you look at him, urging him to continue. “you deserve so much better of an apology, but i promise i will make it up to you.“
“well,” you start, “you can begin by scratching my back.” you grin causing him to laugh.
“whatever you want, darling.”
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jeongin-lvr · 2 days
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Hello, I hope you're doing well 💕 I've come to share a thought that won't let me sleep...
Roommate Chan who notices that when you and your bf get busy, your bf is very loud whereas Chan doesn't hear a peep out of you. The walls of your shared apartment are pretty thin, and he's sure he should hear at least something from you from time to time. This leads him to wonder if you ever get to orgasm. But he's a good friend and keeps these thoughts and wonderings to himself.
Before this accidental realisation, he would put on headphones whenever he could hear the goings on, but now that he's been exposed to hearing it a few times – when he's left the shower and walked past, or come home in the middle of it – he can't help but listen. He can't stop himself from unconsciously straining his ears in the hopes of hearing something on your part – not because he wants to hear what you sound like (even though he's thought about it), but because he hopes to high heaven that you're getting some pleasure too.
One day, he comes home to find you on the sofa, staring blankly at the TV. When he asks if everything's okay, you tell him that your relationship has ended. You don't seem too upset about it, but Chan still waits a while before bringing it up – a little awkwardly, but he can't help himself. When you confess that your now ex couldn't get you there, Chan offers to help, before confessing that he's liked you for a long long time.
cee!!!! oh my gosh so sorry this took forever 😭😭 I’m so slow when it comes to stuff like this!!
ohhhhh my gosh I love this… the thin walls drive him crazy at first. he’s rushing to put on headphones the moment he hears things are getting on through the walls. however, there was one occasion when he actually paused to listen. there was the familiar creak of the bed, the soft wood banging unevenly against the wall… even the deep pants and moans of your boyfriend. however, there was never any, well, you. and whatever he did hear from you was the soft words of “good job” to your partner. to Chan it didn’t seem like he was doing much of a good job. He almost laughed when he heard that for the first time.
Then he got curious, furrowing his brows as he spent the rest of the night wondering. that’s when he first found himself pondering if he could be the one to get you there. of course, he always pushed those thoughts away because, obviously, you had a boyfriend. that and he didn’t know if you just weren’t very vocal in bed or if his suspicions were genuinely correct. either way, it left him curious.
but then there was one night when your boyfriend wasn’t over and he heard you mewling through the wall. Chan knew it was weird and gross but he pressed his ear against it, jaw slightly agape as he took in the sounds. oh, now he knew that your boyfriend just wasn’t very good. you were very vocal. very, very vocal. that was the conclusion Chan got to before scolding himself silently and stuffing his head in a pillow, trying to ignore how flustered he’d gotten himself.
and then a few weeks later he had found you sitting cross legged in the living room, mindlessly watching a TV show he’s never seen you even be remotely interested in. and your eyes were so distracted, it didn’t take a genius to notice that. Chan, being the good guy he is, asked if you’re okay; and in that moment it’s like he opened the dam, all your thoughts, frustrations, and annoyances pouring out of you like a rush of water. Chan listened and for the first time this entire ordeal he wonders if he can help. and before he had the chance to think it all through, he asks out loud; “do you want me to help you?”
and you’re shocked but he’s even worse. his eyes are wide and his lips are pressed together as he sits across from you on the couch, his hand on yours from when he was trying to comfort you. only now it felt deeper than just comfort. you both stare at each other for a while. he doesn’t truly realize how desperate you are as you nod and with watery eyes you say, “can you please?”
eventually he’d lay you down on the couch, at first he was awkward and nervous about his next advances. mumbling sorry’s and saying your name in gentle ways that made you feel more than your ex ever did. but somehow Chan would get confident as his lips connect with yours for the very first time. he doesn’t know when or how or what to even say when he pulls apart. but right now all he can think is that he wants— no, needs —to make you cum. so he does. he spends the entire night working on you. and honestly, it doesn’t take long to pry an orgasm from you. so he does it twice on his tongue, once on his fingers, and in the heat of the moment he finds the balls to spread your legs and sink his dick into you. you’re sensitive now, and Chan realizes this is the most vocal he’s ever heard you be. and now he spends every night wondering if he can get more of those sounds out of you.
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sorapricots · 22 hours
Text
Peachy
Summary: How everyone was shocked for an individual that hate PDA like Bakugou start to kiss your head more than he used to.
Pair: Bakugou x Reader
Genre: Fluff
Warnings: Nothing? Bakugou is very tame in here
A/N: Hello it’s been 999+ years since I last post something. To be frankly honest… college is a no joke not to mention I’m close to my last year right now… I can feel my sanity and braincells are decreasing with the amount of papers and journals I have to write… but oh well now I am kinda back? maybe not but who knows :) hope y’all enjoy my post and have a great day!
Wc: 1,4k
Weekend is finally come, and you cannot help but decided to wake up a little bit later than usual. Of course your wish is only a wish because a certain someone decided to knocked on your door and wake you up from your deep slumber.
You groggily walk to the door to find out who dare to disturb you from your very needed sleep. And there they are. A pink girl with black eyes and A girl with violet hair staring at you.
“What do you want?” you asked her. Mina just shrugged off your grumpiness as she walked inside your room and start to rummage through your wardrobes. Meanwhile Jirou gave you a quiet morning as she took a seat on your study desk.
“Girl, it’s 10 in the morning, and today is weekend so why don’t we spent some times together at the mall?” you groaned as you flop down to your bed face first.
“Also you told us to remind you that you run out some of your bath necessities and you want to restock them on weekend. So pull your ass up and start to get ready.” You let out inaudible grumble as you roll your body to flop on the floor.
