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{info} wren 𖤐 she/her 𖤐 twenty-one… currently married to bbno$, pedro pascal, joeseph keery, mark grayson, markiplier, & fire lord zuko
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✞ requests are always open but the posts will likely take a while. if your request has not been posted- it is either because i have something of the like already posted. lowercase is intentional. mdni with works explicitly stated so.
🕯️ you’re always welcome here — bring your tea, blanket, and fav fictional crush. please be kind, respectful, and open.
Hello! I am a person who saw your Loid Forger x soft!Reader and I honestly loved it! So, I was wondering if I could ask for a sort of continuation on it?
Mostly of a scenario wherein soft!Reader has a fear of thunder and lightning storms due to past issues or had a nightmare that reminded her of her not so great childhood. After realizing she’s stayed up for hours (past two in the morning) she eventually decides to go to Loid for some comfort since she views his presence as very comforting and a reassurance of safety. She feels bad about waking him up, and decides that she’ll tough it out herself back in her room, but it’s too late since Loid is already up (despite this being a rare night he actually allows himself proper sleep and rest) and asking what’s wrong.
How does Loid handle the situation? He most likely wouldn’t push her away because he loves her so much, but how would he comfort her given his lack of experience with even his own feelings?
Please take your time with this, so pressure to answer quickly, and have a lovely day/night! And I apologize if you couldn’t understand my request!
oml very VERY late reply.. have this short fic to make up for it :,)
word count 1.7k
the storm had started sometime after midnight. thunder cracked like a low drum rolling, shaking the windows in their frames. rain battered against the roof of the building, but you could already picture how it would be piercing if it were to pelt down on you. you sat upright in bed, knees to your chest with the blanket clutched between your hands as if it would shield you from the noise- which unfortunately veiled useless.
you hated storms. always had.
from the clouds carefully barreling in throughout the day and the weather forecast via the stereo, you had known this was coming. your day had been simple. a shift at the corner bookstore, picking up anya from the academy, and a quick stop at the groceries to pick up a weekend’s worth of food prep. you tried to pretend you weren’t affected by the inevitable storm- ignoring the gush of the wind as it blew through the town between you and your daughter. you were an adult now, living in a cute apartment with an adorable little girl who loved you and a man who was… well, loid forger. your stoic, composed, and suspiciously attentive fake husband/roommate. now, as you were clutching onto your blanket as the storm rumbled outside, you began to even question how you got here- in this nice three bedroom apartment with a man who presents as your husband and his daughter.
it was an action made in desperation, really. when your mother had called you to join the biannual family gathering one night- your aunts bickering behind her about you being single yet again, you were clawing your way through dates and hangouts to find someone, anyone, to bring. a funny thing how life works. you were on shift, sorting children’s books for the upcoming school year ahead when you heard a young child’s voice. “oh, i wish i had a mama to read me books.” it shouldn’t have been funny to you, but it was. the pink haired child dragging around the blonde man, who you presumed was her father, around your small shop. your small snicker brought you to his attention.. and after a few agreements, you had agreed to play wife for the single father who also happened to be a doctor.. and attractive.. which was exactly your type.
the storm cracked against the window pane next to you, pulling you out of your thoughts on how you ended up here. you were back in your room, blanket pulled close and candle lamp burning low. with a sigh, you throw your blanket over your shoulders and tie it loosely around your neck like a cape as if it’d provide some comfort. swinging your legs off the side of the bed and sliding on your comfiest slippers, you take your almost burnt through candle lamp and make your way to the kitchen. the air outside your room is somehow colder and crisp and you pulled your blanket cape a bit tighter around your shoulders as you set your candlelight onto the kitchen counter. you weren’t so sure why you were here. a cup of water? no.. a warm glass of milk might put you to sleep, you reason. the candle flickers as you turn to find a mug to use and half blindly searching for the mug and a small pot to warm it on the stove. your hand had flown to your mouth in attempts to hide your shock as you nearly shriek when your turn around to see a both confused and tired blonde eyeing you from across the counter.
“are you alright?” his voice asks lowly.
you’re nearly half certain your soul left your body.
loid stands there, freshly woken, hair tousled from his pillow and the faintest crease of sleep still in the corners of his eyes. in the flickering candlelight, you see he’s wearing a plain white shirt and navy pajama pants. there’s something strangely comforting seeing him like this.. unpolished and out of his every day suit and tie. something real.
“i..” you blink, setting the mug on the counter between you two and clutching your blanket cape around your shoulders. “i didn’t mean to wake you.”
