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#and she’s certainly not tiny the boys are just big big big
eiightysixbaby · 5 months
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baby, it’s cold outside
i ought to say no, no, no sir — at least i’m gonna say that i tried!
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eddie munson x fem!reader
3.6k
cw: 18+ ONLY - SMUT. mutual pining, friends to lovers, eddie convinces reader to stay but he’s not a creep - she’s just nervous, one (1) singular use of y/n, brief mentions of alcohol and weed consumption, protected piv sex, fingering. barely proofread so i apologize in advance if there's mistakes xoxo love u guys.
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“No, really! I’m serious,” you laugh, tears springing from the creases in the corners of your eyes. “I had the biggest crush on him,” you add, taking a tiny hit of the joint between your fingers before letting it rest in the ash tray.
The warmth from the tiny space-heater in Eddie’s living room kisses your cheeks, your fingers warming up where they wrap around your mug of spiked cider. You shift your weight on the worn cushions of the sofa, tucking one leg beneath you. You’re home from college for the holidays, catching up with all of your closest friends. Steve had hosted at his place, and when the party died down there Eddie had offered that you come back to his.
“I can’t believe you never told me,” the boy grins, shaking his head as he takes a swig of his beer.
“Yeah, well… I don’t know. We were in high school. Everything feels like such a big deal when you’re in high school. I felt like that crush could’ve been the end of the world if word got out,” you giggle, leaning your head back against the cushions behind you.
“I get what you mean,” he says, leaning to knock his shoulder with yours. “I just can’t believe I didn’t know,” he says, glancing sideways at you. “You weren’t always subtle, you know.”
You shove him, snorting out another laugh.
“Okay, so who was your high school crush?” you ask him, tilting your head to face him, a playful grin on your face.
“Chrissy Cunningham,” he says easily.
“That’s the obvious one,” you roll your eyes. “We all knew that. Robin never let you live it down. I want your secret crush, one you never told anyone about. You have to have one,” you pry.
Eddie swallows, his Adam’s apple bobbing in his throat. His eyes shift away from yours, his beer bottle raising to his mouth to take another sip. A way to avoid his answer.
“Well,” he says, his voice gravelly. “It was, uh, it was… you, actually.” He’s quieter now, less sure of himself than you’ve maybe ever seen him. Your heart twists inside of your chest.
“What!?” you ask, sitting upright. You didn’t mean to sound so incredulous, but it certainly caught you off guard.
“Forget it, it’s stupid,” Eddie retreats, trying to laugh it off. You stop him, though, reaching out to put a hand on his knee.
“No, no. It’s not stupid. I just… I had no idea,” you say, emphasizing the last few words.
“Yeah. It’s like you said, I thought it would’ve been the end of the world if you found out,” he laughs a little, but you detect a twinge of sadness behind it.
“Eddie…” you say. “You could’ve told me. I— I’m glad you told me now,” you continue, rubbing a soft circle over his knee with your thumb.
“You are?” he raises an eyebrow, clearly skeptical.
“Yeah. But I have one question,” you say, drawing your hand back from him and placing it in your lap.
“Okay, shoot.”
��Do you still have feelings for me? Now?” you ask nervously, glancing back and forth between the contents of your cup and his face.
He’s quiet, searching your face.
“Would it completely ruin everything if I said yes?” he asks, so quietly. His voice a gentle hum in your ears.
Suddenly, words escape you. You feel frozen, not knowing what to say. No, it wouldn’t, is what you want to say. Kiss me, please, is what you want to demand of him. But you find yourself unable to say anything at all. His gaze is overwhelming. Your heart races in your chest. Why is this so daunting?
He’s about to speak again, his mouth opening and closing. The moment is heavy, nerves raised high. Something in you wants to run, to flee. To escape the scary precipice you teeter on, between friends and something more. You welcomed this, but now it’s too much. You glance at the clock, cursing under your breath when you see the time. An excuse.
“Shit, Eddie, I’m so sorry. It’s so late, I really should get going—” you say, scrambling to stand while you set your mug on the coffee table.
“Wait,” a firm but comforting hand grips your arm, stopping you. “Please don’t go,” he says.
“Eddie, it’s almost midnight—”
“So stay with me. Please don’t leave right now, not after what we just talked about.”
“My parents, Eddie, they’ll be worried,” you rush out, slipping on your boots at the door and opening it.
A flurry of snow falls outside, coating the cars and the dirt and what’s left of the grass. The December night air is frigid and harsh where it hits your skin.
“Oh!” you gasp, wincing at the cold.
Eddie’s stood right behind you, his arm reaching over you and pushing the door shut again.
“No way you’re driving home in that, ‘s dangerous,” he tells you.
“Maybe I’ll wait it out…” you murmur, words failing you the longer he stares at you.
Your cheeks feel hot despite the below-zero windchill. Facing Eddie is harder than it had been five minutes ago, and you’re the one who brought on the conversation. He’s so close to you, gazing down at you, his eyes pleading.
“Y/N,” he says softly. “If you want to run, I won’t stop you. But I don’t think you really do. Just tell me, is the world going to end? Or can I have you?”
“I…. Eddie—” you stammer, and you really, truly feel like your heart might hammer through your chest and land on the floor.
His eyes are so big, pools of deep brown that draw you in. You could drown in them if you looked too long, could get lost in his vastness. He’s begging without words, aching for you to say something. Nervous eyes travel over his face, watching the slight twitch of his lips and the way they part just slightly. He’s beautiful. He’s always been beautiful.
“You can have me,” you whisper.
It takes a split second before his hands find your waist, pulling you into him. He noses at your face, watching your eyelids flutter shut. Every exhale from him wafts breath over your face, warm and so incredibly him. The air that he had breathed and put back out into the open space, filling your lungs now. His lips press against yours, featherlight and testing the waters. Your body relaxes fully, mouth melting against his as you let him kiss you.
It becomes needy quickly. What started so soft and tender becomes eager, open mouths devouring each other as tongues touch.
“I had a crush on you, too—” you blurt in between kisses.
“What?” he breathes, pressing a kiss to the corner of your mouth and then to your cheek. The way he says it doesn’t indicate surprise, but rather he just wants to hear you say it again.
“You were my other secret crush in high school…” you confess shyly, eyes wide and blinking at him when he stops his movements abruptly.
“You really weren’t always subtle,” is all he says, smiling as he leans in to kiss you once more.
Teeth clash, both of you giggling into the kiss, your hands wandering up his chest as he holds you close to him. He tugs at the collar of your sweater, pulling you with him as he walks backwards to the couch. Straddling his lap, your hands find their way up his shirt, smoothing over his soft skin. He lets out a satisfied hum, his own hands reaching around to squeeze your ass as he lets his tongue prod into your mouth.
A soft whimper escapes you, your hips grinding on top of his. You can feel the tent in his jeans as he grows stiff beneath them, completely affected by you. It becomes increasingly obvious to you, then, the boundaries that are being crossed right now. You can’t go back after this, things are forever changed between you and Eddie.
