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reiderwriter · 7 days

Note

So obviously Spencer is iconic for his wide range of haircuts over the show, and I have this vision of a Spencer x hairdresser fic where he goes to the same hairdresser all the time because he likes the routine and it’s what he’s used to. So like they’re low-key friends bc he’s been her client so long, but then she notices he can’t come as usual and he tells her it’s because he’s always away or working late. So because they’re close she gives him private late appointments after she closes bc they’re more accessible for him, and then they’re always together late at night, and eventually they fall for each other!! And like she loves his curls and cringed when he wanted it cut short but loves it regardless AHH I JUST LOVE IT. Bonus points if Spencer gets to recommend his hairdresser girlfriend to his teammates just to brag about the fact he has a hot girlfriend lmao. I get it’s kinda long lol, if it’s too long a premise then no worries, just sharing it is nice :)

A/N: Hi! I love the idea of hair stylist reader, so I had a lot of fun writing this~♡ Thank you for your request, I hope you enjoy it!

W/C: 2.1k

Warnings: implied Autistic Reid, brief mentions of sensory issues, writer does not care for the shows Canon hair continuity and does basically whatever she wants.

Masterlist

The first time you'd met Spencer Reid, you hadn't been able to cut his hair. Which was a damn shame because it really did need cutting.

Sweeping up the floors of the hair salon you worked at, you had noticed the man lingering outside, wringing his hands together and pushing them awkwardly through his hair, approaching and retreating every few seconds.

You watched him through the mirrors, and let him dance around like that for five minutes before deciding that the evening breeze would be a boon during the hot summer night that was about to set in on you.

Opening the salon door, you stepped outside and soaked in the fresh air before turning to the now frozen, slightly awkward man.

“Can I help you?” You tried to put a welcoming smile on your face, but the salon was past closing and empty beside you. You should've been heading home by now, but something in the man's posture had you dawdling.

“The barber shop down the road closed down,” he said quickly, as if the words were practised on his to guess moments before.

“Yes, that's true. It's been six months now.”

“Six months?” he squeaked out, running a hand through his hair as he turned inwards.

“Do you… need a haircut?”

“Yes. Yes, are there any other barber shops in the area?”

You rolled your eyes and walked back into the salon, picking up a robe and a shoulder cover and spinning around the closest chair to welcome him.

“Well, are you coming in?”

“But you're closed. Your sign says you're closed.”

“And I'm still here, aren't I?”

He didn't argue any further and hesitantly stepped into the salon.

You helped him out of his bag and put it away before helping him into the robe and shoulder pad.

He awkwardly stood around as you prepared your scissors and station again, switching on the mirror light so you could fully see his face and hair.

And damn was he attractive. As you smoothed his hair out of his face, you were met with warm brown eyes, open and anxious, like a deer caught in headlights. Or, more accurately, a dear caught in a hair salon.

You had to blink and look away as you remembered what you were about, standing up and leading him over to the sink.

“I'm… I'm a little bit sensitive about my hair,” he admitted quite meekly as you tested the temperature of the water.

“Okay. Is there anything specific?”

He sat himself in the chair but didn't lower his head to the bowl, so you waited.

After a minute or two, he gently lowered his head to the bowl, and you helped his progress, making sure he was comfortably settled. He didn't speak, just let his shoulders relax and closed his eyes as you turned the water on his locks.

You enjoyed the simple repetitions of your job. Everyone's hair was different, that was true, but there were really only so many ways to wash hair.

You rinsed his hair thoroughly, keeping the water away from his face and ears with a face guard before beginning to lather it up.

For a man who hadn't seen the inside of a salon in six months and likely a hairbrush in the same length of time, his hair was healthy.

De-tangling as you went, you ran your hands through the lengths of his hair, taking note of how it fell, which parts were healthy, and which had developed split ends. Then you began massaging his head, working the shampoo into his roots, making sure his scalp was free from any possible dirt or dry skin.

This was the best part of the haircut for you, and you knew your regular clients enjoyed it greatly as well. Which is why you probably shouldn't have been too surprised when the man fell asleep.

It took you a few minutes to realize that was what happened, the face guard obscuring his face from your vision. When you squeezed the water from his hair, patted it dry, and twisted it into a towel so the water wouldn't run down his back, you had no clue that he was away with the fairies.

It wasn't until you asked him to stand, and he didn't even move that you moved around the sink and lifted the face guard.

If he seemed anxious awake, it had melted away now. He looked younger asleep, more calm and confident somehow. His eyelashes were long, a fact you only noticed when you leaned in to get a better look at him.

It was your hand unconsciously tracing a hand along his jaw that woke him back up, and for a second, you just stared at each other, faces inches apart.

“I'm.. I'm so sorry, I should go. Thank you for… I should go,” he said hurriedly, pulling the robes and towels off and snatching his bag up, running out the door.

“Wait, your hair,” you called after him, but he was gone.

And he hadn't paid.

It took a week for you to collect the payment, though you couldn't care less about the money anyway.

But a week thinking about the man's delicate features, his shy smile and stutter, and you were very distracted.

Thinking about him had become your full-time job, as much as cutting hair had, and you'd had a few close encounters with the scissors when you were lost in thought.

You'd been thinking up back stories for the man ranging from the romantic to the obscure to the downright realistic. So, a week later, you found yourself behind on work and needing to stay late, just as he stepped into the shop a second time.

“Hello?” You shouted from the backroom, hearing the doorbell jingle as it opened. “We're actually closed right now, so- oh.”

He stood awkwardly in the door, his face already flushed slightly.

“Hi.”

“Hi,” you said, trying to stop the grin spreading across your face. You didn't want to scare him off a second time.

“Last time, I… kinda ran away. I was… I'm not the best with-”

“With haircuts?”

“With change.” You both nodded at that, awkwardly staring at each other.

“So…?” You lead, trying to encourage him to introduce himself, hoping he would reveal something you didn't already know.

“You're closed again, but could you cut my hair?” He asked, pushing the long locks back on his head as he stood a little taller.

“It would be my pleasure…” you trailed off as a question, needing to know his name.

“Spencer. Spencer Reid. Doctor… just Spencer is fine if you'd prefer.”

“I'm Y/N. Come and take a seat.”

You slid him into the robes once again and got through a hair wash without any accidental naps this time. Though you did notice that he seemed to be enjoying it just as much.

His sighs left you feeling hot, your heart beating as you focused on his hair to draw your gaze from his lips.

When he was back I'm front of the mirror, he again looked like a scared cat that had been backed into the corner.

“So, what'll it be, Spencer?” You asked cheerily, combing your hand through his locks to detangle them.

“Hmm? Oh, a water would be nice.”

“For your hair, Spencer. What haircut do you want?”

“Oh! Oh, um, just a…just a haircut.”

Your face scrunched up in confusion as he doubled down.

“But what kind of haircut?”

“What kind?”

You pulled away from his chair for a minute and went to grab a cut reference book.

“Okay, so we've got undercuts, or trims, I can do pompadour or bowl cut or-”

You looked at Spencer's face again and saw that he looked more than confused.

“How about I just cut your hair and after you tell me if you like it or not?”

He nodded and gave you a weak smile as you grabbed your scissors.

Twenty minutes of silence later, and you felt Spencer exhale in relief as you dusted off the back of his neck and pulled the robes off of his clothes.

You'd gone for a shorter cut, but his curly hair had such a nice natural texture that you left it a bit longer on top. Without his hair in his face, his jawline was sharper, his eyes brighter, and you were somehow more infatuated.

He stood up shyly and you smiled at how good he looked.

“Okay, perfect! Let me just-” You lifted your hand and smoothed out some of his hair, picking up some strands and pushing them back and forth until it was just right.

He caught your hand just as you were about to pull away, and you suddenly realized how close he was. Or more accurately how close you had gotten. It was like you were breathing the same air.

“D-Do you like it?” You asked, voice small and high as it battled your heartbeat to be heard.

“Yeah. I like it. It looks… it looks like a haircut.”

You giggled as his grip became gentler, and your hand fell down to your side, brushing his chest gently as it descended.

“How much do I owe you?” He asked, and you led him over to the register to complete the payment.

“Thank you,” he said as he grabbed his bags to head out the door.

“Just doing my job. I'll see you in six weeks,” you said, waving him off.

“What for?” He asked, voice confused but bright. He sounded almost hopeful.

“For your next haircut, Spencer.”

He smiled and waved back as he walked back into the dark and disappeared down the street.

No one could ever accuse Spencer Reid of being forgetful, and six weeks later, he was back in your chair.

Except he didn't arrive at 11pm this time, but instead 11am.

The other customers and stylists gawked at the man as he walked in, and you thanked the gods that your seat was free as he met your eyes.

“Hi.”

“Spencer! You're back.”

He nodded shyly, head hanging a little as he ignored the many looks from the women in the room and the eruption of whispers and loud glances in his direction.

“It's been six weeks. You said that's when I'd need another haircut.”

You laughed a little as you pulled the robe around him.

“You know, I say that every time, but most people ignore me. I love a man who can follow directions.”

The eruption of red on his cheeks left you feeling suddenly tongue tied, and you carefully redirected the conversation back to the task at hand.

“Same again, Doc?” You asked, readying your spray bottle and supplies.

“Actually, could we, ah, go shorter this time?” Hesmiled sheepishly and watched as you ran your fingers through his tangled hair.

“My boss, last time, said I looked like I joined a boyband, so…”

“Your boss at the hospital?” You asked, clinging to every detail you could get from him.

“The hospital?”

“You said you were a Doctor, do you work in a lab instead or-”

“Oh. No, I work at the FBI. I'm not a medical doctor, I have a PhD. I have three, Chemistry, Engineering, and Mathematics.”

You whistled. “Impressive. You can't be older than 30.”

“I'm 29.” He said, smiling at you in the mirror, and you smiled back, hands still running through his hair.

“So, no boy band haircuts, okay. For what it's worth, though, you look totally hot.”

The words cut the conversation short, and you tried your best to take the words back as you went off to the sides to grab your sheers.

Half an hour later, and you could swear that half the salon had given up pretending to be doing their jobs and were just awkwardly ogling the man. If the shorter “boyband” hair was good, the undercut you'd done for him was even better.

You turned him around to get a closer look, using the excuse of making sure his hair was symmetrical enough to stare at him some more as you got closer to finishing.

“Okay,” you said with a sad sigh. “You're all finished, Spencer. Let's get you rung up.”

He nodded and followed you quickly, pulling out his wallet as he paid quietly.

“Okay. And I'll see you tomorrow,” you said, as he picked up his bags to leave.

“Tomorrow? I thought you said it was six weeks between haircuts.”

“It is. But it's also my day off tomorrow, so I was wondering if you'd like to have dinner. With me.”

He blinked at you once. Then twice, and another time before smiling and looking away.

“Okay. See you tomorrow, Y/N.”

He ran a hand through his hair and nearly walked into the door he was trying to walk through, but your heart still fluttered as you waved him out.

#spencer reid #criminal minds #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fanfic #mgg #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds fandom #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid criminal minds #spencer reid x reader fluff #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x y/n

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little-miss-dilf-lover · 4 months

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Hello!

If possible could you write a fic with reader and matt in an established relationship and he hears something when he's around them and it starts driving him nuts and then he finally realizes is a tiny heartbeat bc reader is pregnant but doesn't realize it, and he's like overjoyed?

sorry this is my first time requesting lmao

hii!! this is very cute :( very happy to be first to write one of your requests☺️ thanks for requesting, hope you like it💌

HEARTBEATS.

matt murdock x fem!reader

word count. 481

Recently, whenever Matt was near, he wore an expression you couldn't quite place, looking as though he was concentrating - like his brain was preoccupied. You knew he often had a lot on his mind, so you waited the questioning - wanting him to come to you when he was ready, though he never did.

Another week had passed, and he continued to model that same sceptical face around you, still no closer to the route of his confusion.

You're lying on the sofa, basking in the early evening sunset, nursing your nausea and awaiting Matt to return home from the store. He told you he'd briefly pop out to pick up some things for dinner - that he'd get something to help with your sickness bug, something to ease the upset in your aching body.

You hear the keys jingle in the door, indicating Matt's return home.

"Hey, sweetheart," he calls out, closing the door behind himself. "Sorry about the wait. Was so busy out there," he continues, placing the bags on the counter. He makes his way to you on the couch and takes a seat on his knees in front of you. "How you feeling?" he asks, slipping his hand into yours.

"Gross," you simply reply between a soft breath, closing your eyes. You were starting to feel it again - like the room was spinning.

His thumb circles over your skin, attempting to ease you. "I'm sorry, angel," he coos, speaking gently.

Matt props himself higher on his knees, extending to reach himself over your middle. He places a light kiss to your stomach over the fabric of your top and then carefully rests the side of his head in that spot - trying to comfort you. He keeps hold of your hand and laces his fingers between yours, playing with your hand as if to distract you.

You peek down at Matt on your stomach, watching his brows furrow, seeming like he was focusing - that same darned face again. You extend your spare hand towards his head and nestle your fingers in his hair, soothingly stroking over his scalp. "What is it?" you ask, your confusion mirroring his.

He faintly shakes his head and shushes you softly, a smile growing.

"Matt?"

"It's not the flu, honey," he beams at you, lifting his head from your stomach abruptly. "It's not the flu," he repeats, the words almost catching in his throat.

"What do you mean?" you question, following his movements.

"Sweetheart," he coos, drawing out the petname with a gentle nod - like he was trying to prompt you.

"No?" you whisper, speaking in disbelief.

He nods once more, his features softening and melting upon hearing the news. His grip tightens in your hand, and he brings it to his lips, placing another kiss where the last one dried.

"We're going to have a baby?"

— — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — —

some reason when I was writing this it reminded me of when vision said “yes, my love,” to wanda when she got her baby bump🥲 now im sad

#request #matt murdock #matt murdock x reader #matt murdock x you #matt murdock one shot #matt murdock fluff #matt murdock x fem!reader #daredevil #matthew murdock x reader

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futureplayboibunnie · 10 months

Text

Mistakes

Miguel O’Hara x spidey!fem! reader

Will Miguel let you in?

Miguel angst is MY thing fr, this is another self serve fic tbh. GOD i love this one, he’s so damaged and broken like fr we can fix him. I’ll probably do a part 2 bc writing this had be squealling

it’s been a hot minute. i’m on holiday for a month and i genuinely used my phone for this one. giggles

Miguel honestly felt like a ghost story as of late. He had been hiding out in his mancave a lot longer than what was deemed usual by the others and no one really had the incentive to find out what the hell he was doing and why the hell he wasn’t leaving.

More like no one wanted to have their spinal chord ripped out and dangling in front of them.

Miguel was as complicated as ever, his aggression seemed to be boundless and his drive a never ending abundance of determination. Though he was admirable as a leader, he was almost impossible to see through. It was his knack. His ge ne sais quois. He was a calloused man, haunted by demons he couldn’t escape- not because he wanted to, but because he would lose the last memory he had when he was genuinely happy. And that was with his daughter. Who he lost. Who he was responsible for losing. It had been almost a month since anyone had seen him. It was most definitely a period of self isolation for him, but it had been too long for the other spiders without a leader. They needed him, so did you.

It was bothering you now, what the hell was he up to? Did brooding really cost this much time? It seemed either ridiculous or…unsettling. You didn’t know which one you prefered. Day after day or constant wondering sent your mind spinning frok fraction to fraction: all you could do was wonder, be slightly irritated and…concerned about him all at once. Miguel was always on time, always prepared and valued hypervigilance and attentiveness…so why wasn’t he following his own moral code?

You told Gwen that you should check on him to make sure he was still fucking alive. She heavily disagreed with the idea but even Jess didn’t know what had gotten into him. Unlucky for them, they didn’t know the secret spot into his lair you find the first day of getting into the Society. The tour of HQ was quite enlightening, the amount of hidey holes were insane. Your heart was racing at the idea of visiting him unannounced, but you hated this and it was getting frustrating. Hell, you weren’t scared of him and you made it very known to him.

You decided to go late at night when no one else was at HQ. Jesus, if he was still here at 3 in the morning then he really was reeling… and no-one was there to pull him back from the unending void. Miguel’s hidey hole was on his ceiling so you quite literally had crawl through his vents which was very humbling and quite a blow to your blossoming ego. After that embarrassment, you were irked and already impatient. He better have a damn good reason for being like this.

Your crawled out of the vent at let your adhesive fingers crawl around the shadows of his cool, airy lair. Your eyes scanned around, it seemed void of any personality, no personal effects or anythint tying him back to his humanity. It wasn’t surprising but…saddening. You crawled further down the wall to get a closer look. It was a mess: broken tech, metal pieces, vials and serums stewn over the floor like it was just collected dust that just happened to land there. You tilted your head even more- there were weights and water bottles everywhere, he must have been extensively working out…or physically pushing himself as punishment. What really caught onto you though was the many monitors that were indented with a fist…his fist. Your mood soured at the latter. Turning your head to his platform, you finally found him, standing snd staring at his orange screens blankly, breathing heavily. His back tense and his gaze weary as he watched the last good memory he had with his daughter play out on his screen. In this light you could see the illumination on his cheeks. He’d been crying. The thought alone made you freeze. The portrait of the Miguel you knew was crumbling between your fingers, as you glanced at the screen you saw him happy, smiling. You weren’t sure if he’s done that ever since then.

You crawled out of the shadows, inching further and further down the wall next to the platform, wanting to make your presence known. When was the last time anyone comforted this man? When was the last time he wasn’t filled with grief and anger?

“Miguel?” You say softly as not to startle him, but with his lack of Spider senses he definitely was startled. He jumped and grabbed a broken monitor and threw it at you, it didn’t take much to dodge him but a look of concern painted your face.

“H-How did you get in?” He bellowed but you just hopped off the wall and onto his platform, not giving him the time of day to adjust himself to the fright you have him.

He definitely was working out again, he was bigger since you last saw him…but face to face, he seemed so deliriously exhausted.

“That’s not important right now.” You responded nonchalantly but oddly seriously at the same time.

“Why are you here?” Miguel eyes were gleaming red, he had a particularly awful few days, weeks, he didn’t need to see the horror of another face seeing who he really was. His nostrils flared as you acted so careless, who the hell did you think you were?

Your back leaned against his desk as you paused for a moment, not sure if you wanted to be truthful or not. “I wanted to see you.” You say sincerely and Miguel shot you a perplexed look. No one saw him for the sole purpose of just seeing him, not that he can recall anyways. “You aren’t the easiest person to get a hold of right now.” You raised your eyebrow at him.

“I don’t want to be.” He grunted truthfully, averting his gaze away from you before turning into the snarky Spiderman he’s known to be. “But yeah, adorable. Really, really interesting, very cute. I was going to say fuck off and leave instead but yes, this is worth my time.” He bit back sarcastically. Anger was running through your veins at his response. God, he was such an ass sometime and he needed to know but instead you did the thing you were sure to regret later: being kind to him when he was like this. You took a deep breath to regain a cool and sentient composure.

“Look, I know you’re going through a lot right now so I’m going to disregard that.”

“I don’t want you here.” Miguel pinched the bridge of his nose and fell back into his chair, completely finished with all of this.

“Well tough shit.” You glared at him, sighing and then offering a sympathetic smile.

Miguel didn’t say anything, he knew a battle with you would pour salt into the wound and prove to be fruitless. So you both sat in silence and observing each other’s purpose. The tension between you both was palpable, so you decided to test the risky waters.

“How old was Gabriella?” You say gently, giving him a trusting look. If only you could get him to open up, the panic and anxiety would start to decrease if he just talked about all of this to someone who cared about him. As much as you hated to admit it, you did.

Miguel’s face froze as you asked him that, he wasn’t sure whether to lunge at you or not by asking him such a thing. He was too tired to argue or fight, he didn’t have it in him anymore. He was breaking and he didn’t want it to be infront of you.

“Nine.” He mumbled, staring away from you as if he was ashamed. “When I lost her…she was nine.” A sliver of sadness fell through you at the sentiment. It’s a new feeling for Miguel, someone actually having the guts to ask him these things. His suspicious look starts to turn into a frown, a mixture of anger and sadness. He didn’t know what to feel.

“I know I don’t matter at all in this situation, but it’s not your fault and you deserve forgiveness.” You say sincerely, surprising both him and yourself.

Miguel felt like he had just seen a ghost, his heart felt slow as the cave of despair started to ache again, he felt like he was being suffocated. Forgiveness? He didn’t deserve any forgiveness. Not after the damage he had done. Not after the pain he inflicted. It clawed at his throat until his breath was perpetually scarce.

“Forgiveness…” He scoffed, completely dismissing the idea. “I don’t- I can’t take your forgiveness. I’m not worthy of it…” He trailed off, the lump in his throat becoming bigger and bigger.

“You work yourself too hard.” You mutter, inching closer to him, staring down at him you raise your hand reaching out for him but he grabbed your wrist.

“Don’t pity me.” He grunted and gripped tighter but you snatched your hand away with a scowl.

“I’m not pitying you. You just…You look exhausted. When was the last time you went home? Jesus, when was the last time you slept?” You ask, genuinely curious. Miguel didn’t know how to answer the question without being slightly embarrassed.

“I have nothing there. I’m needed here.” His tone was clipped and all you could do was sigh.

“Miguel…please tell me, tell me what you’re thinking. Tell me so I can help you.” You say a little more firmly than intended but it definitely got the point across. “I want to help you if you let me.”

Miguel looks at you and sighs, seeming to deflate slightly. “My mind is filled with a never ending list of tasks to complete, a never ending list of dangers to face and battles to fight, a never ending list of problems to solve... I... I don't have much peace." He rubs at his temples. “But you've already seen that, I guess.... I'm not sure how you can help me with any of this." He sighed and winced slightly when he thought of Gabriella. “All I ever wanted was a family, to be happy. Meet a nice girl, have a few kids and settle down…but I love being Spiderman and I tampered with something I had no reason to be messing with. I can’t be both. I can’t have both. Shit as for love, I don’t think I can ever get close to another woman again. I can’t lose anyone else. The last thing I need right now is a lecture about love.”

You give him a small wry smile, your hands reach forward and tuck a small tuft of hair behind his ear. Miguel froze at the small gesture of kindess and tenderness, he hadn’t felt that in so long, he hated he way he was reacting to it. You didn’t know what else to do or say, you just knew what you wanted right now. You leaned down and engulfed him in a hug, your face resting on his shoulder and your arms slung around his neck. His eyes shot wide open at the sudden gesture. He was close enough to inhale your hair and feel your skin, he hugged you back and breathed in and out, finding a semblance of peace, a moment where his mind wasn’t filled with static noise and self loathing. Your scent was…sweet and completely intoxicating if he was being honest. ‘’Thank you…” He muttered into your shoulder.

You let go and stand up straight again, offering a hand so he can stand too. You were suprised that be took it and you were more surprised to feel that his hands were…soft. “Let me take you home. I’ll make you some tea, get you to relax, yeah?” You offer gently with a little smile, hoping he would let you do this for him.

Miguel's eyes widened at your suggestion and he stared at you with hope for a moment. “Why? Why are you doing all this?” he asked. He rarely spent time with anyone outside of work. Why would you even do any of this for him?

“Because you’ve done so much for everyone else and no one has ever taken care of you. God forbid someone wants to help you and all of a sudden theres this hidden agenda.”

The realisation dawned on him, when has he let anyone get close to him? Never. Now a pretty girl wanted to take care of him, listen to his problems and make him feel deserving of the forgiveness he dreamed of. Miguel wasn’t sure if it was a delusion or crazy dream or not but he was relieved to take in your sweet scent. Maybe you had an ulterior motive, the thought made him frown. He hated feeling vulnerable and showing any kind of vulnerability was out of the question.

“I’m not leaving you tonight. Okay?” You confirm sweetly, knocking all of the air out of his lungs. He felt a strange sense of security, he felt…safe at the idea. “Come on.” You fiddled with your multiverse watch and opened a portal to his apartment, you grabbed onto his bicep and pulled him in, landing in the living room.

Jesus, it looked like it hasn’t even been lived in. Everything was clean, too clean. “Nice place.” You half joked and Miguel just shot you a smile that he was trying to conceal, it didn’t really work. Miguel felt his neck heat up, when people got to know him he was actually really shy. He sat himself on the edge of the couch, planting his elbows on his knees and raking his hands through his hair. His kitchen was walk in, expensive. As you were brewing his tea, you caught glimpses of his back, he really had been working out. You stop your mindless gawk and find his mugs and place a tea bag in two of them, you also search for his whiskey. As you poured the hot water, you splashed a little bit of whiskey. God knows he deserved it.

You walked around to couch and Miguel’s head shot up as you stood infront of him, offering him the mug. As you stood, he took an opportunity to really look at you. To survey and study you. You were…attractive, that he had no problem admitting but this…This was a new side of you he had never seen. You were showing him kindness when he didn’t even deserve it. Miguel winced slightly at the idea of letting another woman into his life, the last time that happened he lost everything, he was still weary of your intentions.

He grabbed the mug and you sat next to him, curling your feet up and facing him, gawking at him more like as you sipped your tea. This scene felt…very domestic. “Thank you…” He said, not showing any emotion, being stoic as expected.

“God stop thanking me. It’s the least I could do.” You said with a shy smile.

“It’s just…different. No one has really- Well, I haven’t been looking after myself.” He muttered

“When was the last time anyone looked out for you?” You ask, genuinely curious. He had the whole world at his feet, yet it was like he was lonely.

“Years ago, my brother Gabriel…I don’t really see him much…” It was clear he didn’t want to talk about it, but he missed his brother, he hadn’t seen him in a while. While you were in the kitchen, you saw a frame of him and his brother when they were about teenagers, playing. It warmed your heart slightly to see that he did actually care.

“You can’t let the mistakes in your past define you. It’s not who you are. Bad people don’t worry about the pain they caused. You are good.” Miguel took a moment to ponder your words, averting his gaze and then turning his head to face you.

“No you’re good.” He said gently. “It’s like being good is all you know…I’ve lost myself beneath violence and blood and chaos-“ Miguel sighed as he put the mug down on the coffee table, losing his cool for a second.

“Hey,” You grabbed onto his bicep and he shot you a startled yet curious look. “Do you trust me?”

Miguel paused, he didn’t trust people easily but after you so patiently listened to him and did all of this for him, he couldn’t say no to you. “Yeah…”

“Turn around.” Miguel did as he was told, a little confused at first, but his back was facing you. You brought your hands to his shoulders and kneaded his tense muscles. God, he was so rigid. It’s like he had never relaxed in his life. “These broad shoulders must be so exhausted.”

“Yeah…” Miguel closed his eyes, revelling in the feeling of your fingers gently caressing him. Jesus, his body was coming undone with just a few touches. Your fingers pressed and massaged his sore muscles, travelling further and further down his back.

“Is this okay?” You whisper.

Miguel let out a deep sigh, his muscles loosening under your touch. “Yes...keep going please.” Miguel's voice was still quiet but clear, and he even let out a soft groan of relief.

You travel lower, caressing and massaging the pressure points of all his soreness. “God, there’s so many knots in your back…when was the last time anyone did this for you?” You question eagerly.

Miguel closed his eyes. “...never,” he replied, his voice slightly breathy. “No one has ever..." Miguel paused. “These days no one has ever cared enough or been allowed to be so...intimate with me.” He was caught off guard by what he said. He just screwed his eyes shut and let out a deep sigh. Your presence and your soft caresses calmed his mind to his very core and relaxed his body. You noticed that Miguel, who usually always carried himself with professionalism and control...was now like a deer in headlights, unable to comprehend your touch.