“you didn’t,” he shrugged, rubbing his eyes. “the thunder did.”
your lips tighten in a straight, strained smile and you nodded once. “i.. couldn’t sleep.” you explained simply, turning to the fridge to pull out the milk jug and pour it into the small pot on the stove to warm it.
loid’s gaze softens as it moves over you. he’s silent for a few seconds—too long. he sees things you don't say out loud: the way your shoulders curl slightly inward, the tension in your hands, the faint shimmer of unease in your eyes. and loid forger, trained spy or not, is not immune to patterns. he's watched you closely—always attentive, always cataloging. and the bastard he is doesn’t say anything more as he hummed in acknowledgement. he thinks, despite himself, that its best he don’t comfort you. he couldn’t risk you getting attached. couldn’t risk the mission- risk his own feelings. he lets you move about the kitchen, no questions asked. simply moved to the pantry to take out the small jar of honey you had recently bought at the farmers market and leaves it next to the stove.
“the honey is soothing. it’ll help.” he said plainly before returning to his room.
you watched him leave.
he disappeared down the hallway with that same silent, effortless grace he always carried — a man trained to leave without leaving a trace. no creak of the floorboards. no flicker of hesitation. the quiet click of his bedroom door had a finality to it. for a moment, all you could do was stand there — blanket still tied like a child’s makeshift cape, fingers clutched around the edge of the counter as if it could tether you to something stable. the candlelight danced across the tiles, throwing soft, distorted shadows across the floor.
you turned back to the pot. the honey jar.
the milk was gently bubbling around the edges now, and you stirred in the honey with slow, deliberate movements. he hadn’t had to do that — leave the jar out. but he did. because loid noticed everything. every twitch, every tremble, every tiny shift in routine.
you poured the milk into your mug and brought it with you to the couch, settling in with the candle on the coffee table and your blanket drawn close. the flickering flame painted your apartment in warmth. you sat there quietly, sipping the milk. it was soothing, just like he said. softly sweet, familiar. but the calm didn’t last.the thunder rolled again- deeper this time, crueler- and you flinched before you could help it.
you pressed the mug to your lips again just for something to do. but your thoughts were already slipping somewhere colder. you could feel it creeping in at the edges, that ache in your chest that told you you weren’t okay — no matter how warm the drink or soft the lighting.
the worst part of storms wasn’t the noise.
it was the feeling of being seven years old again. sitting in a hallway corner because your bedroom window was leaking and no one came when you cried. huddled under a blanket that smelled like mildew and your mom’s perfume. pretending you weren’t scared. pretending you were invisible.
you pulled your legs up to your chest again, curling into yourself.
you didn’t want to wake him.
loid needed rest. he barely allowed himself time to sleep as it was, and this was probably the one rare night he could. you hated the idea of disrupting that. of being needy. that wasn’t what this arrangement was supposed to be, anyway.
you were here to play a part. fake wife. fake mother. fake family.
but sometimes… sometimes it felt too real.
because loid never treated you like an obligation. he never made you feel like a burden. he noticed things. he brought you coffee at work if he and anya were in the area. carried the grocery bags without you asking. watched anya with the kind of tenderness that made your heart ache with softenness. and tonight, when you turned and nearly screamed from the shock of seeing him — he didn’t laugh. didn’t mock. he just… stood there. soft and concerned. warm in ways he didn’t even realize.
you stared down at your mug, then over at the hallway. his bedroom door was closed. but the soft glow from beneath it told you he hadn’t gone back to sleep yet. the thunder cracked again, sharp and sudden — you flinched so hard the milk in your cup spilled over the rim and onto your wrist.
this was stupid. you were an adult. you should’ve been able to handle it. still, almost against your will, your legs carried you toward his door — blanket still draped around your shoulders like armor.
you raised your hand to knock… and stopped.
maybe this was too much. you could go back to the couch. tough it out. wait until the storm passed.
you turned to leave—
click
the door opened.
loid stood there, brow furrowed in concern, already fully awake. like he’d been standing just on the other side.
he blinked down at you, voice quiet. “you’re still up.”
you couldn’t look him in the eyes.
“i’m sorry,” you said quickly, already stepping back. “it’s nothing. i shouldn’t have come, i just— i’ll go back to the living room.”
but before you could take another step, his hand reached out — not forcefully, not demanding. just gentle. fingers brushing your blanket, holding you in place.
“…what’s wrong?”
that’s all it took.
your throat tightened, and suddenly you couldn’t answer without your voice betraying you. so instead, you looked at him — really looked at him. hair still messy, shirt creased at the collar, warmth in his eyes hidden under worry and exhaustion.
you shook your head.
“i just… don’t want to be alone right now.”
loid didn’t move for a moment- eyes looking at you with nothing but quiet softness and concern before he stepped aside and opened the door wider.
and for the first time that night, you let yourself believe it.
summary: you hop on the trend of wiping off your boyfriends kisses off, only to cave in a matter of seconds.
content: just fluff, pet names, clark being the cutest ever i want to smush his cheeks
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it was cruel. but you couldn’t help yourself.
all clark ever wanted to do after work was kiss you all over and hold you as if your body disintegrated the stress of the day from his. but tonight, after hours of doomscrolling, you just had to try the trend on clark.
you hear the lock on the front door click, in sync with a heavy exhale of relief. you turn to look over the couch to see an especially disheveled looking Clark taking off his shoes with his heels and placing his briefcase on the floor.
