#OKY DISCUSS | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

mobiues · 2 years

Text

meta rant: deconstructing the angelic trope feat. the themes of the show.

i’m so, so tired of fandom mischaracterising mobius and, in return, his connection to loki. the whole “MoBiUs MaDe LoKi BeTtEr” and “lOkI iS gOoD bEcAuSe MoBiUs BeLiEvEd In ThEm / mObIuS iS GoOd, AnD tHeReFoRe iNfLuEnCeS tHeM” is so distasteful. the whole point of mobius’ speech — you can be whatever you want to be, even someone good — is literally about the freedom to simply be. that’s it. that’s the whole theme of the show, even if it was badly misinterpreted a few times along the way.

the whole of loki’s arc, even in agent of asgards, was loki’s struggle to fight against their notorious pre-destined label but also realising they could never quite fit in with the hero archetype as well. it’s that constant struggle that the show is trying very hard to try and adapt along with the multiverse chaos. does it work? that’s a conversation for another time, but fact remains: loki is literally quite one of marvel and mcu’s most complex character because of this.

and having someone, STILL IN YEAR 2022, oversimplifying the theme of loki’s character genuinely hurts. and even more so, when that relates back to mobius, whom somehow is always “angelified” next to loki, it’s truly just a double whammy. mobius doesn’t want loki to be a hero. he just said it in conjunction that loki could be good if loki wanted to — because again, that’s the whole theme of the show: it’s the freedom to exist beyond what other people kept boxing you in as. it’s mobius genuinely wanting loki to have a presence beyond what was detected in the timeline, which generally categorised loki as a villain.

and mobius isn’t an angel, and i’m so tired of people thinking that he is! he’s not. yes, he can be kind and affectionate and he is inherently romantic to the people he’s attached to ( ravonna, loki etc ) but it is even canon in the show that he can and has done bad things ( “mobius isn’t so bad” “he isn’t so good either” / are we even gonna acknowledge what he did in episode 1? cause that was brutal ) he’s an incredibly flawed guy, and that’s why mobius and loki work as a dynamic. why it’s so popular.

neither of them expects the other to be anything except themselves. mobius holds no false illusion on what loki could be — either a villain or a hero — but simply has faith that loki can strive to achieve far beyond his usual ‘glorious purpose’. that’s all. he accepts loki as loki is, and if that means loki is as mischievous as they're considerate, or as conniving as they're intelligent, then so be it.

it’s not about mobius fixing loki (and it’s interesting that ravonna even mentions, “i know you have a soft spot for broken things” when that, in and of itself, is an oversimplification of mobius’ fascination to loki, which almost uniquely reflects how ravonna and mobius may have had a rift of different point of view since the start — but i’ll get into ravonna and mobius, my beloved, on another day) and i wish fandom would stop categorising it as that. thanks.

please don’t reblog.

#one of my recent pet peeves that i discovered is when people have lack media literacy #because it's like people forget that each person they've met are inherently flawed in one way or another #and they're allowed to be #the world doesn't just revolve around ''good guy'' and ''bad guy''#like... thats it.#l/oki doesn't have to be a hero and JUST a hero #he also doesnt have to be JUST a villain #thats why his point of view could've / should've been interesting #and m.obius doesn't HAVE to be this goody two shoe person that stands as l.oki's antithesis to be relevant #as the 2nd half of a dynamic #the WHOLE POINT OF THEM is that they don't demand the other to meet a certain expectation #m/obius and l/oki has allowed the other to simply BE #thats what makes them work #ok i'm done ranting now amsdsjdhsdfjsd #what fruits did u guys have today :)#gen: discussion.

2 notes · View notes

sweetoxic-cas · 2 years

Text

yayyy im donee oki goodnight

#i read some of the other replies to the discussion board and they’re so much more personal than mine (obviously)#idk what i want for my future at allll and i dont like thinking about it so it makes sense ig #this is the one time where i struggle doing an assignment for psychology lol #oki actually goodnight now 👋

2 notes · View notes

29121996 · 1 month

Text

#everythings fine my brain is crashing again #as expected i didna lot over thr weekend #However . not fun at all #i have therapy in 2 days n i have nothing of real interesf to tdll her.#bc for oncr i docnot wanna talk abt fhat and * . like i cant. its the same stuff.#anyway . i think i mighy . see if im hiding anything abt ** tho .#bx theres no fucking way this didnt cut me someway . id be insane? like ???? hsllo??????#idk im so numb to it i think. like idk what i feel. n thats Odd lmao.#entropy is truly an album. every skng is a masterpiece fr .#teeterinf down the day6 rabit hole again n #oh i feel embarrassed abt this suddenly.#why . why.#not abt day6 . smth emse . oh my god #i dont like that lol #maybe i do have smth tocdiscuss in theraoy. all of This. what the fuck.#oh oki. i will . have to discuss this indepth bc um . what the fuck.

0 notes

hegrowth · 8 months

Text

thinking about giving kaey some vampire-esque abilities in his shadow universe 🤔 like the ability to drain life / essence (light?) from something, or taint something with shadow by biting it. idk. something to consider. also considering expanding upon the cost of using shadow self and his healing abilities. some sort of decay or "lack of light". really putting an emphasis on the balance between light and shadow, and his control of both. idk. I'll keep mulling.

#《 ° selkie.exe 》 oh im trash just not approved trash #° mobile post !#° to be deleted !#° meta discussion !#okie enough shit posting im away

0 notes

mickyschumacher · 7 months

Note

NGL I LOVE UR WORK... ive been hopping thru ur m.list since the last hour.... its currently 1 am and i have an essay to finish before 8 am(im sure my prof will give me more time ik dey love me) anywasy i was wondering if u could do an enemies to lovers with Lewis((like really hated eachother)the reader could be a driver its oky don mind what she does) and then they were arguing abt sumting lewis says something thats completely out of the line and she starts crying in front him then he just kinda leaves her be, a few days later he would go on then apologize to her abt wat he said and then more fluff. (just ignore this if ur not into it or not takin a request at the moment. but im actually just hapi i kind of got the courage to ask u for a request also ur stories are soooo good i admire and envy u at the same time.)

𝐑𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓 𝐖𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐄 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐋𝐄𝐅𝐓 𝐌𝐄 .ೃ࿐

𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘: as lewis's former teammate, there are lines that shouldn't be crossed. but a bad move from lewis puts him completely out of line.

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒: enemies to lovers trope!, poor humour, some fluff, in depth moment of an alternated 2021 wdc (apologies in advance), therefore ANGST, bad race jargon, horner and masi discussed :(, mention of intermittent explosive disorder, misogyny, allusion to racism (not from the reader ofc!), shitting on the fia for a bit, lewis kinda being a dick for probably an unfair reason lol, a proclamation of feelings from sir lewis himself

𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆: lewis hamilton x red bull!driver!fem!reader

𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓: 3k+

𝐀/𝐍: you're too sweet to me! 🤧 i couldn't tell if you wanted this to be romantic but i went that way in the end! hope this was good! ♡︎ very very loosely based of swift's 'right where you left me'. but if you argued it wasn't, i would be inclined to agree. proof-read...ish?

𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓

⋆ •°. 。 .°• ⋆

No one ever truly understood your move to Red Bull. It was in 2019, far from when Max was practically living on pole, so Red Bull wasn't exactly a threat to Mercedes, your previous team. Toto had even put a three-year extension on the table several months before your contract came close to expiring.

Yet you had chosen to sign with the devil.

When the commentators, journalists, and fans took a closer look at your decision, the only thing they could all collectively agree on was that you had moved to Red Bull because of Lewis Hamilton. Because you both couldn't keep your differences aside and Lewis had finally struck your last nerve.