You stop your actions for a moment to contemplate what he said, he’s so touch starved, he hasn’t felt the warmth of anyone else in so long. It surprised you to an immeasurable degree, women must throw themselves at him. Instead you just wrapped your arms around him from behind, nuzzling your face into his neck to take in his scent once more. Miguel was stunned into silence, you were so surprising, so understanding of how he gets, how he lets himself go. He wasn’t sure whether to cry or not, you slung your arms against his neck and all he could do is grab your hand and kiss your palm. He didn’t know how to thank you. He swore he would never get close to another woman ever again but here he was, broken down and completely at the mercy of you. He could kiss you…but then he would shatter the promise he made to himself. He would be vulnerable all over again, he’d mess it up again. What kind of idiot would he be if he didn’t learn from his past mistakes? His worst mistake? But your scent, your presence, you were just so damn inviting. God, he was a man after all… but would making you his ruin you?

#miguel o’hara angst #miguel o’hara #spiderman #spiderman 2099 #miguel o’hara x reader #miguel o’hara smut #miguel ohara x fem!reader #atsv miguel #spiderman across the spiderverse #miguel ohara x y/n #miguel ohara imagine

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hearts4court · 5 months

Note

Could you do Steve Harrington x freakishly strong fem reader? I think it would be so cute for her to just pick him up when he’s annoying her 😂. I just think the interactions would be so cute and funny.

Thank you!

Isn’t she lovely?

A/N: i actually adore this bc you could brutally beat up someone bc you’re so strong and Steve would just be like “isn’t she lovely?☺️” ^^hints the title^^

Pairing: Steve Harrington X fem!reader.

Warning: cursing, Robin third wheeling y’all, pet names(princess, babe, love, etc.), implied smut

Lemme know if i missed anything!

Visiting Steve at his job wasn’t uncommon. He loved having you there when Robin was starting to get on his nerves. And, Robin loved you there too, she loved having someone to talk to other then Steve as she didn’t have many friends.

When you walked into the video store, Robin was at the counter. She blinked at you before smiling and turning away,”Hey dingus, your princess is here!” she called out to Steve, crashing in the back of the store was heard making you laugh and Robin shake her head.

“Y/N!” Steve said, running out the back and picking you up and spinning you around.”Steve!” you giggle making him smile as you kissed his forehead.

“What are you doing here? shouldn’t YOU be working?” he asked.

“the store closed for the day because the air went out, it won’t be fixed till Friday.” you say, causing a big dorky smile to form on his face.

“Wonderful. How about you stick around for a bit? Robins driving me crazy.” he said, receiving a gasp from Robin making both of you turn your heads to the counter,

“How dare you, Harrington!” she said, making you shake your head. “Y’all act like children. Robin has an excuse, what’s yours, babe?” you joke as you hit his arm playfully.

“i hate to ruin the moment, but, dingus you have work to do.” Robin interrupted you two, receiving a groan from Steve.

“Fine.” He said as he went to pick up a box to stock up a shelf, “Here! let me help.” you say as you pick up the box with no struggle, unlike Steve.

He blinked. “What did your parents feed you as a child? steroids?” he asked in disbelief, Steve knew you were strong, but it still shocked him.

“No!” you giggle. “I just work out sometimes. And, a lot of my family is strong. It’s kinda genetic.” you say, causing him to blink more before chuckling.

“Come help me stock this shelf will you? Need someone to hold the box and Robin is to lazy.” he said as Robin flipped him off.

“Children, children. If y’all can’t behave then i’ll put y’all in time out.” you say receiving chuckles from both of them.

You brought the box to the shelf where Steve was standing and held in while he put movie tapes into their correct spot,”you’re so cute when you work, Stevie.” you say, making him blush.

Apparently, Robin heard you two, because a loud cackle was heard from over the counter. “Yeah, Stevie, you’re so cute when you stock shelves after complaining and putting it off for hours.” Robin mocked.

“Shut up, Robin!” he said, sucking his teeth.

"Steve, be nice."you say, slightly nudging him with your knee. He sighed before nodding,"Sorry, sorry."he said, glaring at Robin before taking the empty box from you.

"Hey, you know what i was thinking?" Steve asks, putting his arms around your waist, waiting for your immediate reaction to wrap your arms around his neck. "hmm?" you hum.

"How about we go on a date tonight? I know a great restaurant that just opened up, we should go there." he said, sounding a bit nervous. You couldn't help but smile and kiss his nose,"Of course. And then, we can go back to your place because..."you trailed off, "correct me if i'm wrong.." you smirked," you're parents are out of town, right?" you tease which caused him to blush and bit his lip.

"You're such a tease." he said with a soft laugh as he kissed your neck lovingly.

"but, you love me~~"you say in a low voice lightly nudging him with your hip.

"that i do, babe." he said kissing you with a dorky grin on his face.

oh how Steve loved his life.

Don’t copy, translate or repost any of my work w/o my permission.

#steve harrington x fem!plus size!reader #steve harrington x fem!reader #steve harrigton x reader #steve harrington smut #st steve #steve harrington #steve harrington x y/n smut #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x y/n fluff #steve harrington x plus sized reader

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fruityfairy-world · 2 months

Text

One Piece characters as ponies!!!!!

a fun way to unwind after a long stressful term!

here is my List as to why they are the way they are:

Zoro

- earth ponies have lots of endurance and brute strength, kinda just fits his vibes.

- “b but how will he use three swords? !” you may cry. fear not. i thought of this. i think he would have one in his mouth yes but the others he does sorta martial arts wielding to spin them and launch them, and cause he is Big he launches himself around to catch them. i feel like he’d make it a cool performance

- i didnt make him a unicorn bc i felt it was too easy for him to wield his swords that way. its zoro. he needs to be TOUGH

- cutie mark are swords bc. swords

Sanji

- unicorn because in my head the unicorns should have the weird tails and be tall

- he uses his horn for easy and professional cooking! he learned how to multitask and its what makes him so Speedy

- his legs are still super strong despite being lankier, his longer tail is also used like a whip.

- yes i gave him pants

- yes the pants are blue. truthfully i was thinming of All Blue and wanted to die that in.

- i really like his cutie mark. i made it a burning heart bc of his fire lol and also just his passion, could also be seen like he hurts himself a lot too

Nami

- cute pegasus!

- her wings let her steal faster and sneakier :3 she uses them more for agility and tricks rather than long distance flying

- cutie mark is a tangerine for obvious reasons

- i think she would have her tattoo on the other side of her body!

Robin

- unicorn because she is a smarty pants, i think she is also elegant like one.

- i imagine her devil fruit looks rlly cool with longer limbs, she would probably replicate her horn to stab when needed >:-)

- i chose for her to be a cooler toned purple because she is just. Purple! in my head.

- cutie mark flower petals. tried to make her markings look like petals too

- gave her pink eyes for fun

Usopp

- my camo king. it just felt right because he waits for the perfect moment to strike

- he isnt a pegasus or unicorn bc his strength is his brain! i feel like he’d invent things to try and be like them, but ultimately realize that his intelligence is what makes him save the day

- he can run and hide forever in the best way

- cutie mark is for his skill! a sharpshooter!!

Luffy

- i made him a zebra bc of his zoan powers. it felt right

- SO RED

- red

- still has the hat! obviously! i thiught about making his cutie mark a straw hat but that feels too easy. i almost made it a crowm but that doesnt fit his personality/morals, it feels too idk, hierarchal for him

- black tipped wings inspired by snake man :-)

let me know what u think and if i should do…gasp….more!

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garoujo · 2 years

Note

thinkin about fucking itto against the walls of the kujou clan so sara can hear how pussy drunk you make him n that she'll never have him bc he's yours <333

・✶ ｡ﾟ sometimes itto doesn’t want to wait until you both get home.

♱ warnings — f!reader, kinda vouyerism since it hints at sara hearing you both, exhibitionism, creampie, one bite + half proof read.

♱ note — hope u enjoy dis nonnie ! i hope i did ur lil suggestion justice aaaaa . itto n exhibitonism is so <3_<3

“i just got outta jail, babe—fuck, and you’re already p-pulling a stunt like this? damn, i like your style.” itto grunts from where his hulking figure is pinning you against the wall infront of you. you couldn’t wait until you both got home, and truthfully after seeing the woman who beat your oni boyfriend during the vision hunt decree you felt something unfamiliar twist in your stomach.

but you try to remind yourself that it’s your cunt he’s sinking into right now, deliberately still in earshot of the same woman who’s a lot.. prettier than you expected her to be. the thick spread of his cock has you dizzy, the weight of his body pushing you harder against the wall as he fucks you from behind, and you can’t help but arch up into him.

“goddamn, baby. missed this pussy, hugging me real tight — think it missed m-me too.. yeah it did.” itto groans, and you hope she hears, pushing his cock deeper into your stretched cunt as his large hands curl almost too tightly around your hips.

“i missed you—ah! so much.” you hiccup, it’s whispery and choked, pulling a fucked-out groan from the man above you when he lifts his eyes to look at you, gaze heavy and piercing with need. “oh yeah? i mean, oh yeah—i bet you did.”

the heavy force of itto’s hips makes your body clap against his and you feel the dizzy spin of the walls of the kujou clan overwhelm you before your eyes close in bliss. but his pace only grows faster, rougher when he feels you squeeze around him and fuck—he’s hungry for you, losing himself in the needy pull of your body as he smears drool along the dip of your shoulder.

he takes a slow, ragged breath as he sinks deep into your doughy cunt, and even in your hazy mind you can still make-out a whispered sound from the room over despite the way itto’s balls are smacking against your clit with each thrust, leaving you breathless and forcing your attention back on him.

but then your walls clench around him tighter as you push back into his thrusts, and you hear him moan, rough and shameless when his pace stutters. “hell yeah, you were made for me.. huh, baby? that’s why we m-make such a great team—phew!”

itto groans and every slam of his hips only grows more aggressive and hard the closer you come to your end, fucking every jealous thought of sara out of your head and replacing them with a reminder of just how well he fucks you — how well he loves you.

it doesn’t take long until you’re all but melting underneath him, your lips parting to cry his name — a little too loud, but you don’t care — while you cum, your pussy bearing down unbearably tight on his sensitive cock until he’s giving into you.

itto crumbles over you to press his chest against your back with a surprised grunt, sinking his sharp teeth into your shoulder to muffle his needy groans as he spills into you and pushes his hips flush against your ass — following it with a few shallow thrusts to prolong the remnants of your pleasure.

he buries his face into the crook of your neck after, his cock still twitching and softening inside of you and you swear you hear the door in the other room slam — letting it drop you back into reality before you’re shaking your suddenly drowsy boyfriend and he’s snorting, almost proud.

“uh, yeah.. i think we gotta leave, babe. i just got outta jail, so i guess i’m kinda on probation right now.”

#݁ . ࿓ : sealed#genshin impact smut #genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader #genshin x you #genshin smut #arataki x you #arataki itto x reader #arataki itto smut #itto x reader #itto smut #itto x you

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blinkpen · 4 months

Text

nother lil life update!

appointment with housing admin lady got rescheduled to tuesday, but that's not too big a deal since that is the soonest day they could officially open up that apartment for me anyway, so if the answer was going to be yes, rescheduling when i get the yes to said day, doesn't delay the move-in, except by like, maybe, one more additional day of just. going back to get/move my stuff? so i am Unbothered and maintain the same level of cautious optimism leaned optimism as before

and again my stress level is way lower now knowing there is likely a light at the end of the tunnel (hell that a tunnel even EXISTS now) and mom is, at least for now, sobered by the intervention of other adults for whom going

"ummmmm but the very existence of trans identity is a personal attack against me and my beliefs bc i believe their existence is blasphemous they stole the rainbow from christians and desecrated the noah's arc story that's why i'm so mean to [not my fucking pronoun] whenever anything remotely close to the topic of gender comes up, asking nicely to so mach as -gag noises- humor they/them is a deliberate attack on me first, and forcing the queer agenda on me, so i get to attack back with full venom unloaded and vote in favor of making queer peoples' lives more difficult if not impossible, so like, i'm the victim actually? [not my fucking pronoun] needs to stop being so entitled and unholy and learn to deal with Different Opinions and stop Undermining me"

will not fucking fly and she can't make inflict Power Word: Guilt Trip to make them crumple away the way she does to me to instantly win and make the argument stop so she is now not pushing buttons and keeping her toxicity to herself methinks bc "ah fuck, an actually benevolent authority figure nobody in town would question is looking at how much my grown but wingclipped and disabled child's mental and now physical health has deteriorated to life-threateningly poor levels and looking in my direction while Knowing details i cannot possibly spin in my favor to outside observers; the only people who'd swoop in to take my side would only make me look worse by association, though i'll probably still refuse to think about The Implications of that, so i will Be Mask On now about it if nothing else"

like she got a stark fucking reminder i think of the fact she is a mean person who publicly boasts about being mean because she thinks its funny and also equates being smart with being cynical and therefore if you're aggressively cynical you're automatically smarter than whoever you are talking to or about, and is the kind of person who literally owns a "leftist tears" coffee mug, while claiming herself a Good christian just because she didn't kick me out for being queer like the Bad christians do, but like, she can still give me shit for being queer as much as she likes and if i stand up for myself i'm an ungrateful little bitch, those are her Vibes,

and being that way, makes it hard to defend yourself as totally innocent of any wrongdoing and victim-blame someone most people in town know, by contrast, as "the borderline mute Always a Hoodie n Headphones kid who spends a lot of time just wandering around town for the heck of it and seems a bit touched in the head/lost in their own little world, but is unfailingly friendly if you do try to talk to them for whatever reason, and will sincerely ask if they could be of any assistance to anyone who enters their cone of vision who seems to be in a pickle" once they start developing what seems like a wasting illness and an aura of hopelessness they didn't have before and finally show up at the hospital looking like they're about to drop dead from what is clearly several months of physiological stress and self-neglect and they don't even have their meds handy because you locked their disabled ass out in retaliation for leaving for one single night because you wouldn't stop screaming at them about how their gender thing is blasphemous and [checks notes] eavesdropping in on them while they shower to make sure not even their anguished crying and muttering to themself even in there isn't saying anything you don't like??? what the f-

even the crusty old farmer i know who i guess probably would go "not sure i like that but whatever" about transness otherwise enters "now what makes you think that makes [not my pronoun but i forgive bc its not done Maliciously] less of a person, what makes you think that's okay" mode over that

lol, said the frog, as a human hand scoops it out of the water just in time, and places it on a nice log where it may recover from the sting, while pointing to the sinking scorpion suggesting they go to therapy instead of stinging everyone around them and going "but i'm a scorpion so that means i am not responsible for my actions and nobody is allowed to expect better of me" lmao,

okay that went from a life update to me venting a bit? but. i eared that i think, it helps keep my grounded, hoenstly.

anyway we gotta send my doc a fruit basket or somn

#cw for discussions of transphobia and all that

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archie-sunshine · 5 months

Text

Survey Says-! (18+ Rodimus/EVERYONE)

Chapter 5: Software Update (Rodimus/Brainstorm/Perceptor)

Rodimus is NOT bitter about the results of the crew satisfaction survey, in fact, he’s fully prepared to change! He’s determined to change his crew’s minds, and what better way to do so than to get to know them- in the carnal sense that is.