“hey, you,” you chirp, leaning back on the couch to get an upside-down view of your boyfriend, your voice so syrupy and inviting Clark could practically start floating.
“hi baby,” he says softly, smiling when he sees you sitting so pretty on the couch, quilt draped over your lap with a book on top. he pads over to you, stalking above your form behind the couch. “missed you, missed your face,” he bends down to meet your laid back head and presses a long, tender kiss to your lips. when you separate, he barely has time to admire your face (as he always does) before you wipe your lips with the back of your hand. he slightly retracts away, brow furrowing in confusion. he ducks down to kiss you one more time, to make sure he’s seeing right - only to be met with the same sight he’d witnessed before.
“why are you doing that?” he asks, face inches from yours.
“doing what?” you act oblivious, stuck between keeping a serious face or grabbing his and kissing it all over, saying you didn’t mean it.
“wiping them off,” he says, deflated, and it makes your heart ache. he’s so innocent and so obviously hurt. you know Clark and you know where his mind has immediately gone - to the pit of self-doubt that tells him it’s his fault. “did I do something?”
that damn kicked puppy look is what gets to you break. you spring up, bouncing in the couch cushions, to throw your arms around his neck.
“imsorryimsorryimsorry,” you say between kisses that land in various places on his face. he’s confused at first, but his arms eventually fall to their natural place around your waist. “it was a prank..” you admit, biting your lip.
“a prank?” he raises his eyebrows. “you wiped my kisses off, as a prank? What happened to my sweet girl?” he pouts, the mix of your pet name and how he looks so genuinely disappointed is enough to make your stomach sink with the realization that maybe - no, definitely - you fucked up. your nerves settle when a smile breaks at the corners of his mouth.
“jesus, you’re going to kill me,” he lifts a hand to brush the hair out of your face, palm resting on your cheek. “i thought you were mad at me or something. I got scared.” he says softly. Ouch.
“fuck, no, Clark,” you grab his face, smushing your lips to his in a harsh kiss. “i’m so sorry, I felt so bad doing it - I just saw it on TikTok - fuck, I’m sorry, I love you-“ you kiss him again, and this time he reaches up to wipe your kiss off his mouth.
your jaw falls open, releasing a dramatic gasp. “touché, Kent. touché,” you smile, tracing his jaw with your finger. “can we kiss for real now?”
“oh, now you want to kiss for real?” he teases, squeezing the flesh on your hips. “you’re lucky you’re so cute.”
“and ‘m still your sweet girl?”
“always.”
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a/n: pls send asks so I don’t fall off the deep end!! im working on my last request now pls give me everything
tags: establish relationship, both are health care workers. creepy doc. slight innuendos. fluffy ending
no, this was not requested. yes, i wrote this instead of finishing work.
the smell of floor cleaner and sanitizer wafts through your nose almost immediately as you step into the building. scanning your badge to access the staff hall, you re-adjust your backpack and take a quick glance at your phone to take the time. a little right before your 6:00am clinical shift to shadow dr. heeler. a funny name, you thought, for a doctor. you squeeze your eyes tightly in hopes to wake up a little more before you make your brisk walk to your floor, smiling and greeting people you see along the way before you make it to the staff room where you can leave your stuff. on autopilot, you set your stuff where they belong, silencing your phone before keeping it in your back pocket, and taking one last sip of your water. it’s cold out of the staff room, once you step out. your hair is tied up neatly as adjust your white coat and badge and find the doctor.
on the floor, you greet other staff and any patient family as you walk around in hopes to find the doctor to sign in for your hours. you’re propped at a nursing station, chatting away with a colleague as you wait for your supervisor when there’s suddenly a slight breeze right next to you accompanied by a familiar waft of cologne. you turn to see a man with dark hair somehow neatly and messily arranged and a pair of dark brown eyes that never fail to draw your attention. “[name],” he greeted with a small nod- to which you do the same. “good morning, mark” you said curtly, a friendly smile on your face. the other nurse at the station you had initially been speaking to eyes the both of you as if thinking or scheming something in her head. you notice, but don’t say anything in hopes to keep the lingering dating rumors away. light conversation continues between the three of you until it seems like every patient on the floor chooses to suddenly be in need at the same time. one call light.. then another.. and another.. and the small group of you move from the station to go about your duties.