While you weren't quite sure about the last part, the first was true. You had Lewis had never ever exactly met eye-to-eye. Every F1 driver had a specific style of driving. You liked to call Lewis' the 'calm before the storm'. He raced with a composure and maturity that most drivers did not hold. He was particularly calculative and the everyone loved him.

You, on the other hand, had given yourself a new nickname along side 'Flash 13' because you did everything in a flash: you overtook ruthlessly and calculated, you pushed the car till it was undrivable, and you were decisive to the very nanosecond. But you had also garnered yourself the name 'IED', after the behavioural disorder.

In part this nickname was due to the misogyny you faced as the only current female driver in F1 but also due to the sheer anger that bursted out of you whenever you encountered Lewis.

The amount of warnings Toto had given the both of you was simply endless. He had even resorted to putting you two with the team therapist.

The source of your hatred for each other was as clear as day. You hated Lewis' arrogance because somehow it was even worse than Rosberg, Alonso, Räikkönen, and Verstappen. And Lewis hated you for your 'perspective'. You didn't know what he initially meant by that but you regretted asking him. He said you needed to be stronger to be in F1 and that you were far too soft-hearted. Right after you had gotten your first ever pole.

It was ridiculous, to say the least.

No F1 driver was soft-hearted. You were all, simply put, a bunch of dicks. Not literally, of course. Naturally, following that comment, Lewis had pissed you off. He hadn't even had a second to know you before even making that judgement. It was ironic as well, considering your nickname that labelled your anger.

After watching Lewis win several championship titles with you following multiple places behind and seeing you only get angrier with each other, you had decided to call it quits for Mercedes. If people were going to take your annoyance and frustrations with amusement, you were going to head to the angriest team of all and leave your former team fuming.

Two years later, in 2021, you had finally gotten the perfect opportunity.

You hadn't really a clue how exactly Red Bull had made the 2021 car so well that you were matching the speed of Mercedes' car but you didn't care. You were matching Lewis. And Christian Horner was a happy man. A sexist prick but a happy man nonetheless.

Pole was either Lewis' or yours. Either he was a Grand Prix winner or you were. It was a game of cat and mouse, always in a constant pursuit of each other. The same went from your team leaders, Toto and Christian, who practically had the race director, Masi, on speed dial.

And by Abu Dhabi, you were equally tied, locked at 369.5 points. It hadn't been easy after getting penalised for multiple incidents against Lewis, but you were here. Lewis was trying to get his eighth championship and you your first.

You weren't sure how this was going to end. Heck, no one could've predicted what happened that day. But all you knew was that you were not going down without a fight.

You secured pole in Abu Dhabi which had put the entirety of Mercedes and F1 on edge. After a discussion with your engineer and several strategists, you had opted for soft tyres to further your advantage over Lewis.

Despite all of that, it was Lewis who had led the first corner after those red lights had gone out. It was only by turn six did you even get a lead. But it was a moment too short as your former teammate regained his top position by going off into the damn run-off area of the track.

You didn't need to scream in annoyance. You couldn't hear Horner, but deep down you knew he had already called up Masi, demanding an investigation. Your engineer reported to you that the stewards had dismissed it. The gap between you and Lewis was getting bigger, the race was coming to and end, and you knew you needed a miracle towards the end of the race if you wanted to win.

And that miracle was called Nicholas Latifi. The poor guy had crashed into Mick and the safety car was out on the tracks. Thankfully, they were both okay, but the timing of it was simply impeccable.

You had pitted to get new soft tyres and Mercedes was on the fence about heading to the pit lane in fear of the race restarting. So Lewis didn't pit. Miracle 2.

You re-joined the track with five lapped cars in between you and Lewis. And soon enough, Race Control had given the dooming message: lapped cars were not allowed to overtake.

The taste in your mouth was bitter. You had cussed out Horner, asking why you were even seeing these lapped cars in front of you.

Then came Race Control again: only the five cars in between you and Lewis were allowed to overtake. Miracle 3.

But of course, F1 had a flair for the dramatics. Because you were fucking restarting. Putting you and Lewis on a tight show-down for the final lap.

The bad news? Lewis hadn't pitted yet.

The good news? You could overtake Lewis. Miracle 4.

And the headline? You won.

You fucking won.

You were F1's first female champion in history.

You made history... or, well, herstory?

Yes it was controversial. Yes it was dramatic. Yes, questionable decisions had been made.

But you won.

By the time you had gotten out of your car and finished with screaming and crying in pure happiness, you had finally caught a glimpse of Lewis.

A small part of you felt bad. You knew for a fact, that these decisions weren't 'human error' as the FIA would go on to claim the following year in Bahrain.

It was entertainment. It was business. It was money.

You had both worked so hard this year. But the fight between an F1 driver breaking the record for the most championship titles and the first possible female champion in F1 was too good to resist.

Things between you and Lewis after Abu Dhabi hadn't gotten worse. You just talked far less than you normally did. You barely argued with each other anymore. It was disconcerting to say the least. Especially now that you were struggling to match Max's pace, always coming second or third as per the instructions of your engineer. For a moment you thought, what was the point of winning if you weren't going to win again?

━━━━━━━━━━━

You were still determined. Beating your own teammate would be hard. But you weren't a stranger to the idea. You had spent years trying to beat Lewis while purposely being the support for him to win. They were two actions they didn't go together but it had happened.

That being said, the venture was proving to be more difficult than you anticipated. In fact, it had caused a full collision with Lewis in the first lap of the Qatar Grand Prix.

You were so focused on beating Max you hadn't taken a second to look around you.

"What the fuck was that?" Lewis' voice invaded the air as he barged into your driver's room, ridden with sweat and still in his racing gear.

"Look, I'm sorry okay. I didn't see you. It was my fault. End of story," You told him curtly, not really wanting talk to Lewis any further.

"Damn right, you didn't see me. You could've taken me or anyone out! Are you so fucking stuck up your ass that you couldn't see me?" Lewis asked incredulously.

You scoffed at his accusation. It was true. But you didn't like when the truth fell from his lips... especially not when they sounded like that.

"Lewis, drop it. No one got hurt. Let's just move on okay?" You queried, annoyance dripping from your voice.

"Why? Can't handle the truth, L/N?" He laughed gently, almost mocking you. "Right... you were always like that."

You snapped your head towards him, raising a sharp brow. "Excuse me?" You spat as if to say he was becoming dangerously close to crossing a line he did not want to cross.

Lewis folded his arms, shrugging nonchalantly. "What? You don't like the truth. It's simple. I told you that you need to be stronger because you're too soft-hearted. And you hated that. And now that I'm telling you that you're selfish, you obviously can't handle it."

"Oh my God, you are one to talk. Lewis, you are so blinded by your arrogance that you can't see anyone else win. That's why you can't accept that I won right?"

"Not Abu Dhabi, aga–"

"Yes, Lewis, Abu Dhabi again. You are so fucking sour about losing that even when the hate targeted me, you let it. You let them say that my win was due to race and gender. Me, Lewis, out of all people, me."

No matter your differences, you had stuck up for Lewis on many accounts when it came to the FIA, 'fans', and haters. But he wasn't there for you.

You could see dark expression fall onto Lewis' face. "That's not true, Y/N."

"Then what was it Lewis?" You flailed your hands in exasperation. "Because you sure as hell didn't come to my aid."

"Because you didn't deserve it!"

You blinked blankly, arms falling to your side. Your mind took a minute to process the words that had fallen from his lips in mere seconds.

Lewis' face dropped as realisation struck him. What the fuck did he just say? "Y/N, I–"

"Get out," You grumbled.

Lewis did a double-take on the fresh line of tears accumulating on your waterline. He took a step closer to you, hands reaching out. "No, no, no, Y/N, I–" But your words made him stop.

"Lewis, get the fuck out of here before I start screaming like the bitch everyone thinks I am."