You stop kissing him, glancing out the window at the falling snow. “Eddie—” you say, your eyes looking frantic; skittish.
“Don’t you dare tell me you have to get home. It’s cold outside, baby. The weather’s bad,” he says softly, nuzzling his face into your hair by your ear.
“What happens after we do this? Everything will be different,” you say, wishing you weren’t so nervous. So hesitant. So scared to fall completely for him and for it to end badly.
“Sweetheart,” he coos, bringing a hand up to brush his fingers along your cheek. So gentle, so slow. “We don’t have to do anything. We can take it slow,” he soothes, and you can’t help but melt into his touch.
The blizzard still rages outside, no way you can get home safely.
You rest your forehead against his, your body relaxing once more. “I’m sorry for being so jumpy. I just… I want you in my life forever.”
“You know I feel the same. I’m going to make it my life’s mission to never give you a reason to kick me out of it,” he promises, hands rubbing up and down your sides.
You sigh, rolling your hips once atop his lap. Kisses are left on your cheeks, your jawline, traveling down to your neck. Everywhere his mouth lands is set ablaze, your body giving in to him, craving more. He paws at the hem of your sweater, causing you to pull it up and over your head, tossing it to the floor.
“Fuck,” he mutters, taking in the sight of you.
Your bra holds your breasts perfectly, your chest rising and falling with each breath you take. His hands trail up your skin, fingertips making you shudder as they dance along your torso. He caresses the swells of skin in warm hands, letting his thumbs run over the tops of each cup of your bra, dipping down to roll over your hardened nipples. A delighted, breathy noise leaves your throat, and Eddie revels in it. He wants to pull more pretty noises from you, keep you like putty in his hands.
“Can I take this off?” he asks you, dipping down to place a kiss between the curve of your breasts. His hands reach around your back, gliding along the band of your undergarment.
“Mhm,” you hum, your fingers tracing over the buckle on his belt.
He makes quick work of unclasping your bra, letting it rest on the floor with your sweater. His mouth immediately finds your tits, those big eyes of his glancing up at you as he sucks one nipple into his eager mouth.
You let your head fall back with a soft moan, electricity running through your veins. Your whole body is tuned into his actions, ready and waiting for more. And fuck, he’s barely doing anything yet but he’s so good. You know he’s fooled around here and there in the last few years, gained experience, but god, he’s so much better than you ever could have imagined on those late nights with your hand between your thighs. His hands and his mouth know exactly where to be at every second, making you perfectly pliant for him.
Your fingers start to undo his belt to the best of your distracted-ability, his tongue swirling around your nipple and making you dizzy with arousal. You work the button of his jeans open, fumbling with the zipper right after. You ease your weight off of him, hovering in place so he can slide the denim down till it pools around his calves.
A short, punctuated groan slips past his lips when you palm his stiff length over his boxers, his mouth now focused on your other nipple. Your short skirt does very little to keep you covered, the soft fabric riding so far up your thighs you’re almost exposed. His big palms move down to squeeze them, fingertips grazing beneath your skirt. You whine, bucking your hips slightly, encouraging him to move his fingers higher.
“Such a needy little thing, aren’t you?” he coos, his mouth so close to your ear, hands rubbing the expanse of your thighs. “Don’t worry, baby, I’m gonna take good care of you.”
It sends shivers down your spine, the way he talks to you. So unaccustomed to hearing him speak this way, and still in disbelief that he’s speaking this way to you — doing these things to you. His hands bunch your skirt up as far as it will go, fingernails dragging along your sheer black tights. He snags them, leaving a run in the material.
“Oops,” he says, smug as his hands climb your thighs, reaching closer and closer to your core. There’s still too many layers between him and you for your liking. Your tights and panties, his boxers concealing his cock.
“Eddieee,” you whine, squirming on his lap.
“What, sweet girl? Where do you need me?” he asks, voice so sugary sweet as he blinks at you, lashes fluttering.
You huff, brows furrowing in desperation. “Do you need me… here?” he asks, letting his fingers trail over your clothed core. They tease, cupping your sex and rubbing soft patterns on the skin.
“Yeah, please Eddie,” you gasp, your hands planting firmly on his shoulders to brace yourself.
“Take everything off for me, baby, yeah?” he suggests, watching intently when you stand momentarily to strip.
You’re grateful for the warmth coming from the small heater, the chill from outside slipping in through the cracks of the trailer’s windows being warded off to the best of the equipment’s ability. You come to straddle Eddie once more, one of his hands immediately grabbing your waist, the other making its way back to your cunt. He ghosts his fingertips over your clit, making your hips jerk ever so slightly. He laughs lowly, not mocking you but instead basking in the spell he has you under in this moment.
His index finger runs through your folds, collecting the wetness that waits for him. “Christ, sweetheart,” he murmurs, pressing his lips to yours for another kiss.
His tongue pushes gently past your lips right as he slips a finger inside of you, making you moan into his mouth. He swallows your sounds gratefully, his finger curling inside your walls to hopefully bring on more.
“Need more, Eddie,” you beg, grinding yourself on him. He obliges easily, slipping a second finger inside.
The way he stretches you is divine, it feels far too good to have you worrying any longer. You don’t care that one of your best friends has you naked on his lap, you don’t care about what your other friends will think, you don’t care that it’s late and you haven’t called home. You don’t care. He pumps his fingers in and out expertly, your arousal filling the trailer with lewd, wet noises. Your mouths move hastily against one another, kissing and licking and biting, making up for lost time.
“Feels so good,” you pant between kisses, making him smile.
“Yeah? You’re so gorgeous,” he praises, pressing more kisses to your face.
You feel your cheeks warm at his words, your head fuzzy. “Want— want you to fuck me,” you say softly, and he tilts his head, reading your expression.
“You sure?” he checks, stopping the movements of his fingers and instead removing them from you. He cups your face, his cheeks flushing pink when you nod.
“I’m sure,” you reply, reaching your hand down and squeezing the outline of his cock beneath cotton fabric.
He inhales, sharp and fast, his eyes half-closing in pleasure.
“Okay, sweetheart. Why don’t you lay down?” he asks, patting the cushion beside him.
You both maneuver your bodies, you lying on the sofa as he comes to hover over you. A condom had been pulled from his wallet, and he opens the packet with his teeth as he shimmies out of his boxers. You watch in awe as his cock springs free, the size of it surprising you. Your eyes are trained on him as he rolls the condom on, his fingers making quick work of it.
“Like what you see?” he asks, catching the area your eyes are glued to.
All you can do is nod, redirecting your eyes to the smirk on his face. Goosebumps rise on your skin, the icy wind blowing stronger outside now, more persistent in the way it penetrates the trailer walls. Eddie notices, standing up and pulling the thick knit blanket from the armchair in the corner of the room. He returns to the couch, positioning himself on top of you and awkwardly fixating the blanket over both of your bodies with your assistance.