as you’re in the kitchen, humming quietly to yourself as you fill pitchers of water to hand out to patients as they wake up, you hear the door behind you click open. “ah, there you are dr. [name]” greeted whoever opened the door. you turn around as you place the last ice water pitcher on the cart, seeing your resident floor doctor washing his hands at the sink. “dr. heeler! nice to see you finally came along,” you joked lightly. the doctor was a very attractive man, generally. he looked like some sort of hollywood doctor with greying hair and a charmed face that would have most women falling to their feet to be alone in a room with them. you rearrange the cart in front of you to be able to fit a few snacks onto it as well, and maybe a few warmed blankets to give out as needed while you make your rounds. “i don’t understand why you always do that,” said the doctor. “that’s volunteer work. you never leave anything for our floor volunteers to do when you prep your little cart like that.” he’s lecturing you a bit as he dries his hands. “i was simply filling in time while i waited for you, doc.” you tell him placing a few snacks onto the cart. “plus, i’m not a doctor yet. as much as it flatters me when you call me that title, i still have a bit of school to finish.” you speak as you work efficiently while the doctor is standing closer behind you. close enough so that you could smell his overpriced cologne that was probably worth your rent and it nearly makes you scrunch your face up to sneeze. “you don’t give yourself enough credit though, [name]. you’re truly one of the most brilliant students i’ve had the pleasure of shadowing.” he speaks warmly to you- which catches you off guard. you turn your back to him as you move over to what you and your colleagues called the blanket oven- which is just where the floor keeps heated blankets and sheets. you simply hum a reply at the doctor’s words, awkwardness building in your head as you try to keep it professional. “if i’ll be honest, you’re also one of the most beautiful students i’ve ever had to work with.” he says lowly- a confession that has you almost flinching in surprise. you bumped your hand against the grates of the heated storage, burning the tops of your fingers superficially. wincing and pulling the blankets out, you look over to the doctor sheepishly. “i appreciate the compliments, doctor” you tell him before setting the blankets onto the bottom of the cart- readying yourself to leave the awkward situation. “but i fear that this is not an appropriate place to act on those actions- especially as my senior” you add before walking out the door. “i’ll find you at a station once these are dealt with to begin proper rounds!” you tell him as you shuffle your way out of the room- pushing the cart of goods.
out of the room, you suddenly find yourself hot and flushed. had the doctor just tried flirting with you? how embarrassing.. you grimace at the thought, knowing he was practically old enough to be your father. ignoring the slight searing feeling in your fingers, you push the cart around the floor with practiced ease. you're far too into your head when you turn a corner a little too quickly and almost run the old plastic cart directly into your coworker. mark places his hands at the end of the cart as if to keep the distance, looking over to you with a slight surprise- obviously caught off guard. “watch where you're going, yeah.” he says, but it's not rude or anything close to annoyed. he's looking at you with tired eyes- his gaze silently looking over you as if to ask you if you were alright. you just nodded, “i’m okay.” you voiced quietly to him. mark raises a brow at your quiet tone, eyes flickering down to your hands as they grip the plastic cart handle. “you sure?” he asks, stepping around the side- close enough that your shoulder brushes his arm.
you glance up and give him a look, the kind that says, not here, but his concern doesn’t waver/ his haze drops to your hand. “your fingers are red,” he says, voice softening. “did you burn yourself?” you shrug.
“it’s nothing.” but he’s already reaching out- fingers curling gently around your wrist with the kind of careful touch that’s only noticeable if you're looking for it. his thumb hovers over the reddened skin, and when you try to brush him off with a hudd, he lifts an eyebrow. “let me take a look, sweetheart.” its whispered- quiet enough that no one else in the hallway hears- but it makes you freeze for a half second anyway. you shoot him a look, eyes wide. mark just gives a small smile, teasing under his breath. “relax. no one’s listening.” your eyes narrow at him. “still,” you mumbled. “we’re working.” there’s something gentle about the way he’s looking at you- concern and care in your boyfriend’s actions. “you’re hurt. i’m helping. very professionally," he says, already nudging the cart to the side and gently guiding you into the break you. you don’t argue- fingers stinging more than you’d like to admit, and mark’s hand rests just against the small of your back as he leads you. not obvious- just enough.
inside the break room, he wastes no time. you’re seated in one of the uncomfortable chairs while he rummages through one of the drawers, pulling out a small first-aid kit with a kind of casual competence that you’ve come to love watching back in your shared apartment when he’s looking for the specific pair of chopsticks he always uses when eating sushi. he kneels down in front of you, a sight you’d never tire of. “this might sting..” he warns quietly, taking your burned hand in his. “this view makes up for it,” you teased lightly. he gives you a flat look, but there’s a ghost of a smile playing on his lips as he starts cleaning the burn. the silence between you is easy, filled with the quiet rhythm of gauze being unwrapped and ointment being dabbed. when he starts wrapping the bandage around your fingers, you notice how his thumb lingers at the edge of your palm. you glance down at him. “you know you odn’t have to play nurse every time i get a papercut.” you say dejectedly- like a kid who tripped and feels guilty for it. “yeah, well..” he shrugs, taping down the end of the wrap. “kinda signed up for that when i asked you out a few years back.” you let yourself smile. “i think you just like excuses to baby me,” you teased. he leans back on his heels, grinning “you’re not wrong.”