You watched Lewis return his hands to the side, clenching his jaw tightly as he made way to the door of your room. He stopped briefly, hesitating to open the door, taking one last glance at you before leaving.

━━━━━━━━━━━

Four days.

You had pondered in deep thought for four days. And after 72 hours, one thing had become obvious to you.

Lewis wasn't with you or any of the other drivers. He was still in 2021, right where you had left him. Not a second had gone by for Lewis where he hadn't thought about Abu Dhabi.

What if he had just pushed for Bono and Toto to get him in that pit lane?

What if he had veered the car a little to the side and you didn't overtake him?

Lewis was still reliving the worst moment of his career and his life and everyone had moved on. Sure, every fan and commentator talked about it time to time. But it was something of the past.

To say you didn't deserve your championship title... you had heard it from several 'fans' and insignificant others. But to hear it from Lewis? It fucking killed you.

You cared about his opinion more than anyone in the world. And he knew that.

You would've never said anything as shitty as that to him or anyone for that matter.

You had worked your ass off to get to F1. Fuck, you had won F2 two fucking times because no one was willing to let a girl on their team... into a man's sport. Every driver worked hard to a certain degree. But you were a girl who didn't grow up with the means of driving yourself to your death every day. If everyone worked hard, you had worked ten times harder.

Everyone knew that you and Lewis had fought. And by the looks of it, they also knew it was far worse than your normal fights. You wouldn't look at him, you refused to speak to him, you spent minimal time in the same room, you had even paid your media fines in full to avoid everyone...

Max had even become some sort of bodyguard, telling Lewis to turn back around when he neared the Red Bull garage.

All of this protection, and yet, he had still found you in your favourite place. The one you both came to when you needed to become level-headed. The top stand of any empty Grand Prix, in this case the México Grand Prix, where the air felt a little bit cooler against your heated skin and you could think for even it was for just a second.

You sucked in a sharp breath, seeing Lewis in your periphery while you were firmly seated. He looked nervous, chewing on his bottom lip and taking cautious glances at you.

"Hey," Lewis greeted, making you raise a brow at his lame entrance.

You forced yourself to look at the rest of the empty seats in front of you. "Hey," You mumbled back, trying to swallow the bitter taste in your mouth.

An unsettling silence enveloped the both of you. You were sure Lewis was here to apologise. But you could also tell he just couldn't bring himself to do it. Not in a selfish way. But in the most guiltiest way possible.

You sighed. "How are you?" You asked gently, peeking out of the corner of your eye.

Lewis winced at your question. Leave it up to you to still be this kind after what he had said to you. "Sorry. I'm so so sorry," He rasped, voice raw with the pain that had been gnawing away at him ever since those god forbidden words had left his mouth.

You nodded slowly, taking another deep breath. "I know you're going to call me soft-hearted but what you said really fucking hurt, Lew," You jested with a brief smile.

Lewis grimaced at your poor humour, before his ears perked up at the old nickname you had given him when you first started getting on each other's nerves. "I know. I'm an idiot for saying something like that. Or that you're soft-hearted. You've worked so hard for all of this. You absolutely deserve everything and that win was only the first of many, I'm a hundred percent sure of it. Your Dutch shortie doesn't really know what's coming."

You gave him a tight-lipped smile after huffing in amusement at his diss towards Max. "Thank you," you told him earnestly. "Although, I am quite positive he is like almost ten centimetres taller than you. But, thanks anyways."

Lewis rolled his eyes. "Have you seen me? You don't think I give off tall energy?"

"You mean tall in insults?" You joked, grinning at the blank look on Lewis' face.

Lewis sighed. "I really am sorry. I didn't mean any of it. And by 'it', I mean all of the insults and fights. I was just disappointed in myself. Even more so that I didn't stand up for you. I'm so sorry."

You drew your eyebrows together, turning your body to face him. Confusion filled you. "Then why did you say it at all?"

"I–" Lewis blew out a small laugh. "Are you sure you want to know?"

"Lewis, can you not see me dying here? Like a whole kitchen set of knives in my back?" You deadpanned.

Lewis rolled his eyes again. So dramatic.

He brought his hands together, staring at you briefly before looking at the empty stand. "Well, obviously, I heard of you before you joined Mercedes. I thought it was ridiculous that you had to get two F2 championships to get a seat, but anyways, I digress. Toto told me, he was considering you even though you had never been in the junior team.

And I remember just being so fucking jealous of you. Toto was consumed by you. He and Horner had been fighting for your seat for so long and now that they finally had an open seat, it was chaos. Toto won, obviously. And then we met each other in person for the first time and I thought you were the most beautiful woman in the world."

You felt your heart begin to race and your skin heat at the sudden proclamation. "You... you what?"

Lewis smoothly glossed over the compliment. "And then we had our first quali together and you beat me. You got pole on your first race. So you were talented and beautiful. A crime, might I add.

And so when you came to tell me, you were so excited with all your talent and beauty, I was pissed. Because out of all things in the world, I had gotten an amazing competitor I was bound to feel for. I thought that by saying you were soft-hearted and all, it would get on your bad side and it would make me less attracted to you. It didn't. It got worse while it got easier to pretend to hate you."

You blinked blankly at him, cheeks aflame. Lewis Hamilton liked you. Your stupid teammate? The same one who's eighth championship you arguably took? "I'm sorry... hold up, we've been fighting for years because I'm a hot, talented, gifted, smart driver and you're a simp?"

Lewis squinted his brown eyes at you. "I did not include all those adjectives."

"I mean... that's basically what you said," You shrugged, flickering your eyes to the setting sun.

Where did all the damn cool air go? You wondered, pressing your hands to your flushed cheeks and feeling your soft palm absorb the molten lava known as your skin.

Lewis chuckled, picking up your flustered reaction quickly. He watched as you suddenly stood up. "Okay, well I'm... I'm going to meet Hugh and find a way to beat Max. See ya!"

Lewis paused, grabbing your wrist. "Wait? What? You aren't going comment about what I just said?"

You eyed his hold on your wrist: it was searing you. You turned to him, lowering your head to meet his gaze. You briefly looked down at his lips before looking back up. "I think I prefer hating you."

Lewis felt you press your lips on his cheek before walking past him. He watched your retreating figure, your kiss feeling heavy on his face, putting him right where you had left him: absolutely and utterly smitten.

#mickyschumacher #f1 x reader #f1 x you #f1 fanfic #f1 imagine #formula 1 #lewis hamilton #lewis hamilton x reader #lewis hamilton x you #lewis hamilton imagine #lewis hamilton fanfic

558 notes · View notes

luveline · 9 months

Note

hey jade!! i love kisses before dinner and was wondering (if you like the idea) maybe you could write something about avery realising how scary giving birth can be and starts worry about it before the new baby arrives? <3<3<3

thank you for your request! kisses before dinner —mom!you and dad!steve comfort avery when she has concerns for your health. fem!reader, 3k

cw discussed maternal mortality and death

Steve Harrington looks out over the kitchen table that night with a great sense of success. You're sitting at the other end with Dove on your knee, feeding her bites of macaroni cheese between feigned spoonfuls given to her rainbow teddy bear. Bethie sits to his left eating without complaint (a victory considering her pickiness). Avery sits to his right, trying to pour her own glass from the juice jug. It's awesome.

Steve quickly swallows the drink he'd been sipping on and offers to help her, hand extended, "Here. I got it."

"I can do it," Avery insists, her long arms shaking under the weight.

He doesn't mind her being independent, nor her improving capabilities, but the last thing he wants to do tonight is clean up a huge juice spill. Steve takes the juice gently and refills her plastic cup.

"Dad," she whines.

"Avery," he whines back.

She huffs and grabs her fork, ignoring her fresh cup of juice to shovel in bites of broccoli and macaroni instead.