There are no problems with this plan in Rodimus’s mind. There are many in Ultra Magnus’s. Magnus engages in some unfortunate(for Rodimus) damage control as head of Cybertronian Resources. Rodimus is not easily deterred.

Other Chapters Here! Read On AO3 Here!

____________________________

FIC TAGS: Rodimus/Everyone(But y’know, not like. EVERYONE. Just a lot of various background characters and also more specifically with some others), Takes place post dark cybertron, but pre the whole ship disappearing thing and the mutiny, smut, Chastity, denial, Rodimus is a slut, Ongoing humiliation, HR Violations as comedy, Ultra Magnus is clueless, sticky sexual interfacing, comedy, sexual comedy, dubious consent (if you squint and tilt your head), contains illustrations

____________________________

Authors notes: Okay you guys simply MUST hear me out on this one okay? this one was the fun chapter for archie to have fun writing. okay? okay. btw this chapter is extra long bc it kinda got away from me

CHAPTER TAGS: Plug n play, brain fuckery, submission, bondage, brief loss of bodily control, threesome, throatfucking, thigh fucking, rodimus is ignored in favour of whatever the fuck percey and brainstorm have going on

The broken dataslug felt like it was a thousand tons bouncing around in Rodimus’s subspace. He could keep kicking himself about his fuck up, and probably would be for the forseeable future, but he was on the way to fix things. He could faintly hear the sounds of work down the hallway from the lab, the fizzle of sparks and the whirr of machinery. Rodimus prayed that he’d catch Perceptor alone again.

He tried not to feel too upset when he heard the sounds of conversation floating from the laboratory.

“-mit its impressive, certainly, but the scale is a bit much for our current facilities, wouldn’t you think?” Perceptor’s voice reached Rodimus first, even and calm even slightly shouted over the sound of the power tools working.

“You lack vision, dear Percey, I think we could absolutely handle it!!” Brainstorm called back.

Rodimus paused, waiting for something from Nautica before approaching the door. He started as the door swung open on its own, the aforementioned femme jolting at the sight of him. “Oh! Hello captain.” She greeted, offering a cheery little smile.

“Nautica.” Rodimus smiled back politely. His finials twitched a bit as he felt her field tense back against her just a bit too late to hide the knowingness in it. He attempted to retain a cool demeanor. “Where are you off to?”

“Just on my way out!” she chirped, averting optic contact. “Going to Swerve’s, maybe I’ll see you there later, bye!” The bot scooted around him, ducking under his spoiler and trotting off down the hallway.

“Rodimus?” Perceptor called from within.

Slag. He could already hear the sound of work halting as his presence became fully known. The speedster stepped into the lab, the door closing behind him with a pneumatic hiss. “Yes, hi, sorry for dropping by unexpectedly.”

“...Again?” Perceptor added, biting back a smirk. He was sitting at one of his work stations, in the process of putting something together that Rodimus had no hope of understanding. Brainstorm was similarly engaged, though as Rodimus had entered he’d taken the time to spin lazily around in his seat, resting his cheek knowingly in his palm with a suggestive look in his eyes.

“... Yes. Again.” Rodimus muttered.

“And how could us two geniuses be of help, Rodimus?” Brainstorm prompted, amusement clear in his tone. A flare of heat churned in Rodimus’ tanks, his optics flicking back and forth between the other two mech’s faceplates. “... What’s with these looks, what’s going on here?” Rodimus snapped out, crossing his arms.

Brainstorm snorted involuntarily, quickly resetting his vocalizer. “WELL, Perceptor was just recently telling us about a very interesting project he worked on-”

“YOU TOLD??” Rodimus blurted out incredulously, mortification washing over his frame. It wasn’t as if he was mad at Perceptor for kissing and telling, in fact he hoped most of his partners were inclined to do so. It was more… the whole vulnerability of the matter, that someone else knew he’d been desperate enough to ask for help.

Perceptor shrugged a bit. “I talk about my projects with Brainstorm most of the time we work in the lab.” Projects. Rodimus fought off a shiver. That was what he was in his eyes, then, a project… that should have been insulting, probably.

“Good for morale.” Brainstorm agreed, beaming at his lab partner. He then turned back to Rodimus, all affection in his expression melting out in favour of a mocking smile. “You’d know all about morale, wouldn’t you, captain?”

If he weren’t already in enough trouble with cybertronian resources, Rodimus might have throttled him. “Yep.” He gritted out instead. “Look- I just need a new copy of the… project you gave me.”

Perceptor cocked his head in confusion. “A new copy? Is there something wrong with the last one I gave you, Rodimus?”

Rodimus shriveled. It was embarrassing enough to come crawling back, it was embarrassing enough to ask for a new one, but now with someone else- someone else not sworn to secrecy(with some apparent caveats)- in the lab? This was torture.

He sheepishly reached into his subspace, pawing around for a moment as he approached Perceptor’s desk. He daintily set the crushed dataslug on the table there, offlining his optics in preparation for the reaction.

Rodimus was right to do so, clearly, as Brainstorm burst into laughter. Perceptor cleared his vocalizer, clearly covering up a snicker of his own as he prodded at the shattered circuitry with a stylus. “... You broke it already?”

Rodimus looked away, fidgeting uncomfortably under the two scientists' gazes. “... I actually broke it the same night you gave it to me-”

“THE SAME NIGHT??!” Brainstorm gawked, now peering over Rodimus’ shoulder. “Oh you poor thing.” He crooned mockingly, patting him on his back plating gently.

Perceptor reached into a drawer of his desk, absently picking out a new dataslug and placing it on the table. “Alright, you have a seat Rodimus, I’ll get you a new one.”

Rodimus blinked. “Oh- You don’t need me back on the-” He gestured at the table he’d been on during his last visit.

Perceptor finally glanced up from his work, raising a brow ridge at him. “... No? I have all my work backed up here.” He said, wiggling a datapad in his hand.

“Oh. Okay.” Rodimus blushed a bit, feeling stupid for assuming. It wasn’t as if he’d wanted to spend another half hour getting toyed with and experimented on like some sort of science project… He’d just come to get a new copy of his magic overload stick, that was all.

This was a good thing.

Rodimus wasn’t disappointed even a bit.

Brainstorm brushed past him, now leaning over Perceptor’s shoulder to read the datapad. He mouthed the glyphs on the screen, brows knitting together as he squinted at the lines of code.

“Feh.” Brainstorm sniffed finally, rolling his optics.

Perceptor paused, turning to face the other with a pointed look. “What?”

“... I don’t know, I just feel like you played it a bit safe, Percey.” Brainstorm said. He had that tone to his voice that he only seemed to get when he was trying to play it cool while also silently begging you to ask him what he meant by that.

“What do you mean by that?” Perceptor scoffed.

“I don’t know, I just…” He leaned back, arranging his frame into a haughtier, annoyingly smug pose. He examined his digits nonchalantly. “... Expected it to be a little bit more interesting.”

Rodimus swallowed, optics bouncing between the two of them. “Interesting…?” He mumbled out.

“Well, the client in question didn’t ASK for interesting, he asked for some help, and I gave it to him, and he was happy with it!” Perceptor huffed, spinning in his chair to further face Brainstorm.

“And I’m sure he was! I’m only saying that there are a lot more interesting ways one could have solved the problem, and your methods of efficiency are always very admirable, Percey.” Brainstorm put his servos up placatively, his tone infuriatingly condescending.

Perceptor scoffed again, standing up from his seat. “Well, if you’re so certain you could have done a better job, why don’t you prove it, Brainstorm?” He sneered, jabbing an accusatory digit into Brainstorm’s chest. How Perceptor managed to remain oblivious to the giddiness in Brainstorm’s field was a mystery to Rodimus, it was nearly bowling him over.

“I’d be happy to!” Brainstorm grinned, swinging his helm around to face Rodimus. “What do you say, Captain?”

Rodimus thought for a long few klikks. Brainstorm was just as smart as Perceptor, he could likely play Rodimus’s processor like an instrument just like him too, but his disposition was generally more… unpredictable… in a way that might not have been conducive to his goals.

“... Fine, but I don’t want to hear about anyone else hearing about this, okay?” Rodimus conceded. It was only when he saw the look in Brainstorm’s optics go from excited to elated that Rodimus considered he might have made the wrong choice.

Rodimus was beginning to feel like a bit of a third wheel. Which was odd, because it was him who was currently laying on an examination slab, tilted just a bit upright, while the two scientists bickered over him. He could see his own diagnostics and files brought up on a myriad of screens and datapads that Brainstorm had hooked up around him. Rodimus wriggled uncomfortably on the slab, itching a bit at Brainstorm’s plug in his diagnostic port. He felt less like a mech and more like a missile the scientist was working on. The thought made Rodimus’ plating feel hot and uncomfortable.

“Well see, there’s the problem-” Brainstorm tsked, snapping Rodimus from his thoughts as his servo came down to grip the crest of his helm and tip it to show Perceptor the interfacing port on it’s back. “Who puts an interfacing port at the back of someone’s head?”

“H-hey!” Rodimus started, giving Brainstorm a pointed glare.

“Ahh… I see, that definitely could pose an issue then.” Perceptor nodded a bit.

“Not if you use a topical patch instead of a plug.” Brainstorm waved his servo dismissively, releasing Rodimus’s helm to return to his work.

“But then that makes it harder to take off if you want to stop.” Perceptor said, as if it were an obvious problem.

Brainstorm just laughed, “I have many doubts that Rodimus would worry about stopping.”

“I can- I’m still here you know!” Rodimus snapped.

“Well then you can answer our query then, would you feel more comfortable with a datastick or a topical patch?” Perceptor asked, holding up either one in his servos. Rodimus turned his helm to consider them.

“Uhh-” He began, cut off quickly when he felt the shiver of a command being typed into his processor.

[Action input- Test- Tactile sensors]

Rodimus felt a shudder ripple over his body, each of his sensory inputs warming up briefly before turning off, showing each one was in proper working order. The mech rolled his digits into fists, letting out a shaky vent. “E-either one is fine- I don’t- I don’t care.” He offered helpfully.

Perceptor frowned and sighed. “Fine then.” He broke his attention off from Rodimus when he heard another chuckle from Brainstorm, his frown sharpening.

“Ahh, Perceptor… Really, this code is just adorable, it’s like you didn’t even think of all the ways one can manipulate a sexual code.” Brainstorm mused, mostly to himself.

[Action input- Stimulus reaction- Anterior node- 50%]

Going from zero sensory input to fifty directly on his node was not what Rodimus would describe as ‘cool’ or ‘fun’. A sudden shout punched itself from Rodimus’ chest, his hips jumping off the table as if his valve were attempting to escape the pressure. His pedes came down with a clang, his body arched up in a quivering bridge. “A-AH- FRAG- Brainstorm-!” Rodimus gritted out, waiting for the stimulation to go as he squirmed.

“See, you probably noticed a big amount of his pleasure based coding centers around his valve, right, but-” Brainstorm started to explain, gesturing with his stylus at one of the screens for Perceptor’s benefit. Rodimus blearily noted the diagram was some quick three dimensional mockup of his array. “You know even if a majority of the frame’s favoured stimulant nodes are in one place, it doesn’t mean you-”

“BRAINSTORM!!” Rodimus wailed out, still writhing. The pleasure was burning, his body alight with charge demanding a place to go.

[Cease action input]

Brainstorm sighed and rolled his optics as Rodimus went limp on the table. The whole situation would be sexy if Rodimus were more into the blatant negligence the two of them were clearly treating him to. He tried to focus on steadying his fans as they kicked on.

“As I was saying, I think there are more interesting nodes you could stimulate, in addition to those in the array, to give a more interesting experience.” Brainstorm finished. “At least for a project as boring as ‘data stick that makes you overload’ anyway.”

“B-boring? Primus, Brainstorm, I should’ve considered how scientifically stimulating my own problems were for you before coming here, that’s on me.” Rodimus huffed out indignantly, pinning the jet with a glare.

“Oh, your problems are incredibly scientifically stimulating Rodimus, I can think of a dozen ways to solve your whole panels plight off the top of my head, but Perceptor chose the most boring solution-” Brainstorm rambled exasperatedly, going through a few more codes before hitting the enter button on his datapad.