you both stay there a second too long- him crouched in front of you, your bandaged hand resting in his- and then he stands, smoothing down his scrubs. just like that, the moment folds back into something normal- professional. but before you can open the door to head back out, mark’s hand brushes yours again, a silent check-in. “hey,” he says quietly- almost under his breath. “that thing with heeler earlier.. you okay” your chest tightens. “you saw?” he nods, jaw ticking slightly. “didn’t like the way he was looking at you.” you shrugged, keeping your voice low. “handled it.” you say plainly. mark gives you a look- protective and serious. but he trusts you. he always does. “i know,” he starts. “still. if it happens again–” “i’ll tell you,” you cut in, stepping closer. “i’ll tell him about my hunk of a nurse boyfriend who works this floor.”
he softens then, leaning in just enough for his lips to brush the top of your head. a quick, stolen thing that no one walking past the door would even notice. you look up at him and smile. “aw, it’s like you kissed me better,” you teased lightly. “thank’s nurse.” he rolled his eyes, stepping slightly back with a playful groan, “don’t even start that again.” he murmurs. you grin as you push the door open. “come on, babe, i’ve got a cart full of water and good intentions to deliver.” you snicker, already straight to business. mark laughs behind you, low and warm. “wait for me.”
first fic of summer break! something that was brain rotting me. we’re back in business working on requests + a new theme! the inbox is always open xoxo
a super late blurb i meant to finish and post in november..
established relationship, fluff, mentions of tini's mac and cheese..
~
synopsis: in which you and your boyfriend spend your last holiday together in your college apartment.
at first the home was warmed with a mixture of lit candles and whatever dish was in the oven, food lining the small kitchen island- most of which were made just by you. there’s quiet music playing off a speaker in the living room, the sounds of sweet jazz, according to your beloved. your beloved who, unfortunately for you, had dragged you into hosting thanksgiving at your small hometown apartment. it was a small living space, barely enough for the both of you and the golden ball of fur you had picked up from the shelter on your one year anniversary. two bedrooms, one bath and a small ass kitchen- which worked when you two had initially moved into together as two broke college kids. you and mark had met on move in day, only chatting via email prior. and though you were first tentative on moving in with a complete stranger, it was an easy way to split a housing fee with little to no strings attached. oh how you were wrong.
your roommate- mark fischlbach, an engineering major with a slight hint of nerd. there was no doubt you found him at least a bit cute. before you two got to really know each other, you were fond of the leftover coffee freshly brewed sitting in a pot in the cramped kitchen waiting for you when you got ready for classes. you were fond of the never ending snack supply in the cupboards during exam dead week. you were most fond of the random email you would get in the middle of the night from him attached with notes on shared classes. it only took a couple of months for you and mark to actually befriend each other. neither of you can really pinpoint where you two had switched from being just acquaintances in the same living space- to close friends. somehow from moving day, to grocery shopping, to late night baking and gaming together- the two of you had dug a deep hole into what had eventually became a relationship. in between the mess of the cramped kitchen and shared living areas, mark had drunkenly confessed his feelings for you in some petty argument with his close friends.. right in front of you.
early on, the added stress of finishing your degree and achieving your diploma with high scores had both you and mark reeling- challenging what was then a newer relationship. and, when mark decided he was going to drop everything and try his luck at youtube.. that was a true test of your love. it left you both wondering who would cover his half of rent while you tried to find a job as fast as you could after graduation. would you both have to move in with either of your families and lose the small home you had learned to love? what if the stress caused either of you to drift? the questions were heavy on your minds as each scenario came crashing down. mark had taken to working at a nearby restaurant for hours on end whilst you finished school. he provided how he could, working himself to the limit as he supported you through your own ventures. and, when you finished your degree, you did your best to support him. it was the least you could do, helping him record videos and come up with ideas. so, when he blew up and earned the title of the king of “five nights at freddy’s”- he always tended to attribute his success to you.