"I think I'm done," Bethie says. Steve must have jinxed it.

He attempts to do the impossible —convince Bethie to finish dinner. He takes up station by the side of her chair, having tried everything now, and only this works.

"Beth," he says, putting his hand behind her back, "Are you sure there's no room left? I don't want you to be hungry again before we go to bed 'cos you won't tell me, will you?"

"I'm full," she insists, reaching for her drink bottle.

"Is there something wrong with it?" he asks, rubbing up and down her back.

"No, daddy, it's nice," she says. She isn't quite convincing, but she tries.

Steve looks at her. She looks like Steve sometimes, like neither of you other times, but mostly he looks at her and he sees you. Your smile, your frown, Bethie's tell is the same as yours when she lies. Steve can read you both like a book.

"Is it cold?" he asks, sticking his pinky finger in the corner of her macaroni. "A little. If I heat it back up for you, would that make it better?"

"No, please," she says.

He sighs. "Make you something else? Sandwiches?"

"I'm not hungry, daddy."

Steve plasters a smile over his worries and kisses her cheek. "Okie smokie. Well done, honey, you ate lots and lots. Let's try even more for breakfast, yeah?"

"Yes!" she agrees, sliding off of her chair.

"Where are you going?" he asks.

"Need to pee!" she yells, running to the stairs. She opens the baby gate (which she’s known how to do for too many years, way before supposed to know how to —thanks so much, Avery) and Steve listens to her sprint up the stairs with a wince.

"Call me if you need help!" he yells after her.

"Okay!"

"You think that's why she didn't want to eat?" you ask, wiping the corners of Dove's mouth with her bib.

Steve stands up and stretches his arms behind his head. "I don't know," he says, rolling his neck around in a circle.

"Is it gross if I eat her leftovers?" you ask.

"I'll make you another pot, if you want it," Steve offers, arms dropping down to his side. He's been trying to get back into shape lately. It's not working out. "You having cravings?"

"I'm just hungry all the time," you say, your voice melding into a sing song as you finish wiping Dove's face. "All done! Good girl, Dovey! You're my good girl." You plaster her forehead with a layer of kisses before putting her down on the floor. She wobbles, hands on your thighs. "Okay? You want another drink?"

"Dotty Dolly," she says, taking your hand. "Please. Please, Dolly."

"Yeah, my love. I'm coming." You groan as you stand up, not quite pregnant enough to worry about popping soon but more than enough to feel exhaustion to the marrow.

"Just me and you then," Steve says to Avery, tucking in chairs and piling plates at the table.

"Me and you, sir," she agrees in a funny voice.

"Still mad at me?"

She remembers to glare at him. "Yes!" She takes another bite of macaroni. "Okay, no."

"If you're not gonna chew with your mouth closed, put your hand over your mouth. I don't wanna see your chewed up dinner." Avery pokes her tongue out, laughing when Steve says, "Ewww."

He sets the leftovers aside for you rather than waste Bethie's largely untouched pasta in the trash, stacking the dishes in the sink and wetting a cloth to wipe down the table. He cleans around Avery, squeezing her neck, shoulders and arms to make her squirm as he goes.

"You want seconds?" he asks, returning to the sink.

"I want dessert."

"Good idea. You know Mom's so pregnant all she does lately is wake me up for ice cream."

"She wakes you up?" Avery asks.

"By accident trying to put her socks on at the end of the bed. Baby's getting too big now, she can't see her toes."

"It's a good thing she has you, dad."

"Yeah, but you'd help mommy, wouldn't you? Help her put her shoes on if she couldn't reach?"

Avery hops off of her chair and passes him her plate, completely clean of food. She grows like a bamboo shoot and eats like a rabid dog. He loves it. She's evidence that he's a good cook.

"Thank you. What did you want for dessert?" he asks.

"I have something to ask you."

"Oh." Steve hates the sound of that, theorising that she wants a new something or other he'll have to say no to. He grabs her by the waist, wet hands and all, hoisting her up onto the counter by the dish rack. He puts a rag in her hands. "You dry and I'll answer."

"It's a weird question," Avery warns.

"Avery, you wouldn't believe how weird some of the questions I've asked are. Don't worry about it."

He scrunches dirty water out of the dish sponge and squirts soap onto a dirty plate. The hot water burns his fingertips. Avery dries a plastic plate diligently, her question coming out slow as running wax.

"Mom's gonna be okay, right?" she asks quietly.

Steve fights to keep his eyebrows down. They bob anyways. "Okay from what?"

"When she has the baby. She's not going to get hurt?"

"Well, having a baby really hurts. But there's medicine for her to take, and I'll be there to hold her hand."

"No," Avery says, frowning, "that's not…"

"Sorry, Ave. Ask me again, try a different word."

She puts the dried plate down to her left and picks another to dry. "Will mom die?"

"No," he says. Doesn't miss a beat, though his pulse capers. He knows that childbirth is hard, that lots of things can go wrong, but if he truly thought you might die he wouldn't have asked for another baby. And even if he did think it were going to happen, it's not a thought Avery needs to have. "She won't die, I promise you. Where'd you get that idea, honey?"

"Jordan's mom died having a baby."

Steve nods and tries to recalibrate the conversation. He knew of Jordan's mom passing away, he made a couple of trays of food for Jordan's dad and put money in the collection plate for her memorial, but he didn't know Avery knew precisely how it happened.

"Right, she did," he says gently. "And that's scary, huh?"

"Why can't it happen to mommy if it happened to her?" Avery asks.

Steve shuts off the water. Hand still wet, he rubs his forehead roughly. "Can I have that?" he asks Avery, gesturing for the dish cloth. She gives it to him, putting down her last plate, and Steve wipes his fingers dry to pick her up without getting her wet a second time.

"Let's have a talk," he says, tilting his head to the side. He sees his eyes looking back at him, smaller and softer, longer lashes but the same honeyed brown. "Me, you, and mommy. Okay?"

"Dad," she says, startled.

"It's okay, It'll be better if you talk to mom, too, because it's mom that's already had babies, not me. I think I know everything because my brain is so big and stuff, but I can't tell you what your mom is thinking."

"I don't want mommy to get upset," she says.

It's partially his fault for asking her to tell him if there's a problem rather than you a few weeks ago. He didn't want you walking up and down the stairs unnecessarily, and your blood pressure is something they've been keeping an eye on. He didn't mean for Avery to bottle things up. Every time Steve thinks he's doing something right it finds a way to bite him in the ass.

"I meant if Bethie's turned the faucet on and flooded the bathroom, or if you want to change your bed or something, not that you can't ask her things that are worrying you," he says, readjusting her weight. Her knees dig into his sides as he carries her to the living room doorway from the kitchen.

"Hey, mom?" he asks.

Your head jumps up. You're sitting on the edge of the couch with Dove's face in your knee, a dribble patch dampening your pants. Bethie has her hand in yours sitting next to you. You're still in your work clothes, your bump straining against everything now, but yet to drop. He'll have to wash your pants tonight.

"Hey?" you say, a guilty smile tugging up your pretty mouth. "I'm coming to do the dishes, I swear. My girls caught me in their net."

"Can we talk to you? For a minute," Steve says.

Your eyes widen. You stand up with a funny noise like someone's stepped on your toes, lifting Dove by the armpits to sit next to Bethie. You kiss the girls goodbye and they're too distracted by Dotty Dolly playing on the TV to mind.

"What's wrong?" you ask, following Steve back into the kitchen.

"Want me to explain?" Steve asks Avery. She nods. "Avery's a little worried about you."

"About me?" You put your hands under your face and beam at her. "What's worrying you? I've never been better."

"She's worried about when you have the baby."

"'Cos of Jordan's mom," Avery whispers.