It’s warm, and it’s safe, and it makes your heart swell.
“You ready?” he says quietly, kissing you on the cheek and then the forehead.
“Yeah,” you whisper, wrapping your arms around his neck and kissing him sweetly, letting your tongue take control this time.
He exhales heavily as he starts to push in, his head breaching your folds and making you both moan. His forehead rests atop yours, strong arms caging you in as he holds himself up. He moves slowly, filling you inch by inch and paying careful attention to your reactions. Your lips part, no sound coming out as he bottoms out inside of you. His head drops to your shoulder, shaggy hair tickling the junction between it and your neck.
“Fuck, Eddie,” you sigh, letting your body adjust to the stretch of him. It feels like he was made for you, your body quickly aching for more.
He starts moving, careful not to go too fast for you.
“Baby…” he breathes, pulling almost completely out before thrusting back in again.
Your hands slide down his back beneath the blanket, nails digging in slightly when he starts to pick up his pace. You can’t fucking believe you have him like this right now, and you think about how different this night would’ve played out if you had just gone home after leaving Steve’s. You’re grateful you didn’t; grateful to be here, being loved on by Eddie.
Your relationship blossoms into something new with each snap of his hips against yours, further solidifying the fact that you want more with him. Something deeper, something intimate.
Moans leave you in short, breathy spurts as he fucks you, filling you up over and over. He’ll slow down, taunting you with drawn out movements before he’s back to thrusting quickly, giving you whiplash. His teeth tug at your bottom lip, his nose brushing against yours. He smells so good and his skin is so warm, it only urges you closer and closer to release. Being so close to him is intoxicating, and you cry his name over and over as his cock hits that perfect spot inside of you.
“Getting close, angel?” he asks, grinning down at you when you nod. “God, you feel so fucking good around me, baby,” he says, kissing you like he simply can’t get enough.
His breathing is heavy, exertion evident in the way he fills his lungs with air. You snake a hand down your body, softly starting to rub your sensitive clit with the pad of your finger.
“Want you to cum for me, baby, give it all to me,” Eddie encourages you, your eyes screwing shut as pleasure builds and builds in the pit of your stomach.
His cock glides in and out with complete ease, your pussy soaking him. He keeps a moderate, steady pace, wanting to savor every last second of this milestone with you. You can feel yourself quickly approaching your release, rubbing more urgent circles around your clit now. Your brows are furrowed in concentration, Eddie’s breath fanning your face as he grunts with each thrust.
“Fuck, I’m gonna cum,” you pant, feeling yourself let go completely.
Your walls clench tight around him, tensing up over and over as he helps you ride out the high. “That’s it, sweet girl,” he soothes. “Did so good,” he praises as he continues to fuck into you.
He’s close, you can tell by the way his movements get less precise. You pull his face down to you, capturing his lips in what feels like the millionth kiss of the night. He kisses back urgently, pulling away only to warn you of his approaching climax.
“Shit, you’re gonna make me cum,” he huffs, barely giving you a few more thrusts before he’s spilling inside of the condom.
His hips stutter, and you can just barely feel the way his cock twitches as he rids himself of every drop. Both breathing heavily, he collapses on top of you, your arms wrapping around him to hold him tight. The blanket keeps the warmth locked in, his skin sweat-slick against yours.
Regaining composure, he pulls back enough to look at you.
“Did you mean it, when you said I can have you? Will you be mine?” he asks, his eyes boring into yours.
“Yes,” you assure him. “I’m yours.”
His grin is brighter than the sun, outshining the glow from the Christmas tree as he smiles down at you. All he can think to do is kiss you, and somehow it feels even sweeter this time.
Once you’ve both redressed, him in his pajama pants and you in his borrowed clothes, he pads into the living room with a glass of water for you.
“Oh, hey. The snowstorm’s died down,” he says, peering out the window. “You still want to try and make it home?”
“No. I want to stay right here,” you say, coming up behind him. Wrapped in a blanket, you reach your arms out, enveloping him in the warmth, too. Your face nuzzles into the space between his shoulder blades, before he turns around so he’s facing you.
“Good. Cause I really don’t want you to go,” he smiles, his dimples peeking out. “It’s still cold outside, after all. A lady like you should be safe and warm in my bed, not braving the elements.” You giggle, nuzzling your nose against his.
“You’ve convinced me. I’ll stay.”
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steviewashere · 4 months
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Kiss and Tell
(Can be found on ao3)
Steddie WC: 2,279 Tags: Post Season 4, Steve Harrington Has Auditory Processing Disorder, Eddie Munson Loves to Talk, Minor Angst, Mostly Fluff, Queer Eddie Munson, Steve Harrington Has a Bisexual Awakening, But He Already Knows (Sort of), First Kiss, Lots of Kissing
Based on this post that I made. Happy reading! <3
-------- Steve has a staring problem. He knows this. He's been told this. And it's not something he can help or fix or find an alternative for. This is just what he knows.
It's something he's tried to maintain since he was a little boy. And, on that same note, is something he picked up while being a boy in a room with two adults who were fast talkers and big negotiators and all-in on the nature of their careers. But his parents certainly hate that he has a staring problem. Which, that's not unusual, most people hate that he does. Because he doesn't look them in the eyes for more than thirty seconds at a time. And even if he does, he doesn't hear a single thing they said, politely asking they start over, and feeling hurt when they just scoff as loud as possible and walk away from the conversation all together.
The audio just doesn't process. Never has. Probably never will.
He listens to music, but doesn't understand any meaning. He talks over the phone, but must have all other sound blocked out and the curtains shut and his eyes closed to imagine what the words look like leaving the other person's mouth. He argues, but loses track of the original point of the argument—when he laughs instead of apologizes.
And it would be fine—if—he wasn't close to losing his life every year. Where he has to listen to everybody and the important tiny details and the plans and the reasons for what they're doing. Which leads him to danger. Which gives him a bruised face. Which makes the listening even harder, once the concussion leaves and he's just got the leftover damage of his quirkiness.
It would be fine—if—he wasn't made to feel so stupid for what he must do. The jabs and the constant reminders and the...yeah, his sob story.
But there was Tommy Hagan and Carol Perkins, who he could keep up with. Because they'd talk about the same things over and over, until he could practically relay all the information, pulled straight from the deep crevices of his brain, and it ends up that they had forgotten, rather than him.
And there was Nancy Wheeler, who was polite enough to repeat things. Who had flash cards and a soft, focusing voice. It was easy to write off looking at her lips. "Eyes up here, Steve," she'd say. "Sorry," he'd respond sheepishly, "getting lost." And he'd chuckle and she'd giggle and then they'd kiss a little and he wouldn't be reminded that he's just a little weird. That, maybe, he just isn't normal.