[Action input- test- oral tactile sensitivity]

[Action input- test- audial sensitivity]

[Action input- test- tactile sensitivity- thigh and hip plating]

Rodimus squirmed. His optics flickered a bit as his processor fought to follow all commands at once. A fuzzy, tingly wash came over his glossa and dentas, then the same over his thigh and hip plating, as if someone were stroking over each bit of plating very lightly. Finally, his audials became suddenly more sensitive, taking in each minute whirr and buzz of the room around him. The sensations came to a slow, easing stop after only a few seconds, leaving Rodimus with an odd feeling in his tanks.

“Boring?” Rodimus finally breathed out, glancing at Brainstorm.

Brainstorm didn’t make optic contact with him, he was too busy inputting commands. “Yes, boring.”

“Would you mind enlightening us then, Brainstorm, on what the dozen other ideas you had are?” Perceptor prompted, folding his arms and leaning back in his seat.

[Action input- Sensory stimulus reaction- valve calipers(1-10) 15%]

[Action input- Sensory stimulus reaction- valve nodes(1-6, 10-18) 10%]

Rodimus moaned lowly, offlining his optics and gritting his dentas. That felt more familiar, his valve squeezing around a phantom sensation, more akin to digits than a full sized spike.

“Well if we wanted to go closer to brute force, there’s technically nothing in the statement ‘crew members are not allowed to remove the magnetizer until the period of punishment is over’ doesn’t extend to one… applying a local anesthetic and removing the lower modesty panels entirely.” Brainstorm started.

“N-no- thats- I don’t want that thanks-” Rodimus’s tanks squeezed uncomfortably. His legs instinctively came together around his panels, earning him a tap from Brainstorm’s stylus.

“Keep those open please, I need to keep an eye on your panels. In fact you could do with squirming a lot less- Ah, don’t worry.” Brainstorm was speaking a thousand miles a minute, leaving Rodimus’s already foggy head spinning.

[Action input- disengage automotive directives from user: Rodimus- neck down]

Rodimus’s entire body went slack with a thud as his legs hit the slab. He let out a choked off cry, willing his frame to move and finding himself limp as a ragdoll.

“W-wait!” Rodimus squeaked out.

“Don’t panic, your body is in good servos, Roddy.” Brainstorm cooed, patting his leg briefly before going back to his work. “Now, I know you’re still keeping up those one on ones, right, Captain?”

“Y-yeah- Hey, listen, I know I move a lot but this is-” Rodimus began to protest, trying his hardest to ignore the ongoing sensation in his valve.

“Relax. I’ve got a way to make those more fun for you if you’re going to be using your intake…~” Brainstorm sing songed, his optics scrunching in an impish little smile. “Here, hold on, I’ll give you your body back in a second, just-” He began, rolling his seat away out of Rodimus’s view and returning with a few yellow painted metal loops. He handed two of them to Perceptor, who seemed to understand the idea just fine as the two of them arranged Rodimus’s limp form into a wide, spread out X shape.

Rodimus dimly felt the familiar sensation of four magnetizer cuffs activating and latching to the metal of the table. “W-why the frag do you even have those in your lab-?” Rodimus asked.

“Don’t ask.” Brainstorm answered, “They’ll just keep you in place for me while I work alright? Do I have your consent to mess with your mouth?” He made a show of asking, clearly more for Perceptor’s benefit than Rodimus’

[Action input- previous input disengaged]

Rodimus was quiet for a moment, the ongoing feelings in his array making him feel like he was about to start leaking. He gave his restraints a testing wiggle, finding himself stuck, but still able to squirm, to a more controlled degree. He cleared his vocalizer, his intake feeling dry as he spoke. “... Yeah okay.”

Brainstorm’s optics flashed just long enough for Rodimus to feel regret before the data inputs came through.

[Action input- cease all inputs- area:Valve]

[Action input- reduce gag reflex- 100%]

[Action input- increase tactile sensitivity- Glossa-60%]

[Action input- increase tactile sensitivity- Dermas-60%]

[Action input- increase tactile sensitivity- Intake- 40%]

[Action input- increase oral lubricant production- 50%]

[Action input- sensory link- tactile oral sensation = pleasure center activation]

Rodimus was overwhelmed for a moment, letting out a glitchy, confused grunt as his intake tingled with sudden sensation. He ran his glossa over his dentas experimentally, turning more pink at the shudder of pleasure that ran down his spinal strut at the feeling. “Oh- Brainst- ah-” Rodimus wheezed. Even just moving his mouth to speak felt oddly good, every brush of his tongue over the expanse of his palate suddenly feeling charged with arousal.

“A brief look at your more recent updated data in your pleasure centers shows general intake sensitivity has already had some spikes on its own, I’ve just..” Brainstorm trailed off, reaching out to playfully tap Rodimus’ lip with his stylus. The feeling sent tingles down Rodimus’ frame directly to his panels. “Heightened the effect. You can call me a genius now.”

Rodimus groaned weakly, too busy squirming in his bindings to pay the scientist much mind. The feeling was weird, good, but weird. He appreciated the thought but it wasn’t like he wanted to go around getting a reputation for finishing just from oral. He had some semblance of dignity to uphold.

A semblance of dignity he was apparently giving up for the time being as he greedily ran his glossa against the roof of his intake, sending sparks skittering across his plating. Rodimus keened, optics flickering and going dim with want.

“Really, this is just gratuitous.” Perceptor scoffed, his faceplate bright pink from Rodimus’ lascivious display. He turned his vision away from him to Brainstorm. “When do you have the time to think of this kind of… thing?”

“Unimportant,” Brainstorm dismissed, standing up and setting his datapad aside. “I have more tests I’d like to run! Rodimus, be a dear and open wide for me?” The scientist patted Rodimus’ cheek, holding his stylus up and wiggling it between two fingers.

The captain complied, letting his jaw drop open and his tongue hang out.

“Very good, Rodimus.” Brainstorm cooed, running the edge of his stylus slowly down the flat of the other mech’s glossa. Rodimus’s valve cycled and squeezed around nothing, his spike twitching and stirring in its housing.

“Nnghhuhuuuhh…” Rodimus answered intelligently. He dimly heard Perceptor clear his vocalizer, but chose not to care, instead opting to curl his glossa around the edge of the stylus and stroke against it.

Brainstorm chuckled, freeing his stylus and running it along Rodimus’s top derma. “It’s very easy to remap pleasure centers to elsewhere in someone’s frame, I could do this to anywhere you liked, but I figured this would be the most advantageous, yes?”

“Y-yeahh…” Rodimus mumbled breathlessly, trying to keep himself as under control as possible. He shook his helm to try and clear the fogginess in it, only to let out a wanton moan when Brainstorm’s free servo came down on his helm crest to hold him still.

“Try not to thrash so much, or I’ll have to take your bodily control away again, and we don’t want that, do we?” Brainstorm hissed, before letting go of his stylus in favour of gripping Rodimus’ tongue between his middle and index digit. Rodimus’ squirmed, trying to hold his helm still as his back arched up off the table. He felt like his whole frame was on fire in the strangest way. He fought to keep from making a further fool of himself, but it was a losing battle. Brainstorm released his glossa, instead shifting his servo to pet his digits over the surface of it.

Rodimus moaned dumbly and began to suck at them on reflex, letting his optics fully go offline as Brainstorm worked his digits gently in his mouth.

Brainstorm leaned down, chuckling as he murmured hotly in Rodimus’ audial. “And I could go further than this, too, I could increase some more of your priorities, make every bit of these ‘apologies’ make you-”

“Alright, I think that’s- that’s quite enough, Brainstorm.” Perceptor interjected. Brainstorm drew his digits from the captain’s mouth with a wet pop, standing back up straight. Rodimus definitely didn’t crane his neck after his servo, and absolutely did not let out an embarrassing noise at having his mouth empty.

“Oh not at all!! We haven’t even tested his throat’s responses!” Brainstorm feigned ignorance at the lewdness of it all, putting his still wet servo on his hip as he gestured across Rodimus’ coolant slick frame. “I’m going to put my spike in his mouth and see-”

Perceptor sputtered for a moment. “This is hardly scientific-”

“Well sure, but it’s more fun if you pretend it is, isn’t it?” Brainstorm chirped, stepping around the side of the table to stand by Rodimus’ head. He hit a button on a nearby console and the slab tilted back until Rodimus’ helm was level with Brainstorm’s modesty panel, at which point Brainstorm carefully rearranged the other bot so that his head was hanging languidly over the edge of the table. “How are you doing down there, Roddy?”

“F-feels weird… good…” Rodimus panted. Had he been more eloquent at the time he might have said something like ‘it feels like my panels are going to fall off’ or ‘please put something in me’, but Rodimus’ foggy mind somehow spared him that added embarrassment. He simply stared at Brainstorm’s panels hopefully, letting out a relieved whine as he saw them transform away.

“Yeah… thats good, I’m glad. Percey, if you wouldn’t mind monitoring the datascreens while I test?” Brainstorm asked, absently petting over Rodimus’ jaw and neck as he coaxed his spike from it’s housing.

“Er- Of course, thats just fine.” Perceptor agreed, turning to watch the readouts with his faceplate almost entirely pink.

Rodimus craned his neck out to Brainstorm’s slowly extending spike, hungry for it in a way he’d never felt before. The first brush of the tip against his dermas sent shivers down his back strut, his engines revving involuntarily as he rolled his tongue against the slit. All this teasing and excess charge couldn’t be good for him, but by this point, Rodimus hardly cared.

He let out a grateful moan as Brainstorm slid his spike carefully into Rodimus’ intake. The captain was vaguely aware at this point that he was salivating more than usual as a ribbon of oral solvent slid headily down his cheeks. Rodimus was startled at the ease with which Brainstorm managed to press his spike into his throat, but any untoward feelings about the matter melted away, replaced with arousal and desperation as his body blazed with charge. He sucked greedily at the intrusion in his mouth, laving his tongue over the topside of Brainstorm’s spike.

“Aaahh, that’s just wonderful-” Brainstorm sighed out, leaning over Rodimus’ body to stroke his servos over the speedster’s overcharged chassis. “I’m so good it scares me sometimes.”

Perceptor chuckled dryly. “All vitals look to be reacting normally. Though, the lack of gag reflex could pose some worries couldn’t it?”

“Oh, you’re too cautious.” Brainstorm dismissed him, beginning to pump his hips into Rodimus’ throat. He disregarded the muffled groans Rodimus was making in favour of teasing his digits along the sensitive edges of the other mech’s spoiler.

“Hardly! I just think things through longer than you do.” Perceptor chuckled again, but there was a note of breathlessness to his voice.

Again, that was probably lost on Rodimus, who was too busy straining his wrists against his restraints in an attempt to grab Brainstorm and press his spike even further into his mouth. He needed it, needed it in a way the other mech couldn’t hope to understand. He swallowed his own drool uselessly, mewling at the feeling of his throat tightening and rippling against the scientist’s spike. He thought he might die if he didn’t keep using him. Every intrusion was getting to him, the feeling of his digits groping at his prone form, the weight of the spike in his mouth, the burning connection of the plug in his diagnostic port. He was helpless. The feeling was so alien, so wrong, so frightening, and yet all Rodimus could do was moan for more.

“Mm-muh-!” He moaned out, gurgling in mindless ecstasy as Brainstorm redoubled his efforts of pounding into his mouth.

“You seem a little bothered, Percey~...” Brainstorm cooed to his partner mockingly. “Is something wrong?”

Perceptor reset his vocalizer with a meaningful click. “No- Nothing, its uhm… only a very… unprofessional display…”

“Well… I’m sure he wouldn’t mind helping you out as well, if all this… unprofessionalism is making it hard for you to focus…!” Brainstorm’s words were heavy with implication and lust, each snap of his hips rocking Rodimus’ frame. The meaning behind his retort finally dawned on Rodimus’ groggy mind, and the bound mech writhed and squirmed, drool bubbling from his lips as he whimpered in need. “See?” Brainstorm chuckled darkly, thumbing lightly at the bulge his spike left in Rodimus’ throat.

It was hard for Rodimus to focus on much other than the weight in his mouth, so he continued to worship, rolling his glossa over each node and biolight and ridge, drinking in each involuntary twitch and gasp Brainstorm let out. He hardly noticed when the magnets on his ankles came away, barely gave any mind as the table below his lower half bowed out, only really giving the movement any mind when he felt Perceptors delicate servos grasping his thighs. His digits seared against Rodimus’ leaking, overcharged panels, making the captain buck and squirm and squeal around Brainstorm’s spike.

“R-Rodimus, is this alright with you?” Perceptor asked, voice heavy with need. Rodimus nearly cried out when Brainstorm pulled his hips back to allow him to respond.

He coughed and swallowed, his mouth drowned in oral solvent and prefluid. “G-hhahh- Go f-for it, please- f-frag- anything-” Rodimus babbled, leaning out to try and get the spike back into his mouth. He whined low in his vocalizer as Brainstorm slipped his spike back home, soothingly petting over Rodimus’ chassis and neck. Rodimus went slack under the two mechs’ ministrations, luxuriating in the rolling sensation crashing over his frame. He felt Perceptor’s spike pressurize between his slick thighs, drinking in the gasp he let out as it slid against the charged heat of his modesty panel.

Rodimus could hardly tell the magnetizer was there anymore, the ache of his array was negligible when compared to the heat of the spikes in and against him and the servos gripping at his dewy plating. His mind went blank, arcs of charge rippling over his body with each thrust, both of the other mecha grounding their own lust through him. Rodimus was lost in it, swallowing intakefuls of solvent and fluid, face growing sticky and messy as his mouth hummed with perverse delight.