You hear it despite her small voice, your smile sobering. "I see… I see. You know… you're a big girl, Avery. You're my big girl, and I wish I could keep you this young forever sometimes, but I know that you know that people don't get to stay with us forever, so I don't want to scare you, but I'll tell you what I think, yeah?"

Avery swallows around nothing.

Steve gives her back a sympathetic pat. "It's okay," he says to her, enthusing his voice with some pep to calm her down.

"Jordan's mommy was sick when she passed away," you say, your hand resting on your bump now, inching closer to Steve and Avery where they've paused under the kitchen light. "She knew things were going to be hard. When you have a baby, you know things won't be easy, but it's not fair. It's very sad. She," —you look at Steve with a parent familiar fear that says, Am I saying the right things?— "said goodbye before anyone wanted her too, but Avery." Steve knows what you're going to say. It's a promise he made only minutes ago, one that you have no control over keeping, but a necessary one nonetheless to make. You could very well have complications down the line, things could spin out of control, but Avery doesn't need the stress of that hanging over her. "I promise you here and now that I'm not going anywhere. Daddy won't let me."

He laughs a little breathlessly. "Damn straight."

"But daddy isn't a doctor," Avery says, holding out her arm.

You walk into Avery's reach, letting her climb from Steve's arms to yours without complaint. "He didn't have time to be a doctor, he was too busy being the best dad ever."

"Are you flirting with me?" Steve asks.

"Duh, Stevie." You turn your attention to Avery, struggling to hold her and stroke a hair from her face. "Don't worry about me. Promise me you won't, Ave."

"I just don't want you to go away," Avery says with a frown.

Steve feels an unexpected heat behind his eyes. You smile softly, your thumb on Avery's cheek. "Then I won't. I'll stay. I can't go anywhere without you, gorgeous."

Steve strokes the back of Avery's head. "And I can't be without either of you, so mom doesn't have a choice."

He wishes things were that simple. Steve has no idea what the future holds, but he chooses to believe it'll be a good one, where every one of his girls gets to grow old. But the future isn't something he can predict nor change by wishing alone.

"Did that make much sense to you, sweetheart?" you ask Avery.

"It makes sense. Sorry."

You and Steve make twin sounds of loving disbelief.

"Sorry for what?" you ask, as Steve says, "No, God, don't be sorry!"

"It's okay to ask me stuff," you say.

"That's what we're here for."

Avery wraps her arms around your neck. "Are you sure you'll be okay?" she whispers, near imperceptibly, Steve's ears straining to hear her under the sounds of the water heater and the television.

"I'm sure. I've done it three times already."

"Are you scared?"

You shake your head resolutely. "No. You know why?"

"Why?"

"'Cos I know, at the end of it I might get another little girl who's just like you. Or like Beth, or Dove. Maybe I'll get one who's nothing like any of you, but I know with such a great big sister she's going to be amazing."

Avery rests her cheek on your shoulder. "You think so?"

"I know so."

"Thank you," she says.

You laugh again. "For what?" you ask, nails raking up and down the length of her back. "Only telling you what's true. Me and daddy think you're the bestest."

Steve rubs his face with both hands rather than cry. Crying makes his eyes sore and he has to wake up at six AM tomorrow to take the girls to swimming lessons at seven thirty. (He also doesn't want Avery to see him crying and get the wrong idea, what with the previous conversation.)

"Mom?" Bethie asks in the doorway.

"Yes?" you murmur, resting your head atop Avery's gently.

"Excuse me."

You laugh a charmed laugh and scoot out of the way, resting your weight on the door jam. Bethie looks incredibly small idling at his feet, even though Dove is much smaller. She smiles nervously.

"Daddy?"

"Yes?" he asks, crossing his arms over his chest. He pretends to be nonchalant, while inside he's thinking about lots of things. Avery's huge heart and all her worries. Bethie's emerging cheekiness after years of quiet. Dove's roaring giggle when you squeeze her just right. And you, your bump, your devotion to him and the girls, but more than that —your voice and how you talk with all the good you possess. How you're talking now to Avery in dulcet tones.

Bethie takes his hand. "Can I have the rest of my mac and cheese, please?"

"Yeah, babe. Unless you want dessert instead?"

His hand sways in her grip. "I want mac and cheese if that's okay."

Steve picks her up with a typical dad groan. He'll check on Dove first, but he has no qualms with warming her mac and cheese. He'd offer to make you another helping if you weren't distracted entirely, nose bridge nuzzling into Avery's neck.

He doesn't know what the future holds, but he hopes for more of this.

852 notes · View notes

simpingland · 9 months

Note

Ooohhhh okie so;

Can I get a Harwin x Fem!Reader

Major fluff, I’m thinking Harwin either wining or losing to Daemon at a tourney and reader like cleans him up as they share a bath.

The idea is really vague.

(Feel free to ignore!!)

Crown of Soap.// Ser Harwin Strong x fem!reader.

Summary: Ser Harwin only wants to crown his wife as the Queen of Love and Beauty. And the problem is not that Daemon is his opponent, but that his wife does not want Harwin to win the tournament.

A/N: sorry if this was too much introduction till the bath. I LOVED THIS IDEA. Thank you for reaching, hope you like it❤️gif not mine.

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

Days at King Viserys's court were quiet considering the presence of Prince Daemon. Daemon's marriage to his beloved niece Rhaenyra had brought happiness to the family, though it was a difficult decision for the King. But the Princess radiated joy and quickly outgrown your reputation as a happy bride. Whenever Rhaenyra appeared in your room, your husband Harwin left politely but hurriedly. You could see him roll his eyes when your attention was taken from him, and you could only smile at his politeness, knowing full well that he was not irritated, and that he was exaggerating just to amuse you. You, on the other hand, were deeply happy for your dear friend Rhaenyra, who had trusted you from the first day you sat beside her. And of course, the Crown Princess's wedding deserved something grand, something to entertain the nobles, a tournament.

"No, Harwin, there is no need for you to participate," you told him at dinner. Your refusal took him by surprise.

"And why not? It will be fun. Besides, who can beat me?"

Ser Harwin "Breakbones," of course, and his confident smile appeared at that nickname. And the breadth of his shoulders and the strength of his arms would never deny it, but not everything lasts forever. Daemon was a proud, competitive man, and besides, Harwin was more clumsy, strong, but clumsy.

"Well, I just don't want you to get hurt too badly."

"I'll take my chances. I want to crown you Queen of love and beauty."

"That's very sweet..." you saw him take your hand, pleased with himself. "But I wouldn't want you to."

"I'm not understanding anything."

Poor thing, you stroked his hand, big and rough but so manly and tender.

"It's a tournament in honour of Daemon and Rhaenyra. And Daemon will want to win to crown Rhaenyra. And honestly, she deserves to be crowned, even if Daemon doesn't deserve to win. You don't know how many times the Princess has cried on my shoulder for Daemon. She doesn't deserve that man either...but since she's got him, it would be fitting to give them a nice start to their marriage. Do you understand, my love?"

You watched as he processed the information, his sweet eyes looking into yours. And he nodded, smiling and stroking your hand back.

"All right...but I'm not going to make a fool of myself."

"Harwin..." you chided him.

"You deserve crowns too, and it is my duty to honour you. So I won't let them laugh at me or you. And I will fight as hard as the Prince fights." His tone was serious, but not strong or stern.

"I don't want a crown!"

"Then you shall have it!"

"You are disgustingly stubborn."

"You cannot prevent me from winning fairly. It is dishonourable."

"Harwin, please..." he got up to get into bed, shaking his head.

"I'm sorry, but I'm going to win you that crown." He pointed his finger at you and began to undress.

"Then I'll flush it down the toilet," you lied, crossing your arms.

You could see the smile creeping back on his face, and you couldn't hide it much longer either. And the 'discussion' went on until Harwin fell asleep.