Robin Buckley makes things easy-ish. She talks fast. And a lot. And she never looks him in the eyes, unless she's asking for a very serious favor, or he has something on his face, or she just feels the need (she claims it's that she hasn't looked in a while, but he shrugs her off every time). (If he can get away with staring at her lips, then she can get away with never looking him in the eyes.) He's mentioned, though, that he has a hard time following her sometimes. That he needs the words repeated a few times. Explained the lip thing, with a tense voice and a quake in his chest and his fingers tapping at the sides of his thighs. And, for a brief moment, he had felt like a creep. Like one of those weirdos that preys on the idea of women kissing. And he wanted to open up Family Video's register, shove his head inside, and sort himself out into the container of fives. But she shrugged, said "Okay," and went back on some ramble, to which he was immediately drawn to her mouth. And saw her repeat the name, Vickie, at least twenty times. He grinned and then when the store was empty, he leaned across the counter and teasingly said, "You have a big fat crush on Vickie, don't you?" To say that he was proud of her sputtering is an understatement.
Now, Dustin and the others were harder to get through. Because they moved at their own pace. And they don't really stop to add him to the conversation. He gets it, to an extent. He knows that he's not really all that intrigued in what they enjoy. (Even if he really leans into the conversation when they mention Sherlock Holmes or Dracula or Star Wars or, even, Star Trek. And he pretends to not be interested in their science fair projects. Or the one time he caught them huddled around a Sports Illustrated, in which he fought the urge to chat their ears off about both baseball and basketball statistics.) But there's a point in the conversations where he's made to feel a little dumb; even if he was staring where they were speaking, but they always grow frustrated, a huff of air released, when they notice he's not "paying attention" (translation: looking them in the eyes. "Because, Steve, it's just talking etiquette!" Dustin had shouted once).
He loves all of them anyway. Even if he misses words. And he loses track of what they were saying. He just wishes they were a little bit more forgivable about it at the end of the day.
Then, Eddie Munson is walking along side him in an alternate universe. He's peeled the vest off his back and chucked it at Steve. And they're talking. Jealous of one another, but talking. But, Eddie's voice goes soft and quiet, his eyes pointing towards Nancy's back.
Steve is looking at Nancy, words fading into the background. And it's not a moment of realization. Or a moment of longing. Yearning, what say you. No—it's one of his moments in which he's "listening," but not processing. So he looks back. And for a mere second, Eddie's eyes are big where Steve stares. Big and wet and curious. Big and wet and persuasive. Big and wet and not at all his lips and Steve is still not listening.
But his lips. Well, Steve's seen lips. These are pretty. They're pink. Chapped and bitten and plush appearing. Mesmerizing. Stretching over Eddie's sharp teeth, exposing dimples and smile lines, making his recent stubble more noticeable than it's ever been before. But his lips are pretty.
Like girls lips, Steve muses. Not really taking in what that means. Because Eddie's saying something about true love. And—shit—okay. Steve can get behind an act of true love. He can get behind sharing denim and coating Eddie's clothes in blood and staring down his lips and—god, his eyes, Steve can't help but notice once more.
Eddie's like a vulnerable cow. With pretty lips, he has to point out. Or a baby deer. With such pretty lips. And he's talking and Steve's finally listening. But it's not just processing. No, Steve's intrigued, interested even. He tilts his head like a curious puppy. Leaning in. Eddie's breath ghosts the tip of his nose. And, sure, it's a little rank. But weirdly sweet. Warm where Steve is otherwise cold. Warm in places Steve's never considered to feel warm in, but he's willing to give in, to wrap up in whatever Eddie has to say. If it all means more of him.
So, it makes sense that after all that they go through, Steve finds himself in Eddie's orbit. As a friend. As a trauma bond. As everything Eddie needs him to be.
He sits on the Munson's couch. On the cushion that dips a little too low. The lights orange and dim and casting beautiful streaks of almost candle light on Eddie's soft, beautiful features. Highlighting where his nose is the most bulbous. His pronounced Cupid's bow. The outer edges of his irises, golden and honey against the off-white of his scleras.
Eddie talks like Robin does. Excited. A lot. Fast. But his voice is soft, focused on the information—like Nancy's. It's teasing, like Dustin's. Soft, though. So gentle. Murmured. Which makes sense, if Steve were to stop and think about it for just a moment. With how late it is. With the little amount of weed they smoked. And it all just fits, with how slow and careful Eddie's lips move. As if testing the words. As if searching for what he means.
But, god, Steve is following along. Of course he is. Hanging onto each one of Eddie's words.
"So, the cashier at the record store got all apprehensive about selling me this tape. Which, I guess makes sense because it's a special edition. Comes with a photo card or whatever, but like—Come on, y'know? If he wanted it so bad, he should'a bought it the moment it dropped. Not my fault he slacks on not just his job, but also his opportunities," Eddie rambles. And, that's right, he's complaining about the music store encounter he had today. Trying to buy some album for some band. Steve got lost part of the way through, so he's not sure who exactly Eddie was getting a tape for. The style of music. But he has most of the information. He just—
Has to squint harder.
So, Steve leans in. As casual as he possibly can. And narrows his eyes at Eddie's lips. The word pretty comes to mind again. Because of course it does. And he can't pull his eyes away, no matter how hard he tries. For some reason, the tips of his fingers tingle a little. Wanting to reach out. Trace his lower lip, right where it sticks out, just above the divot of his chin. Would it be soft, he asks himself. Does he wear chapstick? Steve sighs softly. I wish I could...taste it. His eyes widen, just the tiniest bit. But he ignores that in favor of whatever Eddie is saying. If only he could make it out. He leans impossibly closer.
And there it is again. The soft puffs of warm air. On the tip of his nose. His own lips. Tickling his stubble. Eddie's breath smells like weed and strawberry Tab; a little bit of Kraft macaroni and cheese. Maybe the smallest trace of pepper—
"Uh, Steve?" Eddie nervously calls out. But gets no response. Steve is only a couple inches away from his face. Eyes hooded. Glassy. Zeroed in on Eddie's lips. He's not talking. Doesn't even give a hum. Just...keeps staring.
Eddie sucks in a breath. Eyes darting over Steve's face. He doesn't talk again, hoping maybe Steve will stop. But, nope. In fact, the only thing Eddie gets as acknowledgement for the fact he's stopped talking, is that Steve pouts. Upset. As if his lips no longer moving is some great catastrophe to Steve, some tragedy, some misfortune.
And, Eddie, the awful wreck that he is, can only assume that this means one thing.
Steve wants a kiss. And is, maybe, too chicken shit to close the gap.
So, with no other option. And definitely not wanting to get away from the heated, stirring, calm mask of Steve's face—Eddie presses his mouth against Steve's. Hesitantly smushing their lips together. Dragging his lower lip against Steve's soft scowling one.
And he pulls away. Because Steve isn't doing anything in response.
No, in fact, Steve is extremely expressive now.
Wide eyes. Mouth opened into a silent "Oh." His cheeks are flushed. And as quick as it came upon him, whatever realization that was, fades. Like a cartoon character, Steve's face melts into one of pure infatuation. Mouth lilting. His posture slouching. Eyes going soft against the extreme red of his face.