this would be your last big holiday together in the small apartment- having found a much nicer place closer to los angeles. the house was much larger, a nice kitchen, and even a backyard for chica. mark had made sure everything was perfect for the two of you- in the right spot and with each accommodation just for you as most of his work was from home anyway. as you set the table with the last dish- a new mac and cheese recipe mark had mentioned once- you rearranged the table to your liking. humming quietly to the music, you wiped your hands down on the cheap pink apron you had gotten when you first moved in for baking. turning around back to the kitchen, you come face to face to your beloved- face nearly bumping straight into his chest at how close he was behind you, “hey!” you almost shrieked in surprise at his presence, but laughed it off. “you doing okay, love?” he asks you softly, his hands on your waist to keep you slightly parted in the tight entryway between the kitchen and tiny dining space. you looked up to him with a soft smile, nodding “yeah.. is your mom on the way?” you asked him, carefully scooting past him and into the kitchen. he let out a small mix of a laugh and a sigh. “yeah, yeah.. ethan is picking her up from the airport so i can go get chica from the groomer's while you finish up here.” he tells you as he looks at the food spread out on the table with a small smile. “you made the mac and cheese?” he laughs a bit and you hum from the kitchen. “everyone and their grandmother have been raving about it.. had to try” you shrugged, pulling off the apron as you clean up around the kitchen so that it could look more presentable for your guests. the air was too warm in the small apartment, and as you washed up the last few remaining dishes, mark snuck up behind you- not so carefully- and placed his hands on your waist. he presses his chest into your back as he gently placed a soft kiss into the soft skin of your shoulder while leaning closer to open the window above the window to cool out the kitchen. you lean into his warmth with a small smile, gladly melting into his gentle touch that never failed to make your heart flutter after all these years. with the soft jazz playing through the speakers in your living room combined with the loving hold of your boyfriend, a smile gracing both your features, he places another soft kiss to the side of your head as he practically glued himself to you while you finish up the dishes. “what're you thankful for this year, hm?” he asks you as he rested his head into the crook of your neck as you dry off your hands. “do you want the answer i’m saying at the dinner table later or the cheesy answer?” you joked lightly in response. “the cheesy one, obviously.” mark says back. “i'm thankful for you, as always.” you tell him, and he hummed in response as if thinking of his reply. “i’m thankful for your amazing cooking..” he says with a small snicker, holding back a laugh as you try to worm your way out of his hold in retaliation. you huffed and fought back your own laugh as his grip on you remains strong. “only my cooking?” you reason, still struggling to free yourself from his arms. he laughs at your attempts, pressing another gentle kiss to your cheek, his laughter reverberating through his chest as he holds you close. “your cooking and your laugh,” mark added before placing another kiss onto your face. “and your smile and your jokes, and your stunningly beautiful personality” he speaks between light kisses pressed all over your face bringing you into a fit of giggles. “im thankful that your’re mine,” he finishes off softly with a warm smile.
a small revamp to the account plus a few more guests to our cottage !! requests are open again..with the knowledge that anything currently in the owlery will be deleted. i will accept any letter as long as they fit within guidelines. feel free to send stuff in :)
Hello there ^-^ I hope you're doing well. I saw your requests are open, so I wanted to request headcanons for Loid Forger x soft female s/o, please, if that inspires you :)♡
(I know Yor is technically "soft" too, but, here the reader doesn't have that kind of strength nor has a personality where she could handle the type of work Yor does or anything like that. Just a very soft gentle reader, please) and thank you 🌸
oh.. loid with a soft! reader would be so cute.. i picture this to be where you're his stand-in wife. he thinks this is all for a mission but he can't help but feel..
he gets so flustered around you. he knows this partnership is just for convenience, but having you around the apartment going about your day? god, does it do something to poor mr. forger.
once you move in, he feels like the house is warmer- more friendly. loid would never admit it to anyone, but he liked it better having you moved in. your room was so cutely decorated and the scented candles you put on every free table somehow reminded him of a home he had tried to block out.
he can't help but have a smile on his face when he comes home after a long day, hanging his coat up as he smells whatever you cooked for dinner that night (with anya's help, of course). he finds it endearing that even if this was all just some awkward circumstance, you do still really play the housewife role well.
you try to plan "family" activities. whether it's just a small trip to the park for anya and bond to run around, or a treat at the bakery (your personal fav), the forger family will almost always be out and about on the weekends.
anya absolutely adores you. she loves how you cook and how you do everything in your ability to make her and her papa happy. she loves when you include her in conversations and play along when loid wont.
loid finds you incredibly endearing. he is not used to being on the receiving side of someone so gentle and affectionate. at first, he thought he might've embarrassed himself with how warm his face got when you had first made him a cup of tea after his shower so that he could settle down after a long day. he's so used to being the protector, the one in control, so when you're so naturally soft and considerate with him- it catches him off guard. he might try to hide it, but the small lift of his lips and pink tint on his face will always give him away.
he sort of short circuits when you compliment him? like i said before, he's too cool and collected. too nonchalant. so, when you call his bed head cute one morning, he kind of just stands there confused. its not like he was trying to woo you or anything there. he wasn't doing anything particularly specific- and you called him cute? he was not, and still not, used to the random compliments. he has gotten better at recovering from, though.
he's a lot more attentive with you. while loid is already a caring person, being around someone so soft and loving would make him even more attentive. he would start paying attention to the smallest details about you — the way you laugh, the way your eyes light up when you talk about something you love, or the way you curl up with your favorite blanket. he’d take note of these things and try to replicate them in sweet ways when he’s around.