The tournament was not long in coming. Of course, while you were putting on one of your best dresses, Harwin was putting on one of his best suits of armour. He sat obediently for you to put his long, curly hair up in a ponytail. You offered to be late for the tournament while you frolicked in bed, but he declined.

"We'll enjoy tonight, where I can see you happy and beautiful with your new crown. Only with your crown."

"That's if you come in one piece, my love."

Of course, he never took such remarks with offence. A man as great as he was did not doubt his manliness in the face of words, and his dear wife was the first with whom he could be vulnerable and who truly knew his ways. And to hurt Harwin's spirit it took more than that, and that was what you loved most about him, that he was so much more than 'the strongest man in the Seven Kingdoms'. He gave you a tantalising kiss before parting from you, a kiss that could have gone further, but Harwin broke away, leaving you wanting more. As you sat down next to Rhaenyra, you could see him smile sympathetically at his squire, happy and nervous. The bride looked with his same emotions, her eyes searching energetically for Daemon, touching her necklace.

"Who are you going to bet on, Princess?" you asked jokingly.

"For my husband, just as you will bet on yours..." she replied, smiling.

"Oh, don't think I'm so convinced. Prince Daemon will do everything he can to crown you. He'd be willing to finish off the brute of Harwin to win a kiss from you."

You watched as Rhaenyra laughed, blushing. She reminded you of yourself when you were newly wed. A young lady, who travelled with her father to King's Landing to gain a place among the King's court. And of course, you were given the duty of marriage. The Princess and now Queen Alicent were kind, and kept you company during the exhausting courtships of the lords. Rhaenyra was only bent on marrying Daemon, Alicent was already married, but you couldn't find anyone you liked at all. Until the hunt in honour of Aegon. Ser Harwin Strong hadn't said a word to you since you arrived, and it was understandable since you were a girl in the shadow of a princess and liked to watch him from afar. When the whole court moved to spend three days hunting, the Strongs offered to take you and your father in the carriage, for yours had broken down in the middle of the road. And it was during those days that Harwin truly saw you. He gave up riding on his own horse to keep talking to you on the road, gave you his cloak at night when it was cool, and sat beside you at suppers, listening to your gossip while he told you what he had seen on the hunt. And though Harwin was a candidate to be the Princess's husband, he was quick to ask your father for your hand, but not before asking you first. Your betrothal was so simple and so happy that Rhaenyra had to hide her jealousy, but it was soon noticed and you and Harwin planned dinners with Ser Lyonel, where you convinced him that Daemon would be the best choice and conveyed it to the king. You triumphed.

The jousting began, and as expected, the final three were Daemon, Harwin and Criston. Your husband winked at you every time his opponent fell to the ground. And it was he who defeated Criston, making both you and Rhaenyra chuckle a bit too much. When it was his and Daemon's turn, they both approached the stand where you were standing. Daemon asked his wife for her favour, while Harwin asked for yours. You chose the most beautiful and simple ribbon, with small purple flowers and colourful dark green leaves. When you put it on Harwin, you looked into his eyes.

"I would wish you luck, my lord, but if you do the right thing, you will always come out on top." That was your last request.

And you watched as they both clung tightly to your horses. Difficult to overthrow, Daemon and Harwin were beginning to grow frustrated, as were you and Rhaenyra. And when Harwin broke Daemon's shield, it was all but settled for the knight to win, not the prince. Before they made the final turn, Harwin looked at you, without the smile, and you nodded for him to look at Rhaenyra. She was holding your hands, her face was one of disappointment as she saw her husband angry at the situation. And you saw how he himself struggled. On the last blow, Harwin again galloped with impetus, as did the Prince, and before he could strike the blow, the Prince was able to push him off his horse. It was harsh, and a resounding fall. Everyone held their breath a little before bursting into applause as Harwin removed his helmet in defeat. You clapped as you watched your husband, being lifted up by Daemon. They shook hands and then he reached for his squire. And from a distance he could see the smile on your face as Rhaenyra was crowned Queen of Love and Beauty by her husband. Then, he waited for you to arrive at his tent so that you would feel sorry for him.

"Are you all right?" You asked, genuinely dismayed.

"I think I need to wait in bed for a month and a half. In the company of my wife, naked if possible. The masters so indicate." He exaggerated a tired tone that made you laugh.

"You are perfectly fine, I see. Though you reek of sweat."

"A crown of flowers would have taken away this stench."

"Soap and water is also a good option."

And you walked towards the castle, but Harwin was not at your side, and when you turned you saw that he was limping. The sight made you tender, for he was so big, he made so much noise in that armour, and he walked like a little boy with that smile framed by a beard. You had to let him rest his arm on your shoulders.

"Come on, 'old-bones', we haven't got all day."

You smiled at him when he rolled his eyes at his nickname. Harwin didn't have that many years on you, you were always amused by the nickname, pointing out his very limited grey hair as if it was the beginning of the end, and watched as he proceeded to try to impress you with his talents. And you loved those displays, him picking you up, practising with his sword in front of you, or helping to fix things around the castle. In time, Harwin began to enjoy your "pity" for him when he fell asleep on your chest, or when you read aloud to him. When he was drowsy he always let you fill his face with little kisses. The maidens prepared a large bath for you, with refreshing water after the hot day, and the squire brought into the room the cloak, shield and crown with which you had wished Harwin luck.

You helped him take off his armour, one of your favourite hobbies, and your husband always enjoyed watching your concentration. He had bruises when you undressed him completely, and one that was sure to get worse on his abdomen, where Daemon had struck to get him to throw it off. He was sweaty, incredibly handsome, but his injuries worried you.

"Don't worry," he said, voice low and caressing your face, making you stare at him. "I'm fine."

"It's a good bump."

"That's what happens when you raise your arm too high, you find a weak spot."

You could tell by the smile. Harwin had done it on purpose, he'd let himself get hit. It made sense, he had the advantage, and he was too easy to beat even when Daemon had been hurt worse.

"You let him win..."

"No..." he lied. "I'm old, that's all."

He climbed into the tub by himself, sinking down to wet his head. Meanwhile, you stood outside, watching him, your brave knight. Grabbing an ointment, you sat beside the tub and carefully spread the cream over those bruises. You could feel Harwin's eyes following you. And when you reached the big one, the pain made him pull away.

"I'm sorry," you said, "I can't quite reach, turn around a bit."

"No," he replied. "Get in with me. You smell like sweat too."

"But I have to put the ointment on you."

"Put it on later. Take a bath with me."

At your refusal, Harwin splashed the water on you, soaking much of your dress and hair. So, wanting to kill him, you gasped and shed your clothes. Your husband couldn't take his eyes off you, and immediately made room for you.

"This bathtub isn't that big..." you said as you settled in.

"I know, and that's what I like the most."

You were in front of him. You had to pull your knees up to your chest to get in, and Harwin grabbed your foot and made you straighten your leg. When he kissed you on the sole, his beard tickled you.

"Harwin, stop!"

"I can't hear you, wife, you're too far away." And he tugged at the hand you'd thrown to pull your foot away from his lips, and pulled you down to lie in his lap. Your faces close and his hands resting on your waist. Then already Harwin let you clean him. With the washcloth and a bar of soap, he closed his eyes as you ran it gently over his armpits, over his shoulders, always leaving a path of caresses.

"It's a shame you didn't win, my lord..."

"More's my pity you didn't get a crown."

"You're obsessed with the crown," you joked. Harwin opened his eyes to focus on you. "Honestly, I don't need you to win tournaments or be a great fighter to prove anything. I like the humble, good man I have for a husband."

As you washed his face, Harwin moved his hand along the curve of your back.

"I just wanted to see you shine," he confessed.

"What do you mean?"