"Do that again," Steve whispers.
Eddie obliges. And he obliges. And he keeps obliging until they're under a cool top sheet, skin slick with sweat and eyes piercing one another's mouths.
That's when, in the silent air of Eddie's tiny bedroom, Steve admits the greatest thing in the world. "I don't really process when people are talking unless I'm looking at their mouth. I have to read their lips. I didn't—I wasn't trying to kiss you at first, but—" And the motherfucker giggles. "If that's all it took..." Then he's kissing Eddie again. Like it's the last thing he'll ever get to do. And Eddie thinks, If I die from running out of breath doing this, then I've done everything in my life correctly.
So, sure, Steve has a huge staring problem. And he doesn't really listen. And it's something he'll never fix, even if there's a way to.
But he finds that his technique—the thing he's crafted since he was a little boy—no longer works. At least, not on Eddie. Because suddenly, looking at his gorgeous pink lips makes Steve only able to think about one thing: Kissing. And he can't follow along unless he fulfills that want.
Eddie could be in the middle of a deep, all inclusive description of his recent trap in the campaign he's crafting. He could be singing. He could be complaining about some movie he rented. But that doesn't matter. Because he stops talking the moment Steve leans in and kisses him. Kisses like he needs it to live.
And though he rolls his eyes. Huffs a breath. Smirks and barrels on. There's that giddiness, that love pooling in Eddie' heart. Just knowing the effect he has on Steve. And the way he's affected, too, when Steve just whispers, "Sorry, I got lost again. Start over?"
He obliges. And he keeps obliging. And his lips are usually swollen by the time he's finally done rambling.
Steve stares. Eddie talks. And it's the combination of a lifetime.
--------
❤️
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starkeyisthelastname · 3 months
Note
Hi! Could you do Rafe x virgin!reader where she wants to do it but she’s scared bc all her friends said it hurts and also bc rafe is big. He talks her through it (smut please🫶🏽)
(I picture Rafe in this as at the party in season 3 episode 7 🥵)
You sat on the edge of the king bed in what you assumed to be the master bedroom. The music from the party outside, could still be heard as you waited patiently for the man who told you to go upstairs. You couldn’t deny the fact you were nervous as you didn’t know exactly what was about to happen. All you knew was that you and the party host had been flirting with each other from the moment you arrived.
You had met Rafe working as a cart girl at the Island Club. The attraction there from the moment your eyes locked. He was gorgeous but intimidating. Your friends telling you to stay away from the troubled boy. His sex was rough and was painful as he showed no mercy to any of his partners in the bedroom. His size also part of that. You had never talked to him much, only occasional flirty glances and a hello. But the day he came in with his hair buzzed, sporting a whole new look, had you wanting him more than ever.
Which is how you found yourself in the master bedroom of Tannyhill at the party he had invited you to. Small talk, and red solo cups full of alcohol, had him asking you if you wanted to go upstairs. With a little bit of liquid courage, you nodded, ignoring the fear in the back of your mind. You were still a virgin and Rafe Cameron was most likely about to take it.
The bedroom door opened, making you looked up to see Rafe walking in, the lock clicking behind him. You swallowed the lump that was in your throat, the funny feeling in your tummy coming back as you looked up at him. “Is uh.. everything okay?” You asked, watching him stand in front of you. His light eyes, raked over your body which was barely covered by the tiny pink bikini.
Nodding, he stepped closer. “Yeah.. yeah.. everything is good.” He scratched the back of his head as if he was hesitant. “Mind if I tell you something?” He asked, glancing at you as to wait for your reaction. “What is it?” You asked, your voice barely audible as you felt his presence close in on you.
Your eyes focused on his, the magical looking blue now turning a dark color. “I absolutely want to ruin you.” He said lowly, smirk on his face.
Your fears came alive the moment he stripped of his swim trunks, the monster everyone had warned you about was now right in front of your eyes. He had taken his time with his thick digits and amazing tongue before telling him that you were ready. You were certainly wet enough after cumming for him, the bikini you wore, across the room as you laid naked. The man before you now completely nude, standing between your legs.
He helped you bend your legs back, knees resting against your chest so that he could see the pretty view. He ran the tip along your soaking folds, watching your body tense up immediately in nerves. “Hey, relax. Yeah? Look at me.” He told you, your eyes falling on his. Pushing in, the burning stretch had you wincing in pain as you felt just how huge he was. He let out a groan, eyes rolling back as he pushed through your tight cunt.
“You.. are so big.” You whimpered, gripping the sheets, the pain slowly subsiding to turn into pure pleasure. You looked down to watch his length disappear inside of you, your mouth falling open in a silent moan. His thrusts sped up, toned abs flexing and mouth open as he began to pound into you. You were soaking his cock, your cream at the base of his dick when he pulled back.
“I’m stretching this virgin pussy open, aren’t I?” His breath shallow as he hit something that was making you feel funny. “Such a good girl. Prettiest fucking thing I’ve ever seen.”
You gasped, your cunt clenching the more he spoke. The way this man was making you feel like you were on cloud nine just with his dick had you on the verge of exploding. “Ruining you for anybody else. Got that? Making you fucking mine.” He told you, his face nothing but serious as he made sure you looked directly at him. All you could do was nod lazily completely hypnotized by him and his dick, coming undone as you did something you had only ever seen in a porn video which was squirt like a geyser all over him.
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wormdebut · 14 days
Text
WALK HIM LIKE A DOG
@hellion-child you did this. Inspired by this legendary post.
‘It’s not illegal to go to the dog park, just to hear hot dads say Good Girl.’
Rating: M CW: overusage of the term daddy and Eddie just being a horny bastard.
——
“You know, this is fucking insane, right?” Chrissy laughs while Eddie lounges on the park bench.
Yes. He’s aware.
He and Chrissy don’t even have a dog and yet—
“Chris. Look at all of these great pet parents, taking care of these little doggies. Look at em. Wonderful. Stunning, very normal.”
Chrissy levels him with a glare. Being on the wrong side of a Chrissy glare is a scary thing, but alas his dog park visits are worth it.
“No. Look, listen. You’ve got all of these doggy daddies taking their lovely pups out for runs and walks and what not and then daddy wraps up his run and takes the precious ones to this here dog park. Woof.”
It really was worth it to Eddie, alright? There is nothing wrong with going to a public dog park to maybe hear a hot sweaty man coo at his dog.
‘Good Boy’
‘Precious Girl’
Bark bark bark or whatever.
Would Eddie ever talk to any of them? Absolutely the fuck not, but a man could dream.
He was bummed though because none of the hot guys were out, today.
Damn.
He is busy scanning the area to see if he missed anyone, Chrissy yapping on and on about how they could just get a dog when someone slows their run to chat.