he secretly loves attention. you can't prove me wrong. loid is very good at hiding his emotions, but when you do something cute — like cuddling up with him for movie night or showing him how excited you are over a new book — he can’t help but feel a warmth in his heart. he might not always show it, but it makes him feel content in a way he’s not used to. when you ask for his opinion on something small, he secretly enjoys that feeling of being needed, but in a gentle way.
he is such a sucker for you. you bring out the softer side of loid that very few people get to see. despite his stern spy demeanor, he’s incredibly protective of you. if you're feeling sick or down, loid will drop everything to take care of you, even if it means he has to adjust his mission schedule. he might not show it outright, but his actions will speak volumes, whether it's making you tea or tucking you into bed when you're not feeling well.
loid would take his time with you, iykyk. despite his best judgements, he finds himself taking you out on dates and thinking of you as his wife rather than just a roommate- a friend. he finds everything about you so..cute.. sometimes he thinks he wants to squish your face in his palms.. yk, like you would a baby? the cute aggression gets to him and sometimes it catches anya off guard.
Hello! I’m thrilled to meet a writer who will create Newt Scamander Fics! That’s amazing he’s super underrated! That being said I would be more than thrilled to request a touched starved Newt Scamander x fem (or Gn if that’s what you’d prefer) Reader who Newts in an established relationship with but it’s new and he’s eager to initiate intimate moments with them big or small to show he loves them. Reader could also be newts assistant as well! Thank you!
i've had this sitting in my drafts for the longest time. just something short and cute. ty anon <3 !
title: scrapped
newt scamander x reader !
you had first met newt when he first began his travels. as silly as it seemed at the time, he was in dire need of an assistant to care for his animals and, in turn, you had been in need of a job. growing up, an elderly neighbor of yours had been a puffskein breeder for some time. it was at a young age where you were taught the beauty of magical nature, where a love for creatures was born. so, with that warm desire to care and protect these creatures, you had studied materials available to you in hopes to learn more of them. when you had learned a young man in the ministry was in the process of writing a manuscript on the information and care of these creatures, you had beamed at the thought of another wizard caring for them as much as you did. you had almost jumped at the ‘in need of assistant’ announcement that floated around hogsmeade as you worked a bored shift at a small corner bakery. seeing as you were one of the few options, newt had chosen you to work alongside him and his beloved creatures. with proper instruction and care, they soon became your creatures as much as they were his and everything seemed more lively around the case.
now, five years later, you sat quietly at newt’s kitchen table, humming to the music playing off the phonograph. on this quiet spring day, you two had initially planned to go on a nice, much needed date. the weather, on the other hand, had other plans. the rain pelted down against the pavement almost as soon as you arrived at his quaint townhome. so, instead of going for a nice lunch, you two had opted to stay inside and enjoy each other’s company. the fireplace warmed the home and the smell of stew wafted around the kitchen. as you made your lunch, newt was in the basement tending to the creatures. though working with him everyday for years, you and newt had only started dating four months ago (there was always a push and pull from either of you deeming a romantic relationship inappropriate for work partners before he asked you to go out for dinner one night and you caved into his romances). you had slowly come to terms with his home being yours in a sense that you were here on both your on and off days. you lifted yourself from your spot at the dining table, leaving your sketch of the small golden snidget you had recently rescued, and made your way back into the small kitchen to finish your meals. your hips swayed to the music that played quietly from the living room as you fixed two bowls of stew for you and your boyfriend, setting a kettle on the stove for tea afterwards. and, with both bowls in hand, you make your way down to the basement.
newt is at his own desk downstairs, eyes fixated on whatever's in front of him when you find him. it’s warm in the basement, or at least where he is currently stationed, and you find yourself tugging at the sweater you had decided to wear. you clear your throat to let your presence downstairs known before stepping to his desk, placing the warm soup in front of him. “your lunch, sir” you say lightly to him, a smile gracing your features. he can’t help but smile as well, moving whatever was in front of him out of view. “thank you, dear.. it smells wonderful,” he says, looking around his desk for his wand. upon finding it, with the flick of his wrist, your own desk chair from across the room finds its way to the table, next to his. “come sit, i do have something to show you..” newt explains, smiling as you take a seat- the chair pushes in the slightest bit afterwards. you giggle at the small gesture. once settled in your seat, your boyfriend scoots his chair a little closer to yours with the tiniest blush on his face. how cute. clearing the table of the stray papers and tools, he reveals what he had been keeping behind his back. it was a small folded bouquet of flowers using old papers from the past few weeks. you feel that your cheeks warm up at the cute gesture, still not used to the small acts of love that came with the new relationship. you take the small bouquet of flowers from him, smiling at him warmly. “i was going to buy one while we were out for lunch today before the weather turned upset. i hope this can make up for it for now,” he tells you softly, eyes darting from your own and to the paper in your hands. you admire the work, seeing scribbled bits and pieces of scrapped notes and drawings- his handwriting and love coating each fold of the paper.