"Ever since you came to the palace, you've been in the Princess's shadow forever. And I only dared to speak to you when I could find you apart from her. You are more than a lady-in-waiting to Rhaenyra, and I feel that the life I give you does not take you away from that. I feel that...I need to bring you pride and honour. I need them to see you, as I see you."

"Oh, Harwin..." you threw yourself on his mouth, and you kissed each other so passionately that you felt like you could melt right there, on top of your husband, with his flowery scent and warm from sweat. And as you kissed, Harwin's hand caressed your thighs, drawing you even closer to him. When you broke apart, your smile was irrepressible.

"I adore you... I adore you for what you have done for Rhaenyra. And I adore you for thinking of me. And I love you, Harwin, I love you for being the gentle knight as sweet as you are stubborn."

You saw him blush, smiling. And you kept bathing him until all that was left to do was to wash his hair. Then you stood behind him, all that back holding your upperbody.

"I can't wait to be an old man so you have to bathe me all the time." You felt him relax with your massage.

"In a month you'll be fulfilling that dream, you little elder."

You heard his laughter as you removed the soap from his hair. And then all that was left to do was relax. With Harwin between your legs and his head on your chest, his hands caressed the hands resting on his chest and you stared into nothingness. Then you began to talk about your favourite subject.

"I saw Criston tripping before the joust began," Harwin said. "He thought no one saw him, but he saw me looking at him."

"And you laughed, didn't you?"

"And I laughed..." and Harwin burst into laughter again, laughing and making you laugh as well. "Well, though in fairness, I don't think there's anyone in the kingdom who could wear a crown of flowers better than Criston, he's a handsome mother fucker..."

"I don't agree. He's very handsome...but he doesn't deserve it."

Your arm reached for the small crown from before, Harwin looked over to see what you were doing. When you took the little crown, he thought he understood everything.

"True, you are a better candidate for..." when he went to take it from you to crown you, you pushed it away from him.

"No, my dear Harwin. I don't deserve it either..." you put on an exaggerated solemn tone. "The true king of love and beauty is the sweet knight Ser Harwin 'Breakbones' Strong."

And he let you put the crown on him, his hair wet and clean. You watched as he clasped his hands together and placed them tenderly near his cheeks, lifting one shoulder flirtatiously. He forced you to kiss his hand, which you did as you laughed. But his appreciation was shown when he plunged you back into one of those kisses that only he knew how to give you, the kiss he had promised before the joust began.

And you knew he was truly honoured because he spent the rest of the day with that wreath on, and took one of the flowers in his suit the next day. No one else could know even if they saw it on his shirt. But only you needed to know, because when you got close to his chest you could smell not just a flower, but the love and beauty it represented.

#house of the dragon #house of the dragon fanfiction #game of thrones fanfiction #harwin strong x reader #harwin strong imagine #harwin strong x oc #ser harwin strong #harwin strong #ser harwin x reader #harwin breakbones #harwin strong reader #ryan corr imagine #ryan corr #house of the dragon imagines #house of the dragon x reader #hotd x reader #hotd fluff #hotd imagine

610 notes · View notes

highhhfiveee · 5 months

Note

Imagine having to explain to Mike what a Gyatt is😭😭

and the fact that it's not even a noun, but like...an expression. don't get me started lmao. it's like 'GYAT!" 😃

tags: fluff [: (sweet discussions and fun talk of rollercoasters. abby is me, conked out after a twelve hour six flags day).

it'd been a fun saturday; you, mike, and abby had all gone to the popular amusement park in the city, sweating in the lengthy queue lines and pigging out on fried snacks and sweets that made your stomachs gurgle after each ride.

you'd gotten back home late, and abby had fallen asleep in the car, leaving you two to put her to bed before winding down yourselves.

you and mike shower together, pressing your bodies close and massaging at the other's muscles, aiding the scorching water in washing away the tension of activity.

afterwards, you two retreat to your room and slip into your pajamas lethargically, recollecting on the day's thrills. mike falls to the bed as he pulls his shirt over his chest, resting his back against the headboard and grabbing for his phone settled on the nightstand. "'the deep dive' was your favorite?"

you're sitting on your side of the bed, gathering your hair and securing it all at the top of your head before tying your scarf around it. you turn to mike with squinted eyes, challenging, "how could it not be? a 90 degree drop into the ground is crazy. it makes me see stars every time."

mike protests with a squeak, muttering, "eh. that's just it's gimmick. other than that, it's just a glorified 'kinder circuit'" as he stares down at his phone.

"do not compare it to a kid's rollercoaster, mike. that's insulting," you muse playfully, beginning to spread lotion over your arms and hands.

"yeah, yeah," he stalely sighs as his thumb tracked over his phone screen time and time again after a short burst of noise. lately, he'd been prone to doomscrolling on tiktok, hooked after abby had shown him a lot of videos from her for you page, and now, he's furrowing his eyes at videos and replies using this slang he's never heard before.

"do you know what a...'gyat' is?" he questions, trying out the word on his tongue in a few different inflections. "is it like 'guy-yat'? they're saying it like 'guy-yat' in all these videos."

you take a deep breath, rolling your eyes in annoyance as you finish rubbing lotion into the skin of your legs and crawl up to the top of the bed to snuggle into mike's shoulder. "it's not a noun. it's really shortened AAVE, like...'gotdamn', but using it as a noun is its appropriated form."

mike hums, letting out a light chuckle at the frivolity of social media. you go over the term with him, showing him what it really sounds like and means, and he copies you, making you giggle.

"okay, that makes sense. seeing...'latina gyatt' did not make me feel good and now i know why," you full on belly-laugh then, sliding down on the sheets until your head is resting on mike's chest where you feel his own boisterous joy rumble through your cheek.

"well that's good. i can't let you go around being uninformed." mike grins down at you, wrapping his arms around your waist and giving your torso a gentle squeeze. with a tired tone, he mutters, "mmmm, and that's why i love you, baby."

okie short and sweet [: hope you all enjoyed!

faire's seedlings ✿

@leahdhopkins4321-@pyr0-kai-@angstywhore-@sunazroo-@nyxthoughtss-@mirophobic-@fayethor-@marixsimps-@regretfulme-@ithinkitszeph-@707xn-@cattt777-@violetta-ximena-@amnesia33-@topnerd03-@fastnights-@laprvphette-@savage-aespa-@mfdxz-@0-tatiana-0-@dusstory-@delwrites-@mikeschmidtgf-@jun1p3rlol-@xyzstar-@aquamarine001-@atrociouslybear-@ickleronniekinsemotionalrange

#fnaf #fnaf fic #fnaf movie #mike schmidt #mike schmidt x reader #josh hutcherson #mike schmidt fluff #faire is writing stuff #faire answers asks #faire’s mike schmidt <3 #faire says #we love cute shit #and i love rollercoasters tbh #someone get me six flags STAT

181 notes · View notes

downundergarfield · 5 months

Note

Hello! I didn't know if your request are open so feel free to ignore this.

Could you do headcanons of face sitting with engineer, medic heavy and scout with a fem! Reader?

Thank you in advance, have a great day!

Okie dokie let me try!!!

Some Mercs eating out F!Reader while she's sitting on their face.

Includes: Engineer, Medic, Heavy, Scout and bonus Sniper and Demoman!

NSFW! under the cut

Engineer

> Dell is a caring guy, so he quickly agrees to your intimate proposal.

> You carefully place yourself on his face and he strokes your thighs, speaking kindly to you, convincing you not to worry and give yourself to Uncle Dell.

> He has a thick, rough tongue. He explores your folds slowly and diligently, trying to be gentle with you. His gunslinger gently holds you without pressing, and his other hand strokes your thighs.

> When you finish, Dell doesn't let you get off until your orgasm ends. He then gently kisses your labia, smiling and praising you.