He could feel every bit of his plating vibrating, every inch of metal and protoform alight with need. Pleasure gathered heavy in his tanks, drawing him closer and closer to the edge. He couldn’t get enough, squirming between the two scientists, puffs of hot air filling the room with steam. He swallowed around Brainstorm’s spike and felt his valve clench under his panels. Perceptor’s spike between his thighs sped up with a punched out moan from the microscope, his digits digging into Rodimus’ plating and threatening to leave scratches there.

Rodimus felt Brainstorm’s rhythm begin to stutter, his servos coming down to grip the table as he chased after his overload desperately. “O-Oh- Perceptor-” Brainstorm huffed out, steam billowing from the slits in his mask.

Rodimus might have been offended. He should have been offended. The blatant way with which the scientist ignored him, even as he spent his overload down Rodimus’ throat should have made the captain bitter. But instead that heat just gripped him deeper, his engines roaring with lust as Rodimus himself tumbled over into his own climax. His body was strung out taught, writhing and groaning in ecstasy. Transfluid spilled from his dermas and over his face, spurting in equal measure around the seams of his modesty panels and magnetizer. He dimly heard Perceptor gasp and moan at the display, and keened as he felt jets of fluid paint lewdly up his abdomen and across his chassis.

Rodimus laid bare, steaming, panting as Brainstorm slowly dragged his spike out of his intake. Rodimus’ head swirled. He barely recognized the feeling of Brainstorm unplugging his diagnostic cable, hardly noted the stickiness coating the better part of his faceplate and crotch. He allowed himself to bask, savouring the afterglow of his much needed overload as it hung cloyingly to his frame.

Rodimus couldn’t help but feel like he was being rushed out. By the time he was being ushered to the door, he was still a bit out of sorts, a topical patch containing the affectionately named ‘intake interface initiative’ code in his servo.

“Let me know if there are any bugs even though I know there won’t be! And happy trails, take care, buh-bye!” Brainstorm said hurriedly, offering a slightly breathless grin as he shoved Rodimus through the door of the laboratory.

“Uh- Yeah, thanks for-” Rodimus was only able to get the sentence halfway out before the door slid closed behind him. He let out a long, tired sigh, massaging his vocalizer lightly. It was a little bit raw, for good reason. “... Cool.” He muttered, beginning his trek back to his office.

Rodimus eyed the topical patch in its casing, flipping it between his fingers casually. He wouldn’t admit this to Brainstorm or Perceptor(or probably anyone else), but the thing kind of scared him. He was certain there had to be some other bug in there that made his processor work wrong, otherwise he wouldn’t have… well he wouldn’t have gotten so into whatever that was.

He reminded himself frequently what these meetings were: a means to an end. He was getting to know his crew better, he was making a connection, he was showing them he was dependable and generous. What was more generous than sucking spike? Not much, from Rodimus’ point of view.

It was weird to let himself get so lost in the whole matter, like that code had made him do. Yeah, made him. That was it. It wasn’t so bad to let himself enjoy the attention now and then, especially when he’d actually been able to use his array during, but if he got that carried away… just from sucking someone off? That was a bit embarrassing.

Some part of him considered the situation- prone, experimented upon, disregarded but praised, teased… used. It couldn’t have been any of those feelings that had made him act that way.

It was the code!

It must have been.

Rodimus shook his helm, tucking the patch into his subspace delicately. Some parts of his plating still felt sticky, his jaw ached, his vocalizer was raw, there were black paint transfers around his thighs and hips from Perceptor’s groping. He looked like a cheap shareware whore.

…

Rodimus closed out the prompt in his processor to open his panels for what felt like the thousandth time. He let the door to his office close behind him and sat uncomfortably at his desk.

He eyed the fresh stack of datapads and the order his workspace had been brought to and frowned. Ultra Magnus had been there while he was away. Again.

Rodimus took a long, deep vent in.

Just 5 more cycles until his midway meeting with Ultra Magnus. He’d lie his aft off about how much he’d changed, he’d get that magnetizer off, and then things would go back to normal. He’d get through the list once and for all, and everyone would finally recognize how much he did for his crew.

Rodimus briefly considered what it would look like having to endure another 16 cycles if he was unable to convince him.

He swallowed thickly and did the unthinkable to keep his mind off that grim idea.

Rodimus started working on his datapads.

#valveplug #transformers #mtmte #transformers mtmte #/nsfw #my fic #my art #rodimus #brainstorm #perceptor #brainrodceptor #?? is that the ship name? idk #maccadam

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ganondoodle · 6 months

Text

a sort of mini-rant .. or more a personal opinion of totk; most my issues with it are probably clear by now, given how much i have talked about it, its probably also rather clear that i dont like the sonau (engl zonai) very much the way they were done in the game and its got lots of reason that all play into each other-

tho to mention something that is much more personal taste; i dont think sonau tech is actually that much 'tech', its mostly just magic animating some green rocky looking material or creating flames and rockets kinda out of nowhere

im someone that loves mechanical stuff, like old mechanisms, the first cars and first versions of technology, steam trains and such, i think its in part bc i like knowing the context of things, how stuff WORKS, and why it is or how it makes sense, huge metal beams attached to countless cogs, hearing the steam shoot out of the kettle(?) that powers a huge maschinery ... steampunk if you will

and shiekah tech, while obviously not exactly like that, still has some mechanical parts to it, sure its also magical, powered by some unkown material, but its got bits and pieces that move, it looks like something that seems pretty believable, if you look into a guardians ... hole at the flipside of it (you know what i mean) theres stuff that moves, glowy cogwheels and more, pipes and cores, you can see it between their 'head' and body too, you find springs and screws on broken ones, even the cores have some mechanism around it, and while being automatic and doing stuff on their own .. they are not sentient, not in the way sonau constructs are at least (listen i, in realy life, think of pretty much anythign inanimate as a sentient thing in a way, but maybe you know what i mean, i also like when things cannot just talk directly to you -also a reason i like silent characters- and instead you have to work a little or just ... pay attention to understand it?) (this also kidna goes for the shrine puzzles? like you often had to work with some sort of mechanical thing to get to the end of the shrine in botw, in totk you mostly just kinda glue stuff together and it .. just works?? not a fan of that tbh tho the shrine puzzles where one of the most fun parts nonetheless)

the sonau 'tech' isnt that, really, the most mechanical thing is a wheel or fan spinning? but all other stuff either just works (like rockets and stuff) or its a bunch of floating rings vaguely held together by some magical swirly string, and the constructs literally talk to you, like characters, while still being treated as nothing but 'maschines', i got nothing against magical maschinery (heck i love the shiekah stuff) but thats like .. too far removed from actual mechanisms to hit the right spot for me, that combined with the strange super modern look of some things (like the wheels, and kinda nonsensical steering thing, the rockets that just .. look like literal rockets with a vaguely rock looking texture over it .. etc) it made it all the more bleh to me

and while its far from a deal breaker it just adds another grain of salt on my opinion of the sonau things in general and the game as a whole (especially considering that lame ass excuse to just act like shiekah tech never existed ... ill never forgive them for that)

#ganondoodles talks #zelda #totk #ganondoodles rants #not really #but still taggign as such since it kinda fits into it #i think its ok to have a pretty much .. purely taste based opinion for once?#like most stuff i talked or ranted about usually had sth that id say is questionable in general #anyway

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weskin-time · 2 years

Note

May I request cuddles 👉👈🥺

you didn’t specify which character so i’m assuming you mean for Wesker but i’m also going to add Jill, Chris, and Sheva >:3 bc i am gay and love them

Albert Wesker

-he’s a fuckin stubborn shit head.

-asshole

-he’s so baby girl

-he’s a busy man so i feel like the most cuddles you’re going to get is by sitting in his lap at his desk while he does paper work

-sit on his lap chest to chest with your thighs straddling him your legs tucked underneath you

-be prepared for your legs to go numb and your hips to cramp cuz he probably won’t let you leave

-his hand he’s not using to write he’s got wrapped around the small of your back. just holding you close to him as he writes

-when he does have free time tho he loves to either lay on you or have you lay on him.

-if feel like he’s not a massive fan of spooning? idk

-google says he weighs about 198lbs so him laying on you is like. peak compression.

-please run your fingers through his hair please please please scratch his scalp he will start to purr

-if you lay on him he’ll also purr too

-don’t be scared to crush him the man can take an RPG explosion to the face he won’t be crushed by your weight i promise

-loves to just hold you close. feeling your body against his makes his heart stir.

Jill Valentine

-please hold her.

-hold her gently yet firm

-she loves to melt in your arms. just as soon as she gets home from work she wants a hug and a kiss

-she’s a tough woman but she’s been through a lot and she’s tired please play with her hair and massage her scalp

-rub her shoulders and her calves please

-the two of you trade off cooking most nights but on the nights you cook she’s got her arms around your waist and her chin on her shoulder if you’re short enough for that

-she seems to fully relax in your arms

-little spoon most nights but sometimes she wants to be a big spoon

-her favorite cuddling position is laying on your chest while you’re laying on your back. her arm wrapped around your waist with your arms around her

-please cuddle with her in a bath. draw her a hot bath with epson salt and a bath bomb.

-pamper her with soft kisses all over her face when she’s in your arms, she’ll melt and softly laugh

Chris Redfield

-i will not apologize for using this gif look at that spin flip damn

-HE GIVES THE BEST BIG BEAR HUGS EVER you can’t tell me otherwise

-big arms? big chest? big boobs? he’s perfect for cuddling.

-Teddy Bear

-he’s warm. if his big arms are wrapped around you y’all barely need a blanket cuz hes so warm

-his favorite way to cuddle is by the two of you facing each other and arms wrapped around one another

-loves to have your head in his chest

-he will also lay on you if you beg him too he’s actually scared of crushing you

-google says he weighs about 216lbs so he is kinda worried regardless of your size

-i bet he hugs you and picks you up and spins the two of y’all in a circle

-wanna spend time together while he’s working out? y’all might not be able to cuddle but he’s more than willing to bench press you or have you sit on his back while he does push ups

-on colder nights you bet this sap is sitting under a blanket with you in his lap watching a movie and drinking hot cocoa or another hot drink you like (or if you don’t like warm drinks he’ll just play with your hair)

-he has his moments where he just wants to be held by you too. please don’t deny him that, baby him all you want without pitying him and he’ll give you kisses

Sheva Alomar

-oh my gods marry me please i love you so much Sheva

-sorry

-I feel like Sheva would be a very tender woman

-she wants to hold you most of time time you cuddle

-and she’s very big on showing affection and cuddling with you

-her favorite cuddling position is sitting next to you on the couch, your legs draped over hers and your head on her shoulder, her arm around you pulling you close while you’re watching a show or movie

-she’s down for being any spoon, big or little, sometimes she just needs to be held and others she needs to hold you.

-expect her to kiss your forehead and cheek when she’s near you

-rub her back, please

-she loves it when you rub your hand up and down her spine and thighs

-not in a sexual way she just loves your skin on hers and it helps her relax into you

-sit on the counter and wipe her makeup off her face when she gets home and she’ll climb into bed with you

#tezi post #albert wesker #albert wesker x reader #wesker x reader #resident evil #wesker #resident evil x reader #resident evil imagine #albert wesker imagine #chris redfield imagine #chris redfield x reader #chris redfield #jill valentine imagine #jill valentine x reader #resident evil jill valentine #jill valentine #sheva alomar #sheva alomar x reader #resident evil headcanons

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bandaged-writer · 2 years

Text

𝗦𝗢𝗠𝗘𝗧𝗛𝗜𝗡𝗚 𝗠𝗢𝗥𝗘 || 𝗗𝗔𝗭𝗔𝗜 𝗢𝗦𝗔𝗠𝗨

pairing. dazai osamu x f! reader

genre. drabble, suggestive, friends to lovers-ish

warnings. groping, lots of touching, mentions of dazai's womanizing habits

words. 800

summary. these things feel better, because he understands you.

note. highly self-indulgent bc dazai brainrot goes brr. inspired by that one scene between makima and denji btw shsgdgd

"It's horrible! I just can't seem to woo any woman, anymore, [Name]!," Dazai whines with his back slouched over his desk. Paperwork is skillfully ignored by his non-existent work ethics, but at least the sunset dips his face in pretty orange hues and paints a handsome face that you can't help but look at.

You hum. "And how is that my concern, Dazai?," you question while your fingers cease dancing across the keyboard of the laptop and shut the device.

"You're my best friend!," the brunette reasons much like a child would and his words drown out the ghost of your chuckle. "And that's why it's your job to listen to my agonizing troubles!"

You don't recall any clause in your contract that tied you to said commitment to Dazai, but it's exactly that relationship that allows you to understand him on a level that goes deeper than the many masks he wears on a daily basis. Although you can't hope to beat Dazai at a game of chess, you know why his love life is as disappointing as it currently is.

He can refuse it all he wants, but there's no way you can't tell. Hazel eyes linger on your form for a beat too long, hands that are always on some part of your body even if they caused nothing but the usual mischief and the pang of jealousy shooting across his face whenever you'd give Ranpo or Tanizaki your dedicated attention. Dazai isn't as mysterious as he'd like to believe, but you also know that he would never confess his feelings.

At least, not yet.

You push your chair back, trut around the office desks until you stand in front of Dazai who watches you with feline eyes. He awaits your next move, anticipates the string of words that could only ever fall from your smart, but oh-so-sweet mouth.

No, he shouldn't think about how sweet your mouth would taste when you're his friend.

"I have once heard that these types of things feel better when you understand the person in front of you," you say with a charming smile upon your lips and reach for Dazai's wrist. Guiding his palm to your cheek, you nuzzle the warm skin and press a subtle kiss to the middle. He watches you with keen hazel eyes, but you don't miss the way his Adam's apple bobs in his throat.