with the smell of your lunch wafting through the office, the sounds of the animals milling about their days from out the door, and the love of your life next to you.. there was nothing else you could ask for.
idk why i’m thinking about you and zuko sneaking around at night. i don’t even mean in like a sexual way (which it definitely is sometimes) but like.. sneaking out and cuddling under the stars or skinny dipping in the pond and just being able to love each other without other people judging you before it’s morning again and you two have to act like you don’t know each other…
This is so sweet because Zuko totally would get you into his sneaking out habits almost as a break from the overbearing world of royalty, to indulge in the simplicity of life. Quiet, other than the sounds of cicadas surrounding the air around you two, and besides the gentle voices you two use to talk to each other.
The both of you laughing at how a frog just hopped away from the sounds of grass rustling, finding as many constellations in the sky as possible, looking deeply into each other’s eyes, colors practically glowing in the white aura of the moon, Yue was especially entranced by you two that night.
Or if you two decide to go swim around in the nearby pond, it wouldn’t be much of swimming at all with how you two can seem to pull out of the embrace you two shared. Practically feeling your heartbeats just synchronize in genuineness, a testament to how far beneath the surface your love for each other goes.
It’s so hard living a life of apathy for the one you found your other half in, if you could, you and Zuko would hug and kiss and hold hands all day everyday. Resisting that gravitational attraction to just be close and remind each other of your love is hard. But thankfully, on the nights where the both of you aren’t to tired from your everyday duties, there are moments where you two can in fact be the couple you are.
Hewoo~! ♡´･ᴗ･`♡ I would like to request a touch starved gn!reader x Shxtou~ 🌸
The lack of Shxtou x reader is a crime! (ง'̀-'́)ง
I'm really touch starved, like... All the time!! (ᗒᗣᗕ)՞ So i would love some kisses and hugs from my beloved dog boy~ ( ˘ ³˘)♥︎
🍓🌸
as summer began to die down, a cool autumn breeze wafted through your open apartment window. you were restless these days, working hours upon hours by taking extra unwanted summer shifts that teenagers started to drop the closer it came to the school year. you worked at a small cafe in the city and, though you loved your job, there was nothing you craved more than to spend time with your boyfriend. unfortunately, as all odds seemed to be against you currently, your work shifts had overlapped and you had felt as if you never saw him anymore despite living under the same roof and sharing a bed at night. the lack of his presence left you feeling drained and lonely even if he was just in the other room.
today was a strange day, as you were not needed at work. this meant you could do nothing but stay home and be with your lover all day, right? wrong. your beloved purple haired partner had unintentionally scheduled a gaming marathon stream for the whole day you were free. it was no one’s fault, really, for the overlapped schedules and you were both adults who could figure things out along the way.
thats what led you to this situation. on a small, yet very comfy snorlax shaped bean bag chair with a thin blanket draped over your figure as your boyfriend continues his stream right in front of you. you were still in the same room, yes. occasionally the two of you would converse or the chat would ask about you as well, but you didn’t mind too much. you just wanted to spend time with your boyfriend by your side. as he gamed, you idly scroll through your phone, sending a few videos to his phone for him to watch later. this was enough, you thought. you were content with simply being at his side, warm and cozy doing your own thing.. yet your body craved his. not in a sexual way, not then at least. you craved his touch and the way his warm skin felt against yours. you missed the cuddles and the ghost kisses that would be littered all over your face. you missed your lover, who was mere inches away from you.
as shouto took a break from the stream, he glances down to you curled up in the bean bag chair. a small smile crawls onto his features as he sees you had fallen asleep while on your phone which was still displaying whatever you had last seen. excusing himself from the stream for a moment, he takes off his headset and approaches you, gently taking your phone to turn it off. before he could do so, he notices what you had been looking at last. it was the photo album you had been keeping of you two since you had started dating all those years ago. it warmed his heart, seeing how cute you looked asleep in the chair. although you looked comfy now, he knew how you’d be complaining about the back pain of the uncomfortable position you were in hours after your nap. so, shouto gently picks you up and carries you to bed. once in his arms, your sleeping figure practically melts into him, melding together like two marshmallows in a pit. he sets you down in bed, carefully tucking you in before making his way back to his gaming room until you stop him. “wait..” you say in a half asleep daze “come cuddle me..” you call out to your boyfriend who looks at you tenderly. “i’ve got a stream going on, baby.. you know this” he replies, his heart fighting between crawling into bed with you or going back to work.
in the end, he lost the battle of logic and ended up telling his audience that something had come up. you, however, had won your boyfriend’s attention for the rest of the day successfully.