“Hi!” She says. This woman is tall, short hair messed up from running, she’s got a bright ass orange jacket on, and she is most certainly Chrissy’s type. Thats not fucking fair at all, now is it?
Chrissy’s complaining tapers off. “Hey.”
They smile at each other, and this is truly unfair, Eddie thinks. This whole dog park thing was for him and yet.
“I hope you don’t mind, but me and my best friend just moved to the area and honestly, I think you’re pretty so—I just thought I would say hi.” She hardly makes eye contact with Eddie. So it’s clear who she’s talking to.
Like recognizes like, he supposes.
He can respect the straight forwardness of it all. Chrissy is just kinda staring at her so he speaks up. “Well, I’m Eddie and this is Chrissy, and I can confidently say that she also thinks you’re pretty.”
Both woman turn to stare and him, Chrissy with big eyes and the other woman with a smirk. She speaks, “Well, it must be my lucky day.” She turns back to Chrissy, “I’m Robin.”
The two get talking and Eddie is happy for his best friend, he really is, but where are all the hot men?
He’s about ready to call it quits when he sees a fucking god, running with a ridiculously stunning dog.
Hot people own hot dogs, he supposes.
This guy is—fuck. He’s sweaty from running, and his hair is fucking gorgeous, even after activities. Thats a green flag. Eddie is just shocked.
This is the dog daddy of all dog daddies. He’s wearing tiny fucking red shorts that expose thighs for days and—
“Jesus fuckin’—see?” Eddie doesn’t even care that he is interrupting the girls conversation cause this guys is—god damn. “He could slap a collar on me and walk me like a dog.”
Chrissy balks. “Eddie. We are in the company of a new friend. Robin doesn’t deserves this.”
Eddie simply shrugs and Robin laughs, “No. I think it’s hilarious which guy caught your eye?”
Oh, he likes Robin. “I like her. Get her number—“ He smiles big at Chrissy, before gesturing towards the fucking Adonis in tiny little running shorts. “Anywhozle. That one, look at him. On my knees in a second.”
He ignores Chrissy’s eye roll, and watches as Robin takes in the guy, before busting out in a laugh. “Oh my god—Steve?”
Oh shit.
“I—do you—“ Abort mission. Abort abort.
“Oh yeah, remember that best friend I was telling you guys about?”
She is still laughing, and Chrissy joins her before handing Robin her phone.
Eddie feels like he just got bamboozled.
“Chrissy, babe, I’ll text you. Eddie? I’ll see what I can do.” She smiles at them both before running over to ‘Steve’ and his—their?— gorgeous dog.
“No wait I—“ Eddie tries but she’s already over with Steve who is listening intently to what Robin has to say.
Oh god, oh no. Oh god.
Chrissy is just laughing softly into her hand, which turns into full laughter quick because Steve turns to look at them, smiles and winks.
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vagabond-umlaut · 2 months
Text
beckoning you, slowly, subtly
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Absence makes the heart grow fonder. Absence makes the heart yearn stronger.
Or: Gojo grapples with himself in the wake of you preparing to leave Tokyo Jujutsu High– in the wake of you preparing to leave him.
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▸ Gojo x Fem!Reader; Former Teacher x Former Student; Reader has graduated from high school and is moving overseas for college; Gojo is 24-ish while Reader is 18; He's such a sad pathetic boi here; You think Reader is better? She's worse; Angst and Fluff; Use of humor as a coping mechanism [until it fails]; Very soft character study
▸ I wrote this as a prequel set minimum 10 years before the fic 'ensnared' -> You need not read that to read this, though. This is a standalone fic, through and through! 😊
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Gojo feels nothing towards you.
No, he doesn't. He really, truly bears no feelings, whatsoever their nature might be, for you.
But... if it indeed is so... then why the hell are his knuckles so hesitant to strike the wood of your door, eh?
Gojo stays in this position for a beat or two more, before dropping his fist back to his side. Exhaling a mute yet deep sigh as his gaze travels over the tiny flowers and trees painted on the door. Next moves to the shoe rack beside, filled with neat rows of sneakers and flats. And finally reaches the cheery yellow paper taped to the door, your name written on it in smooth letters–
Before he can even realise it, the sorcerer finds his fingers over it, so wary yet wanting as they traverse the lines and the loops of the letters, eliciting a very soft murmur of the same from within, the latter darting past a dry throat and a heavy tongue...
"Sensei!"
The door suddenly springs open. Of course, with no one but you behind it.
Were here anyone else except him, Gojo is certain, they would have jumped feet in the air in response. Good thing, he isn't just some 'anyone else'. The sorcerer quickly withdraws his outstretched hand to stuff it into his pocket. And grins, the way he always does when caught in contemplation.
Big. Bright. Happy. So much so that it will either puzzle, or better yet, piss the other person off, eventually making them leave him to his devices...
"Heyyy," he drawls, decidedly making a show of his infamous breezy image— jarringly contrasting the manner his Six Eyes study your once decorated–now empty room, "Packing and everything's done, wow. Thought I might visit you one last time before you leave for..." Australia, but he chooses not to say it. Breezy image, remember?
Borrowing a beat to think– to make you think he's thinking, that is– the man resumes with a noisy chuckle, "Before you leave for wherever you're headed. When's your flight, by the way? Tonight or tomorrow morning?"
Whatever reply he might have been expecting from you, two shiny eyes and one o-shaped mouth certainly weren't on the list... You're pretty swift to erase them, however. Wiping your sweater paws over your face, you mimic his posture and grin back.
Cheeky, obviously, but much too strained than the ones you've given him so far... Your amused voice intrudes on his quiet scrutiny of you. "Why, Sensei? Missing me from this moment itself, eh?"
"Nah," he shoots back with a dismissive wave of his hand. Noting then ignoring the stinging twinge in the middle of his chest— no matter the fractional fall in your features; no matter anything, everything. "I'm literally waiting for when you'll walk out the school's torii gates— even more for when your plane will take off the tarmac and leave Japan! I was stuck teaching you for the better part of the past four years. What makes you think I'll miss you, heh. I'll be incredibly relieved, if anything."
"Ah," you say, following a moment's pause, "I see."
Quite an unenthusiastic reaction, if he's being honest; Gojo doesn't mind it, though. Not in the slightest.
Not even when he watches you regard him, oddly intense and pensive for a while, before you return to clearing your desk. So neat and tidy and dead with no books nor pens nor stray sketches strewn over its surface. The same way the rest of the room now seems: dreadfully dreary and dull, now that you– you with your bubbly self, shining in this damned dark school, jujutsu world– is moving away–
Oh.
Oh no.
You're moving away.
Which is... okay. Yeah, it's okay. But, but, but– "When will you come back?" The question escapes the confines of his mind into the stillness of your room, soon joined by another– one he bites his tongue and draws blood for, the second it leaves his mouth.
The tiny quaver in the words betraying the steady front he has put on very well– Until now. Until you— Too bad [or maybe, good] you've always read him rather well– so much so that you whirl round the instant the sentence flies into the foot in between, your crumpled features meeting his crumbling mask.