"Tell me. Are my lips chapped or soft? What does my skin feel like? Are my fingers long or short? Does it tickle? Does your touch make me nervous?" All those questions you fling at Dazai's head remain unanswered, but you don't want any either. What you truly desire is for his focus to be dedicated solely to you and you can see it in his eyes that the gears in his head are spinning.

Dazai is awestruck by the way you wrap your lips around his thumb and bite down on it. Pain is as far away as the limits of the sky, yet he can feel them pressing into his skin and saliva dampening the calloused skin; calloused from holding guns, knives and all those burdens life brings along. The little gulp of your throat, the shimmer in your eyes. Everything that usually slips Dazai's attentive gaze now held his attention and he doesn't think he can ever forget the way he takes his thumb out of your mouth and wipes it across your bottom lip.

"It feels good, doesn't it?," you ask and stand in-between his legs.

Dazai nods his head. "It does."

Slowly, you tilt your head to the side with the same calm smile and bring his hand to your breast. Dazai squeezes the flesh underneath his sweaty palm and gulps down the confusing feelings in his throat. He's blinking more often, his heart pounds behind his sternum.

He can't understand what is happening to him. Countless women had found their way into his bed and underneath his sheets only to fade in the morning like the temporary bliss of obtaining something of materialistic value. Dazai is no stranger to his fingers in someone's mouth, his hands on their body, but he never once took the time to map them out. Whether the skin had scars, whether it was warm or cold, whether he genuinely enjoyed getting all touchy-feely like this.

"..You're going to be the death of me," Dazai rasps out and pulls his hand away from your boob.

You lean in, pop into his personal bubble and look at him with eyes that clearly, obviously yearn for him, but he is still so very distant. So very much out of your reach.

"Do you understand now? The reason why you feel so cold in a warm bed is because you don't understand them."

#bungou stray dogs #bungou stray dogs x reader #dazai osamu #dazai x reader #dazai osamu x reader

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gunnerfc · 11 days

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Alexis Loera NSFW Alphabet (18+, minors DNI!)

for my loera anons <3 who’s propaganda worked bc now im down bad 🧎

A: Aftercare

She’s so soft after sex, even if she was on the receiving side of things for most of the night

Alex will trace random shapes on your body as you both catch your breath after and whisper how good you were

B: Body Part (their favorite body part of themselves and their partner)

Alex’s favorite body part is her thighs, she loves wrapping them around your body or when you hold onto her thighs when you go down on her

Her favorite body part of yours is your hands, aside from the obvious reason, she just loves holding your hand or feeling them on her body at any time

C: Cum (anything to do with cum)

Loves pulling you into a deep kiss after going down on you or after you go down on her

D: Dirty Secret

Alex does enjoy when sex is a bit rougher than normal

E: Experience (Are they experienced? Do they know what they are doing?)

She is experienced but you both learned new things about what you enjoy in the bedroom since you started dating

F: Favorite Position

She doesn’t have a favorite position, it changes all the time because you both switch being on the giving/receiving end

G: Goofy (Are they more serious in the moment, or are they humorous?)

Alex will crack little jokes before or after but during sex, she’s much more serious and focused on your body

I: Intimacy (How intimate are they during the moment?)

Sex with Alex is very intimate all the time

J: Jack off (Masturbation HC)

She only gets herself off when you two are apart but she will send dirty texts after knowing you won’t be able to think about anything else

K: Kink (One or more of their kinks)

Praise kink, both giving and receiving praise turns her on

L: Location (Favorite place to have sex)

Your shared apartment for privacy!

M: Motivation (What turns them on?)

Whenever you place light kisses anywhere on her body, her head is spinning

N: No (Something they wouldn't do)

She’s not open to threesomes, she doesn’t want to share you with anyone

O: Oral (Preference on giving or receiving)

She likes both equally but she goes down on you more

P: Pace (Fast & Rough? Slow & Sensual?)

Mainly slow and sensual unless one of you is feeling a bit jealous

Q: Quickie (Thoughts on quickies)

They happen sometimes, mainly before training or leaving for a game

R: Risk (Are they open to experimenting)

Alex isn’t that into experimenting but she is willing to try anything you bring up

S: Stamina (How many rounds)

You two can go for a few longer rounds

T: Toys

You use a strap sometimes but you both prefer using your fingers/mouth to pleasure each other

U: Unfair (Do they like the tease)

She loves to tease you but it is quickly followed with lots of praise

V: Volume (How loud are they? What sounds do they make)

Alex can be quite loud, another reason you prefer to have sex at home

W: Wild Card (Random HC)

You two were roomed together during an away game and had to hold yourselves back from taking advantage of being roomed together but you failed after the game where you both scored and played really well, you had to keep each other quiet or else your teammates would have known

Y: Yearning (How high is their sex drive?)

It can be a bit on the higher side sometimes, especially if you’ve been apart for an extended period of time

Z: ZZZ (… how quickly they fall asleep afterward)

You both fall asleep pretty quickly afterward

#woso x reader #bay fc x reader #alexis loera #alex loera #alex loera x reader

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eds6ngel · 9 months

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okay I might send a few ideas for I kissed the teacher spin-offs bc I feel like I have a lot haha, but you don’t have to do any of them! so first idea: what if steve gets hurt accidentally and has to go to the hospital, so reader has to pick up alena, and they give her a hard time at pickup and then when they get to the hospital, they won’t let her in bc she’s not related or his wife. then after this happens, steve starts to think a lot more seriously about asking reader to marry him (but he’s definitely been thinking about it before) but just some good old angst and fluff pls! love your writing so much!

of course i'm doing this one!! i've loved your requests so far :)) and thank you so much for the compliment angel ♡

warnings: dad!steve. mom!reader. fem!reader. 90s!au. food mentions. steve breaks his ankle. judgement over having kids outside marriage. judgement over alena calling reader 'mom.' mentions of hospitals. pet names. kissing. mentions of marriage. fluff. comfort. teensy bit of angst. also, alena becomes protective over her mom!! [3.2k].

full 'when i kissed the teacher' masterlist.

You were currently enjoying your lunch break, catching up with the other staff as you chowed down into your poorly-made sandwich that you threw together at 7am that morning.

“I’m telling you Amelie, that kid makes me ache—” However, your conversation is interrupted by one of the front desk staff lightly tapping at the door, poking her head from around the corner.

“Sorry to disturb you guys, but Y/N, your boyfriend is on the phone asking for you.”

You gently place your sandwich down in its tin-foil wrapper, putting your hand over your mouth as you quickly chew the rest of the remaining food. “Of course lovely, give me two seconds. Amelie, just watch that for me a second?” you ask, pointing to the half-eaten chicken salad sandwich on the table, with a small nod from her.

“Great, thank you,” you say, following the front desk lady to her office, the phone currently on hold as she ventured down the hallways of Ernie Pyle to find you. She presses a button, turning off hold and passing the phone over to you. You press the speaker to your ear, calling out, “Steve?”

“Hey, honey. Yeah, you finish at three, right?”

“Yeah, same time everyday. Why, is everything okay?” you ask.

“Um… not really. Look don’t be mad at me…” Not a great start to a sentence. “But, I kind of broke my ankle, and I’m currently sat in a hospital bed at Hawkins General.”

You gasp, “Oh my God babe, how did you manage that?”

“Well, I was stocking some shelves, and I had to use a ladder. Some woman wasn’t looking where she was going and collided with the ladder. I lost my balance and fell onto the tiles. Fucking hurt like hell.”

“Jesus,” you hiss, imagining the scenario and somehow sensing the pain in your own body, almost as if a form of empathy. “How are you feeling, baby? Is it still painful now?”

“It’s better, but still hurts. It’s sort of more of a throbbing pain now. But, babe… I do have a request.”

“Of course honey, anything you need,” you reply, the worry starting to settle as a pit in your stomach.

“Could you pick up Alena for me? Robin’s at work later today, so she can’t collect her.”

“Yeah, sure! I’ll get Leanna to keep tabs on parental pick-up. I may be a little late, but I should get there before 3:30.”

“Thank you babe. Thanks so much.”

“Of course, baby,” you smile to yourself, “You want Alena and I to come visit you after I collect her? I’m sure she’ll want to see you as much as I do.”

“I would love that. I think opening hours are until six, so you guys should have time.”

“Mhmm,” you hum down the line, “Got it. Right babe, I would love to talk to you for longer, but I have to free up the line for other people.” You giggle, “So, I’ll see you later on? I would say around 3:45-ish?”

“3:45. Great. See you later, honey. I love you.”

“I love you too,” you softly say, “Hope you feel better soon.”

You drop the receiver, the front desk lady (also known as Sarah) looking at you with a raised eyebrow, intrigued into what was so important that your boyfriend had to disturb you during work hours.

You shake your head, rubbing your hands over your face and sighing, “Idiot broke his ankle. Needs me to pick his daughter up from school.”

She chuckles along with you, arms crossed over her chest, “Men, huh?”

“Yeah, men,” you shake your head once more, before heading back down the longing halls to the staff room, thanking Leanna as you collapse on the chair, chomping into your sandwich.

“So… what did Mr. Lovebird so desperately want?” she asks with a wiggle of her eyebrows, a smirk plastered across her face.

You let out a deep breath. You were going to be telling this story all day.

You arrived at Hawkins Elementary at 3:25, pressing the button on your car keys and entering the gates to the third grade classroom.

Many students were being sent out to their parents, you patiently waiting your turn, Alena smiling and waving to you from her seat inside, to which you reply with a wiggle of your fingers.

However, after a short while, all of the parents had seemed to have collected their children, both you and Alena sharing a confused glance through the clear glass window as she remained in her seat. You were standing right there, why wouldn’t her teacher send her out?

You could see her having a conversation with her teacher, the woman rolling her eyes as she opens the door, sharply asking you, “What do you want?”

You kept your cool, no matter how hard you felt like snapping back at her, “Hi, I’m here to pick up Alena.”

“You’re not on the list,” she simply states.

“Um… actually, I recently got added as an emergency contact for Alena, so I assumed it was okay for me to collect her.”

“I don’t care. I was not informed.”

You scorn, knowing that you were legally allowed to collect Alena. This specific teacher worked here when you did, the obvious tone being a pre-judged stereotype of your reputation.

“Why can’t I go with mom?” Alena asks sweetly, an undertone of sadness laced in her voice as her teacher blocks her from you.

You can see her roll her eyes as she turns back to Alena sneering, “She’s not your mom. She’s not even your step-mom. She’s merely a woman in your life.”

That made you snap. There was no way you would let her talk to your daughter like that. “How dare you! She can decide whether she calls me mom or not. You have no idea of our personal life and have no right to dictate that for her. Now, if you won’t let me collect my daughter, her dad is at Hawkins General because he’s broken his ankle. So, how about you call there and ask for permission from him.”

She shakes her head, scoffing, “Fine. Mr. Landbury, keep an eye on Alena for a minute, I’m going to call her father.”

The teaching assistant present was not a face you seemed to recognise, no sense of familiarity flooding your body. And by the lack of shrewdness, he too was confused by the situation at hand.

As the teacher powers out of the room, presumingly heading to the front desk, he tilts his head to the side, pointing to you, “Why can’t you collect her?”

You sigh, “You weren’t here when I worked here, were you?”

“No, I started this year.”

You lean your arm against the doorframe, “Basically, I had a thing for Alena’s dad whilst he was here, and I got fired because of it. So, now nobody here likes me.”

“Oh,” he breathes out, “But, she called you mom. Seems like it’s going perfectly well.”

You smile, “Yeah, two years this July.”

“Well, congratulations,” he replies, you quickly thanking him as her teacher returns, a sense of displeasure displayed on her features. “He said it’s fine. She can go with you.”

“Yes!” Alena cheers, jumping up from her seat and running over to you, hugging tightly onto your shirt. You could practically feel the teacher‘s resentment towards you in your own veins. Yet, you plastered a sarcastic smile on your face, burying your feelings of irritation, “Thank you.”

She simply grunts in return, waving her hand down as she turns away from the two of you. You wrap Alena’s smaller hand in yours, her skipping back to your car. As she climbs into the car seat you had placed in the front before you began your journey, you close your driver’s side door.

“What did you say happened to daddy?” she asks you.

You turn on the ignition, pulling out of the school parking lot and onto the main road, “He broke his ankle sweetpea. He was climbing a ladder at work and fell down.”

“Ow,” she hisses, almost sensing his pain, just like you had a few hours prior, “Can we go and see him at the hospital?”

“We are on the same train of thought baby, as that’s where I was about to head.”

“Yay!” she cheers, arms held up high above her head in celebration, “Will he have a cast?”

“I think he will bubs.”

She gasps, “Does that mean I get to draw on it? Because Tommy had a cast the other week as he broke his arm, and I got to draw pretty flowers on it. He wasn’t very happy about it though.”

“Well, that’s not very good, is it?” you reply, “I’m sure daddy will let you draw as many pretty flowers on it as you want.”

“I hope so too! As Tommy was really annoyed by it…”

And for the rest of your car trip to Hawkins General, Alena re-counted her entire story of drawing on her friend Tommy’s cast. She was at the perfect age where her mouth would start running and never stop. Not that you minded of course, it was very endearing. But, she sure could make a boring topic into a four-hour-long detailed presentation.

Hand in hand, you and Alena stroll to the front desk of the hospital, politely asking, “Hi. I’m looking for Steve Harrington. He came in here today with a broken ankle.”

“Name?”

“Y/N L/N, little nugget here is Alena Harrington.”

“So, you aren’t his wife?” she asks in a monotone voice, chewing loudly on her gum.

“Um… No, I’m not. But, I’m his girlfriend.”

The woman sighs, taking her glasses off the bridge of her nose and leaning back in her chair, “You can’t go in unless you are a relation. The kid can go in, someone can take her, but you can’t.”

You blink rapidly, “But, I just told you, I’m his girlfriend. Sure, we’re not married yet, but that’s my love you’re talking about.”