Medic

> He's a big experimenter when it comes to sex, so as soon as you suggest, he giggles, taking you with him.

> He closes the door to his office, plopping down on the couch and inviting you into his face.

> It has a somewhat thin, long, warm tongue. The Medic almost savors your folds, carefully circling and caressing the clitor, sometimes rather hastily penetrating inside.

> When you reach the finish line, he holds you tightly with his gloved hands, constantly praising you.

Heavy

> He does not immediately agree, at first he is embarrassed by such a proposal, but then he agrees.

> The room is dark, there is a carpet hanging on the wall, and Misha’s face is below you, blushed.

> He has a really thick and big tongue. It sinks a little heavily into your folds, going over everything at once. His large hands hold your hips tightly, occasionally stroking them.

> He kisses your clit while you cum and strokes your thighs with his fingers. He smiles, seeing how pleased you are and admits that he would do it again.

Scout

> He didn’t need much persuasion; on the contrary, he almost suggested it himself.

> He was ready to do it where you suggested, but you called him to your room. He lay down and with shining eyes admired how you undressed.

> Once you were on his face, Scout didn't want to hesitate. His thin, fast tongue almost buried itself in your folds. He closed his eyes in pleasure and pressed his lips to your pussy, while carefully exploring your bottom.

> Because of his speed, you finished quite quickly and Scout bit his lip while watching your orgasm.

Bonus!>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

Sniper

Demoman

> He blushes, hiding in his hat at your suggestion, but says he'll discuss it with you when you're home.

> Mick invites you to climb on him at night, which you do, even if his van is a little cramped.

> His big, hot tongue mixes with his warm breath, burning your sensitive folds. He carefully passes between your folds, without hesitation to climb inside. He sometimes scratches your thighs or touches your labia with his fangs.

> When you cum, he presses his lips to your pussy, sucking diligently and growling contentedly.

> He smiles but gets embarrassed when he hears your proposal. He doesn't mind.

> You appear on his face and he gently strokes your thighs so you don't worry about it.

> His large soft lips and thick tongue are quickly on your pussy, exploring and caressing. He kisses your clitor and labia, dipping his tongue into your folds again.

> When you come, he smiles and strokes you, praising you for the job you did.

361 notes · View notes

tubatwo · 1 year

Text

sabotage - huening kai

summary: you and kai paint each other’s faces on live and he surprises you

pairing: gn reader x huening kai

genre: fluff; 1.1k words

requested by ohmahgods

“you sure you wanna do this? I won’t force you if you feel uncomfortable,” kai asks one more time, a gentle look in his eyes as he makes direct eye contact with you.

your relationship wasn’t new, but it hadn’t been that long since you two revealed yourselves to the public. while showing off some of his favorite plushies on live, he realized that he accidentally brought a teddy bear that you gave him. a teddy bear that just so happened to have both of your initials engraved on its feet. sure, kai could have come up with something but 1. he’d probably suck at lying and 2. he didn’t want to hide you anymore. so he acted impulsively.

‎

you two had already had discussions about the topic and even talked to bighit staff about it. obviously, they weren’t on board at first but eventually gave you the green light. the only thing left was finding the perfect time to announce it. kai beat you to it, apologizing over and over for making the decision without you, but you were thankful anyway since you were a little shy.

and now here you were. the company phone propped up in front of you two and sets of paint scattered around the table.

“yes honey,” you grab his hands in yours as you return his eye contact, “I promise I want to do this with you. it’ll be fun!”

kai nods and turns toward the phone to press the big “GO LIVE” button. the next few seconds are a bit awkward since you have to wait for moas to start joining the live. soon enough, the chat is filled with shocked emojis and confusion.

WHAT

OH MY GOD??????

IS THAT HIS S/O

YOONGI MARRY ME

?????? who is that

DID HE GO LIVE BY ACCIDENT

“hi moa babies!” kai waves to the camera before taking your hand in his. “I hope you all don’t mind my super special guest!” you smile and wave before introducing yourself. “hi moas! i’m y/n, thank you for having me.”

y/n is so cute

is this a marriage announcement? keke

why can’t I look like them

THEY LOOK LIKE AN ANGEL

“some of you may remember my live where I showed some of my dolls and a very specific teddy bear… well this cutie over here gave him to me!” kai began, “I thought that it would be nice for the person I love to get to know the other people I love! so, we prepared fun things to do today while we talk to moa.” kai brings the paint into the camera frame.

“we’re gonna do some really cute face paints!” you explain while trying to get used to the speed of the comment section. kai chuckles before scrolling up to catch a specific comment. “baby look! moas think you look super pretty… oh, yes they are an angel… no this wasn’t by accident! wait a marriage announcement?!” his famous laugh echoing in the room, making you laugh as well.

after a while all of the paint bottles are open and you’ve both put on cute animal headbands to keep hair out of your faces. “moa! what should we paint on each other?” kai asks.

you should make kai look super cool!

draw a butterfly on y/n!

i cant wait to see the results

while the speed of the comments were making your head hurt, kai catches a specific one that almost makes an evil laugh slip out.

you should pretend to make y/n pretty but make it bad kekeke

“you want me to make kai look cool? hmm… what about like the movie avatar?” you ask the chat. kai lets out a playful gasp. “ah right, my baby is really good at drawing so i’ll look super cool!” his use of pet names makes you look over at him with wide eyes. he simply winks at you and tickles your chin.

W RIZZ

kai the rizzler

WHY CANT THAT BE ME

“okay, how about I paint you first and you do mine last?” you suggest. “okie!” kai agrees and you get started.

you alternate between focusing on kai’s face and responding to some of the comments. kai faces you and stares at you with love in his eyes as you softly brush strokes of paint onto his skin. the paint is cold on his cheeks, but you make them feel so, so warm. thankfully, the paint is covering his blush. he feels like he’s falling in love all over again, and he feels like the luckiest man in the world.

“you’re so beautiful, baby…” his whisper snaps you out of the trance you had while reading comments. your head whips around to see the lovesick expression on his face. at this point, it’s pretty obvious that he doesn’t care about showing pda with you live, so you try to relax a bit.

“says you! moa, isn’t he like a greek god?” you ask the chat while carefully cradling his face in your hands, showing him off to the camera. he laughs a little before shaking his head. “I mean it, you’re so handsome, your face is already a masterpiece.” you notice kai getting shy before he tries to lean in to meet your lips. you back up quickly and softly put your hands on his shoulders. “okay woah! 1. we’re live and 2. y-you have wet paint all over you!” you stutter while kai laughs at your reaction.

so im gonna die lonely

TAKING A NAP ON A BRIDGE

eventually, you finish the avatar-style painting on kai’s face and he takes a look at himself through the live screen. “wah! baby, this is so cool!” he exclaims, “you’re so cool and talented, i’m jealous!” you smile softly and rub his arm as a thanks. you make sure to thank moa in the chat as well for all of the compliments. while reading comments, kai wants your attention back, so he uses two fingers to turn your face towards him. the action makes you blush and the chat goes crazy once again. “my turn.”

were third wheeling i guess

IN FRONT OF MY SALAD?????

it seemed like an eternity passes before kai finishes your painting. with the amount of time he was taking, you felt grateful that he was putting a serious effort into it. however, it was weird how his hand stayed firm on your cheek, blocking you from looking anywhere else but at him.

HES SABOTAGING

LMAO

IS HE DRAWING WARIO??

HES SO WRONG FOR THIS

“okay, one last finishing touch…” kai says. you sit and wait patiently for him to pick up another brush, but instead, you’re met with a quick peck on your lips and the following words, “i’m sorry…”

you tilt your head in confusion at kai’s dolphin laugh before looking at the screen.

“HUENING KAI!”

452 notes · View notes