"You will come back, right?"
"I–" you start, eyes brimming with the same tears you wiped away so insistently then; he never hears you finish your answer, however.
Two tiny hands fling themselves round his neck, and before he can realise it, the sorcerer finds himself bent at the waist, nose nudging your temple while your face nuzzles into the crook of his neck, the collar of his jacket growing progressively wet with every passing second.
The man stops himself from returning your embrace— You were his student. He was your mentor. Your door is open. His Six Eyes sense Shoko and Utahime coming this way. He isn't meant for such empty shows of sentiment. He isn't sure if your gesture is as unfeeling as he hopes it is—
Screwing his eyes shut, he sighs. Yet offers no resistance when he feels your fingers unclasp from his shoulders then move to his hands, lifting them to keep them lightly on the small of your back.
Oh, well, whatever.
Gojo is still certain he feels nothing towards you.
Except, maybe, this steely resolve of his, engraving itself a cliff-like niche in his mind: To protect. To cherish this sweet feeling of you both in each other's grasp.
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▸ Divider by @hitobaby. Header from Pinterest. I don't own the characters used here.
▸ masterlist
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baocean · 1 year
Text
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NOT INTERESTED - JJ MAYBANK
Summary: your friends have been trying to set you and JJ up all summer, they just don’t know one tiny detail
Pairing: JJ x pogue!reader
Warnings: none
“Kie, how many times will it take to get it through your head that I’m not interested?” You groaned, turning away from her.
She followed you off the porch of the chateau. “Cmon, just think about it. You and JJ have so much in common. It would be like…like a power couple.”
“No. Not a chance.”
Kiara had been going on about you and JJ all summer, Pope, John B, and Sarah too. Trying to push JJ and you together.
They had fifty bucks that the two of you would start dating by the time school started. Someone was going to be broke.
You joined the boys and Sarah over on the dock, Kie following swiftly behind.
“So?” John B asked Kie once she sat down, out of breath.
“I got nothing, but I’m not giving up.” She said, giving you a smug look. Your friends laughed. JJ and you exchanged an annoyed expression.
“Maybe y’all should just give up. I’m not even sure y/n here likes boys.” JJ spoke, slinging his arm up and over the wood.
Your mouth fell open and you flipped him off, rolling your eyes as he laughed.
He was right though, while the other pogues were flirting with anyone and everyone, you were off with, well, JJ.
“I like boys. Just not you, JJ.”
“Oh, that explains all the guys you get.”
“Not like you’re getting any action either, pretty boy.” You gave him a wicked smile, letting him know that two could most definitely play at that game.
“Oh, I am certainly getting action.” His head tipped to the side. You grimaced.
“Gross, dude.” Pope groaned, shaking his head.
It was quiet for a minute, just you and JJ looking at each other, with your friends surrounding.
“Would you look at the time? We’ve got to go!” Sarah looked at her phone, pulling John B up with her, Kie and Pope following suite.
You rolled your eyes again, peaking over at JJ. He wasn’t even trying to hide the smirk that was painted across his face.
As your friends giggled and ran off the dock, JJ chuckled. He scooted closer to you, wrapping an arm around your shoulders.
“Now that we’re alone,” He trailed off, leaning in.
“JJ, our friends are right there.” You turned and pointed towards one of the big trees in John B’s backyard.
Sure enough, four pairs of eyes were staring back at us, disappearing once you two looked their way.
“But babe, I haven’t kissed you all day.” JJ whined. He threw his head on your shoulder in protest.
“You’re the one that came up with that stupid plan.” You told him.
JJ and you had already been dating since last summer, but it wasn’t something we planned on telling your friends anytime soon.
For half of your relationship, you two were pretty much terrified of telling your friends that you were dating, afraid of what it would do to the group. So you and JJ kept it a secret.
When you realized our friends were trying to set you up with your boyfriend at the end of the school year, your relationship turned into a game of how long could you go until your friends found out. JJ had come up with the plan.
“Baby, just one kiss. One peck, that’s it.” He tried again, leaning up to look you.
He peaked down at your lips as he smiled, knowing you were gonna give in soon enough.
You guys had pretty much lasted all summer without your friends catching on. You sort of wanted to fool them until the first day of school.
“No, J. You decided until the end of summer and then we’d tell them. Who am I to go against your plan?” You gave him a sweet, sick smile.
You suggested you tell your friends the second you found out they weren’t going to be mad. JJ had other plans.
“I’m overruling this plan. Let’s make out right now.” He pulled you into his lap in a swift second and placed his hands loosely on your legs.
“JJ-,” You laughed as he cut you off with a kiss.
JJ’s kisses were like your drug, because you couldn’t remember how long you were kissing his lips and neck before your friends ran back down the dock.
Kie got there first, screaming as the two of you pulled apart.
“I just won fifty bucks!” She yelled, throwing her hands in the air. Pope and John B shook their heads, watching Kie dance. Sarah was leaning against John B, giving you a smug look.
“I dunno, babe. Should we just pretend this is our first kiss?” JJ grinned at you as you slid off his lap. He stood up with you, standing behind you and linking his arms around your shoulders.
Kie’s smile dropped, along with her hands. “What the fuck did you just say?”
The rest of your friends looked just as confused as Kie did.
“No, nothing.” JJ played it off, placing his head on yours.
“We’ve been dating since last year.” You spoke over your boyfriend, slightly annoyed by his game playing.
It looked like Pope’s eyes were going to fall out of his head. John B and Sarah shared a confused expression.
“Huh?” Was all Kie could muster. You looked at your bestfriends, certain that your boyfriend behind you was sharing the same look you were.
“So does that mean we win the fifty bucks? It would be great for the date we have planned tomorrow night.” JJ joked.
…..
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mykinkyyandere · 1 year
Text
I See You (Chapter 1)
AO3
Pairings: Yandere/Dark! Sully Family X f!Reader
Summary: You know that after the Sully brothers found you, your life will never be the same again. A part of you want to forget about your past and start a new life with this obsessed family, but your past is not very happy about it. No matter where you run, your past hunts you down, and you are not sure if your new protective family can protect you from it.
Warnings: Only this chapter's pairings and warnings, yandere, obsession, possession, kidnapping, jealousy, overprotective, small sized/shaped reader, major (18/21) teen reader/Neteyam/Lo'ak
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The pleasant sunlight reflected through the trees danced on Lo'ak's skin. When he smiled, you thought it made him even sincerer. Of course, it could also be due to the fact that he's been trying to approach you quite gently for the last half hour. Neteyam, on the other hand, remained in the shade and his serious face failed to give you warmth. He kept watching you and warning his brother from time to time.
Lo'ak tried to get your attention by waving the leaf in his hand. You were tiny. "Hey! Look what I have."
Neteyam rolled his eyes and hit Lo'ak's hand, causing him to drop it. "Stop it."