“I can’t let you in,” she states again, staring you in the eyes, “The kid goes and you stay, or you both stay. End of discussion.”

“No,” you put your foot down, “Not end of discussion. I shouldn’t have to be bound in by the law to see the love of my life. He’s hurt, he’s injured. I want to see how he is doing and whether he is okay.”

“Miss, if you continue raising your voice at me, I will get my colleagues to escort you out, do you understand?”

You sigh, realising there’s no way to get through to this woman. You would normally say she’s just following the required rules for her job, but from her attitude, it seems as if she was agreeing with the nonsensical attitude that love is only proved by two rings and a piece of paper.

However, the sound of a small foot hitting the floor and a huff shocks you to your core, “Let mommy see daddy!”

“Kid,” the woman leans over the desk, “Your mom, or mother-like figure I would call her, can’t go with you as her and your dad aren’t married. I can happily ask someone to take you up to see him, but she can’t go with you.”

You let your eyes naturally roll to the back of your head. People in Indiana were so judgemental. If Alena wants to call you mom, they should accept that. It’s your life, and you should be able to live by your rules, not bound by the critics of the outside world of strangers.

“Let her go!” Alena screams, the woman standing up and replying, “Right, I’m escorting you two out. You are causing too much noise for our patients around here.”

Growling out in frustration, refraining yourself from pulling your own hair out, you lift Alena up into your arms, “Come on baby, let’s go and sit in the car.”

You may have not been allowed in the building, but the parking lot was still an option. And you would stay there until six o’clock if it meant you got the chance to see Steve.

Steve’s sitting uncomfortably in his hospital bed, the bedsheets scratching at his back, his neck a little too low down for his liking, and the cast wrapped around his foot and lower leg itching away at his skin. He keeps checking the watch on his right wrist, practically counting down the minutes until you arrived. However, once the clock strikes 4:30, he starts to become worried, wondering where the two of you had gone. There was only an hour and a half left of visiting time, he was positive you wouldn’t deliberately miss it.

A nurse wanders past his bed, him squeaking out an “Excuse me,” alerting her from where she was scribbling away at her clipboard. “My girlfriend and daughter were meant to come to visit me around half an hour ago. Is there any chance I could use the phone to see where they are?”

“Oh, Mr. Harrington,” she rolls her eyes, knowing exactly which members of the public he was referring to, “Your girlfriend and daughter had to be escorted out of our building forty-five minutes ago for verbally harassing our front desk staff.”

“I’m sorry, what? Why?” He knew that wasn’t like you. Sure, you had more progressive opinions than most in the conservative town of Hawkins, but you’d never dare verbally harass someone.

“She was arguing in quite a rude manner about how she deserves to come up here purely for the fact she loves you, despite our rules clearly stating we only allow visitors on a relation-only policy. Also, on top of that, your daughter further escalated the situation by yelling at our front desk staff. We will not tolerate that kind of abuse in our building, Mr. Harrington.”

“Well, it is a bullshit policy,” he mumbles to himself, taking a sip of his well-brewed coffee a kind lady brought to him around ten minutes ago, a lot nicer than the current nurse he was dealing with. However, the nurse heard his remark, not that he was entirely bothered by it.

“Excuse me! What did you just say, Mr. Harrington?”

“I said: it’s a bullshit policy,” he firmly states, “She’s my girlfriend, I love her. I shouldn’t have to marry her for you to let her see me. Some people’s spouses in here probably don’t even love their husband or wife, at least my girlfriend actually cares enough to come and see me. I know for a fact Mrs. Black over there has a husband and he hasn’t been here all day.” He takes a breath, pinching the bridge of his nose as he relishes in everything he just blurted out. Maybe he was a little too harsh, and it seemed like the nurse completely agreed, a lot more so than him.

She sharply replies, “Mr. Harrington, you should be grateful we are even letting you recover here. I will not have you verbally attacking other patients for your own personal superiority. It’s not my fault you had a child out of wedlock.”

That was the final straw for him. He would not stand a stranger insulting his daughter. Not in a million years. He immediately lifts himself up off of the bed, grabbing the crutches that had been balanced by the side, and beginning to trudge out of his secluded space. “Mr. Harrington, you sit back down!”

He turns back, looking the nurse dead in the eyes, “If you’re going to insult my family like that, I don’t want your help at this hospital.”

And with that, he was hobbling his way to the elevator, pushing the button to take him to the first floor.

As Steve exited the building, followed by the constant yells of hospital staff, he turned to the left, about to head over to the nearest phone booth when the sound of the word, “Daddy!” caught his attention. He looks over into the distance, Alena hanging out of the passenger side window and waving to him. He can see you pull her back down into her seat, the car suddenly moving towards him. His girls were still waiting for him.

You quickly unbuckled your seatbelt, jumping out of the car and aiding to your boyfriend, “Oh my God, what are you doing out here? I thought you were supposed to stay overnight?”

Steve hisses as he lifts himself into the backseat, you grabbing his crutches so you can place them by Alena’s feet in the front. “Well, a lovely nurse decided to input her take on Alena apparently being born out of wedlock and also accused you two of verbally harassing people. I know what you are like, and you would never do that in a million years. So, I left.”

You laugh to yourself, shocked to the way that the staff exaggerated your actions, “They refused to let me up there because I wasn’t your wife. What bullsh— trash! What trash! I shouldn’t need that to care for you, our love should be enough.”

“Thank you!” he exclaims, “That’s what I said to the nurse!”

You pass the crutches forward to Alena, the metal rods looking massive compared to her small body, “Baby, can you just put them on the floor underneath you, please?”

“Yes, mommy,” she replies sweetly, dropping them down below her. “Mom, they don’t fit properly.”

You look over, the crutches too long to fit in the small gap between the door and the center console, “Just leave them balanced like that honey, it’ll be okay.”

“Okay!”

After Steve reaches over to protect himself with the seatbelt, you cup his face, changing your tone to a more serious nature, “How are you doing, my love?”

He sighs, “My back hurts, but they said there’s no injuries there, just strain. The cast is extremely itchy, I’m not gonna lie, but it’s okay.” He puts his left hand over your right, stroking the back of it, “I’m okay. I promise.”

You smile, whispering out, “Okay,” before pressing a soft kiss to his lips. You part from him, placing one more tender kiss to his forehead before shutting the back door, climbing into the driver’s seat.

Before turning on the ignition, you reach back, grabbing his hand and softly saying, “I love you.”

Alena then copies you, whipping her head back and cheesing, “Love you, daddy!”

He smiles, trying not to let tears slip from his eyes, grabbing hold of Alena’s hand and bringing yours and hers together, placing a soft kiss directly in the middle of both, “I love you too, my beautiful girls.”

And it was in that moment, he was sure. The thought had been lingering at the back of his mind for a while. You had moved in with them a couple months ago, fitting into their daily routine. Being there to have breakfast with them in the mornings, being there to cook dinner together, being there to wish Alena goodnight and fall asleep in his arms. It all felt so… natural. As if you belonged as a permanent addition to their household, to their lives.

It wasn’t a question of thought anymore. It was a need. He needed to buy a ring. He needed to plan a proposal. Because he no longer wanted you as his girlfriend anymore, he wanted you as his wife.

i hope you enjoyed!! thank you so much for the requests! you've been an absolute darling. i'm not sure what to write about for your older!alena request, so i may not be able to write something for that. but, if you have other ideas, keeping sending them in! (and that goes for all you beautiful humans! send in your lovely requests!!) ♡

taglist: @livsters @bakugouswh0r3 @nix-rose @ihatepeanutss @cats00089 @suitelif3 @clincallyonline17 @crowssixof @starkeylover @eris-rose-86 @frostandflamesfanfic

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girlfriendsofthegalaxy · 1 month

Text

tuesday again 4/9/2023

the best photo i took this week

listening

i have not been keeping up with either the tuesdaypost spreadsheet or the tuesdaypost playlists so there's a strong possibility i have already talked about Joywave's It's A Trip! off the 2017 album Content. spotify

youtube

driving ten hours in one day is ideal for listening to albums and i listened to almost every joywave album on my way home from the eclipse. american indie rock band from rochester ny, i have loved them since early college. i think they were made in a lab to get to stuck in my head bc they tend toward lower register synthier tracks that deceptively amble cheerfully along and talk about dealing with fear. songs for a male protagonist to splash water on his face, look at himself in the mirror haunted by what he's seeing, linger in his children's bedroom doorways, and then drive off into the night for the finale.

i think i listened to this song for an hour on loop yesterday bc the chorus so perfectly got stuck in my brain

When you've gotten what you want (Maybe I should start over) There's nothing left to want (Up and at 'em again) You don't know what you want (Yeah, I'm thinking it over) Just tell me what to Want

they have spent a lot of time figuring out how to have longevity as a band: "The record kind of attempts to figure that out but it doesn’t end in a definitive place. For me personally, it’s just to create things that matter as long as I possibly can, and to make things that are going to outlive me that people can hang onto for at least five to six years after I’m dead." they are deeply cranky about virality/content churn, especially in this interview. i appreciate this in an artist.

could not tell you how i first found them. i think i would have to go back to the proto-tuesdayposts of 2018.

reading

when you're not sleeping well you can average a book a night!

Uprooted by Naomi Novik destroyed me. (image from here)

“Our Dragon doesn’t eat the girls he takes, no matter what stories they tell outside our valley. We hear them sometimes, from travelers passing through. They talk as though we were doing human sacrifice, and he were a real dragon. Of course that’s not true: he may be a wizard and immortal, but he’s still a man, and our fathers would band together and kill him if he wanted to eat one of us every ten years. He protects us against the Wood, and we’re grateful, but not that grateful.”

my best friend real-life influenced me into reading this book and i have since managed to convince four other people to read this book bc i won't shut up about it. the descriptions of the physicality of magic and how different kinds of magic and different families of spells Feel was only part of the coolest magical system ive ever read about. this is not a dark romance but it is a little brutal in a brothers grimm/this is how battles shake out sometime kind of way. i think a companion piece of media written from the Dragon's point of view would nicely parallel that post going around about how Howl's Moving Castle the movie is from Howl's point of view and Howl's Moving Castle the book is from Sophie's point of view. i would die for Agnieszka.

Spinning Silver by Naomi Novik (image from here)

Miryem is the daughter and granddaughter of moneylenders… but her father isn’t a very good one. Free to lend and reluctant to collect, he has loaned out most of his wife’s dowry and left the family on the edge of poverty–until Miryem steps in. Hardening her heart against her fellow villagers’ pleas, she sets out to collect what is owed–and finds herself more than up to the task. When her grandfather loans her a pouch of silver pennies, she brings it back full of gold. But having the reputation of being able to change silver to gold can be more trouble than it’s worth–especially when her fate becomes tangled with the cold creatures that haunt the wood, and whose king has learned of her reputation and wants to exploit it for reasons Miryem cannot understand.

i don't know if i've ever read a book with seven points of view before? i think it was well handled, but it required significantly more brainpower than screaming through three of kingfisher's light fantasy/romances in two days and it threw me a little. saying this book is about debts cheapens it a little, i think. it is concerned with debts but also safety, and it is very much about cost in a very fairytale way and in the horrible everyday calculus of survival way.

Swordheart, Paladin's Hope, and Paladin's Strength by T. Kingfisher. god these go down So smooth. kingfisher has a niche and i respect that. i am reading the Saint of Steel tetralogy out of order bc even four library systems can only do so much, and i don't think you particularly need to read them in order.

i'm a bit cranky that the terfs took feminist fantasy from me, bc when the protagonist got her period in Paladin's Strength a little alarm bell went off in my head and i had to put it down and google some stuff (the answer is no btw). there is a way to write female-focused lightly historical fantasy without being terfy and kingfisher does it, but it's so rare that i was genuinely expecting some sort of. weird agenda to be at play.

these were all fun, fast reads and i don't have much else to say about them! not that they are better or worse than novik's books but they will not live in my head quite as long. there are fewer tantalizing hints about systems of magic that make me want to graph things out u kno

watching

kanopy has Animation April as their focus this month which is how i saw The King and the Mockingbird (1980, dir. Paul Grimault) which is a longer piece adapted from something he'd been working on since the 40s.

youtube

This animated fantasy tale follows the romance between a lovely shepherdess and a handsome chimney sweep. The land's imperious king falls for the beautiful woman and tries to thwart her relationship, but a kind mockingbird assists the lovers in evading the ruler. At the king's command, the chimney sweep and his bird friend are imprisoned, and they must escape in order to rescue the young man's true love.

GOD the animation in this. there are so many references to early animation and silent film. there are so so so many gadgets and methods of conveyance in an absolutely architecturally dizzying castle. there is a ROYAL MECH that plays its own theme music. the backgrounds have a very Chuck Jones quality in that they are exactly as detailed as they need to be for the gag to work. the castle is lush and beautiful but not dizzyingly, overwhelmingly lush. there is a clear vision to every shot and a clear path your eye is meant to travel, which i appreciate very much. i think a lot of technically impressive animation (i am specifically thinking of the Nimh movies) muddies itself by trying to jam too much on the screen. just a fucking delight of a film. a delicious confection

playing

nothing specific to say about genshin this week ur welcome

making

painted a frame (it was a dead basic michaels frame i got at a yard sale and it was giving little boy's room) and framed a thing. this is a poster that came as a freebie with a 1997 album, and i actually bought this CD case without the CD inside bc i was so delighted with the poster. scuff sanded the frame with 120 grit, i went with a matte black acrylic bc i felt that disguised how the poster did not quite fit the frame a little better? and also bc it was what i had in the house.

i did not bother with a mat, i just used the lining paper with the stock photo and painted the back of that. do not do this with particularly valuable or beloved pieces. i do not think this is necessarily acid free and there is some danger that the paint may transfer to the back of the poster over time.

#tuesday again #tuesday again no problem #Youtube

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