“Fine.” You let out a huff as you grab your towel and the outfit Mina already picked for you.
“God… I really did run out of shampoo…” you sighed as you toss the empty bottle of shampoo to the trash bin.
.
.
.
You walk to the living room with Mina and Jirou after you finish taking a bath. And see a bunch of your friends lazing around. Your eyes quickly find the pair of red vermilion eyes that you love so much.
“Good morning.” You chirp as you stand in front of Bakugou. Bakugou grunt as his eyes move from Kirishima and Kaminari to you. He took a second to observe your outfit before answering.
“Mornin’ do you have somewhere to go?” he finally stand up from his seat. You nod your head as you hum.
“Yep. Mina, Jirou and I gonna go to the mall, you know… girl’s time. And at the same time I’m gonna buy some groceries because I ran out a bunch of stuff. so… do you want me to pick up something for you?” You lean your head deeper as Bakugou cup your cheeks with his callouses hands.
“Some spices. And just want you to be safe. That’s all.” You smile as you nod your head. Believing that Bakugou will send his groceries list later.
“Okay lovebirds come on we need to catch the train.” Mina decided to rip you apart from Bakugou. Receiving an annoyed grunt from the blonde. You only let out a small chuckle and wave at your boyfriend before left the dorm.
After you, Mina, and Jirou catch the train, the three of you manage to get a seat on a somehow not so crowded train despite it is a weekend. The three of you decided to discuss what to do at the mall other than shopping some groceries.
“What shampoo you plan to try? Didn’t you said you want to try a new scent for your shampoo?” Mina asked as she peeked your phone where you are busy looking for some shampoo testimony on the internet.
“Hmm… I don’t really know yet, but I do want to try peach scented shampoo… apparently according to the internet, peaches scented stuff are a bit popular these days.” You answer the alien girl while your eyes still planted on the LED screen on you hand.
“Oh but isn’t Bakugou did not fond for sweet scented stuff?” Jirou suddenly popped a question that make you think for a while. Shortly after you just shrug your shoulders.
“Well I don’t think peaches scented shampoo will have a dominant sweet scent. But even if it did, it’s gonna be ‘Suki’s problem, not mine.” Your answer made Mina laugh.
After a couple hours of walking and looking around the mall, Jirou, Mina, and you decided to go back home. While sit in the train you cannot help but keep looking at the new shampoo scent you just bought.
Anxieties and questions of what ifs start flooding your brain that makes you spiral down. Drowned enough you didn’t hear Mina practically scream at your ears. Your body jolted up when you feel Jirou’s ear jacks poke your cheek.
“Girl, are you really start regretting to buy that shampoo now? After we are one hour away from the mall?” Mina asked as she put her hand on one of her hips. You stare at her for a couple of seconds before let out a sigh of defeat and nodded your head.
“Don’t worry, I’m pretty sure he will like it.” Jirou pats your shoulder softly in attempt to comfort you.
.
.
.
“We are back!” Mina screamed as she kicked the door open with hands full of groceries just like you and Jirou. Izuku and Ochako quickly help the three of you to put down the groceries in the kitchen.
“Did you get my groceries list?” Bakugou asked as he walk in with towel hang on his neck. You spin your body to see him before nodded your head.
“Yep I got all of them just alright!” you smile as you circle your arms around his slim waist. Bakugou give you an approval nod before he started to take out the groceries from its bag with you still latching to him like a koala.
“Peach scented shampoo?”  Bakugou look at you confusedly since usually you pick the floral scented shampoo. You just shrugged a bit before lean on his broad shoulder.
“Just want to try something new that’s all.” You said. Bakugou stared at it for another seconds before put it away for you to take back to your room.
.
.
.
“Hmm it does smell nice…” you mutter to yourself as you dry your hair with a hairdryer after you finish taking a bath. You hum to yourself while putting some casual clothes you usually wear in dorm. Suddenly you hear a knock on your door. You quickly run to the door to welcome the person who knock on your door.
Surprised but not surprised it’s your boyfriend who knocked on your door. Waiting for you to open the door. You throw each other a confused stare before he let a short huff.
“Dinner is ready.” You let out an understanding hum before you step out from your room and walk to the elevator with him. You both wait in silence as the elevator went up. Bakugou suddenly smell something unfamiliar coming from you but he decided to ignore it. Not until both of you step inside the elevator.
“Did you put on parfume?” Bakugou suddenly asked. You look at him confusedly before you decided to sniff around.
“Oh, you mean my new shampoo? Does it smell good?” you asked a bit hopefully. He stared at you for a second before leaning closer to you. His warm palm carefully grabbed some strands of your hair before softly kiss it. It would be a lie if you didn’t feel your heart skipped a beat when he did it.
Suddenly the elevator door opened. You immediately pull Bakugou out while he still busy inhaling your new scent. You even have to purposely pull yourself apart from him to be able to walk to the dining room.
“Suki, people are staring.” You said under your breath. It only cause Bakugou to pull you closer and plant his face to the crook of your neck as you both sit down.
“You smell so good.” He said.
“Damn girl, what spell did you cast on him?” Kaminari teased while wiggling his eyebrows. You rolled your eyes jokingly while still try to pull your lover from you.
“Okay explosion man, you need to eat.” Your stern words make Bakugou finally pull himself away and huffed like a child.
“Fine. But I want a cuddle.” He said with a bold tone. Your cheeks immediately flushed brightly as you can see from your peripheral vision your friends giggling and wiggling their eyebrows to you.
“Fine. Just eat will you?” you shoved a spoonful of food to his mouth before you start to eat your own food. The said man just smirk before he started to put insane amount of spice to his food and eat it. Of course he did not forget to secretly putting his warm palm on your thigh.
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