Yes, he's got your attention like he wanted but not with that big glowing leaf, with his tall blue body. You were obviously scared, he could tell based upon that shaky little body of yours.
"Hey-" Lo'ak protested him. Then he knelt down to be the same height as you, but of course he was still too tall. You looked into his big, sharp yellow eyes as if you were hypnotized. When he held out his hand to you, you leaned even more, like it was possible, into the tree behind you and made a timid sound.
Neteyam grabbed Lo'ak by the shoulder and warned him harshly. "What are you doing?"
He shook his brother's hand off his shoulder and turned his head to him with an annoyed expression. "And what are YOU doing, besides nothing?"
"I'm trying not to scare this human girl. We must wait for dad, he knows people better than us." But he still knelt down next to Lo'ak and tried to look less threatful. People could feel under pressure just because of their height.
"See, it wouldn't be bad if you listened to me sometimes." Lo'ak withdrew his smug gaze from him and turned it to you. You haven't said any word since they found you. When you tried to escape, they easily cut off your path and cornered you. You thought they were going to hurt you, kill you. But these two proved you wrong. They kept their curious gaze hovering over you and tried to communicate with you with various strange things, mostly the younger boy called Lo'ak did. Neteyam seemed like more cautious and quite.
"I'm Lo'ak. My name is Lo'ak." Maybe it was the tenth time he said his name. He was also using his hands so that you could understand him better. "Do you understand me?" He pointed himself, "Lo'ak."
"I don't think this is working. Look at her." He pointed with his head to your scared and confused face. "I guess she doesn't understand us."
"Or she can't talk." Lo'ak took a flower that he thought was beautiful and handed it to you.
"Perhaps both. She didn't try to talk to us either." Neteyam took his hand to his thoughtful face and tried to understand. "What is she doing here alone, it's very dangerous for her."
Lo'ak smiled when you timidly took the flower he handed to you. "Simple, she's lost. But we can take her with us. She'll be safe with us."
Neteyam didn't react to the idea of taking you with them. You thought he didn't want you and you were relieved by this possibility. "There must be others around. I'm sure she's with them, but why did they bring someone like... her?" This time he pointed your poor body which was clinged to a tree. Your small size aroused their curiosity, but while Lo'ak had fun with it, Neteyam was a little more... concerned. He made it clear that he certainly did not approve. "Look how small she is! Did they send her as bait?"
"Whatever the reason is, they're probably looking for her right now. Or... they left her for dead. What do you suggest?" You didn't hesitate this time when Lo'ak gave you another flower. He didn't need to hear his brother's consent. He rather asked him to make him say the obvious answer out loud.
"Of course we're taking her with us. Why do you think I asked dad to come here?"
You couldn't hide your nervousness when he mentioned that the possibilities of releasing you were unlikely from the very beginning. You dropped the flowers Lo'ak gave you and tried to run in the opposite direction. But before you could even take a real step, Neteyam easily grabbed you from where he was kneeling and put you in your place. "Okay, you definitely understand us."
When you tried to run away again, he grabbed you, and this time he didn't free you. As though it wasn't enough that your arm was stuck in his huge hand, Lo'ak also grabbed your other arm and together they forced you to sit down. You looked at them in despair.
"I think she didn't like the idea of coming with us." Lo'ak picked up the flowers you threw on the ground and wanted to give them to you again, but you struggled in despair and started crying.
"We won't hurt you. We want to protect you. See, dangerous place!" Neteyam assured you many times that they would not harm you, but you refused to listen to him and tried to get out of their hands as if your life depended on it. Your arms were hurting, and their rock-still grip hadn't loosened even for a moment. Their bright yellow eyes didn't help either. So intense, so alarming.
"I know how you feel. You feel like an outsider, just like me." When you finally got tired and stopped struggling, Lo'ak leaned to your face and tilted his head, trying to make eye contact. There was excitement in his eyes. "You think you don't belong, but- but believe me I've never felt I belonged either. We are the same."
It was hard to understand what this boy, who looked exactly like his brother, meant. Did he just really mean that he was as different as you? You had noticed his fingers and eyebrows were different, but you didn't think it was a big deal. People were different too, what was wrong with that? Or, was there discrimination among the Na'vi? Just like stupid people make fun of and humiliate those who are different from them.
"Bro, cut the nonsense." Neteyam shook his head and gave a deep breath. "Seriously, what the hell are you saying?"
"You could never understand. But she sees me. I know it." Lo'ak said, caressing your arm. He handed you the flowers again and waited for you to move your hand. Ignoring his brother's annoyed stare, he kept looking at you and smiled. "I know you see me."
When you looked at the flowers, you forgot for a while that they wanted to take you with them, or in other words, kidnap you. You didn't want to upset this excited boy who was waiting for you to take the flowers with the joy that he was finally not alone. A momentary warmth came over your heart. But only momentary.
"She is a human, we are Na'vi. Don't make this girl a victim for your own troubles." Neteyam freed you from his brother's hand and stood up. He hid you behind him. Lo'ak didn't take it as a defeat. He immediately got up and hissed at him. Neteyam didn't seem to be affected by this. When Lo'ak tried to hold you, he pushed him and hissed back in response.
"Just because you're the perfect little son, you think you have the right to claim her, don't you?" Lo'ak shouted, making you cling Neteyam's leg.
"You don't know what you're talking about. I'm responsible for this human girl now, just like I'm responsible for you. Listen to reason." He said calmly, as far as possible. He patted your head to soothe you. You were so overwhelmed by this arguing.
"What? You have everything I always long and you receive everything I always deserve. I won't let you to have her, too!" He came closer to take you but Neteyam put his forefinger up and pointed at his face. "Back off."
The tension between the two caused a strange silence. Lo'ak didn't back off and Neteyam didn't put his finger down. Nature also became silent, as if she felt this tension. You wondered if these two fiery brothers were going to fight. Maybe you could had the opportunity to run, but of course you were unlucky.
"What's going on here? Lo'ak?" Great, another nervous blue man. He was much, much taller and built. 'Their father', you thought. He looked directly at you. Your clinged form around Neteyam's leg made him smile. So it was you, the tiny, scared, helpless human girl his son was talking about. He probably wasn't prejudiced against you, since Neteyam said his father understands 'human' better. You saw his stern stare soften when he saw you. It was hard to guess how much he liked you. Because there was also a woman with him. A rather creepy Na'vi with a sharp and questioning gaze. You felt she wasn't pleased at all with your presence, and this made you cling even more tightly to the leg of the blue boy.
"I didn't do anything." Lo'ak muttered, bowing his head. It made him angry that their fight, which hadn't yet begun, had ended this way. "I wanted to give comfort to this girl."
"Sir, I overreacted to protect the girl. It's all my fault."
"Quiet!"
You jumped with the woman's sudden voice and gasped with fear. She came forward and approached you. There were different glints in her eyes. Hatred, fear, suspicion...
When Neteyam tried to separate you from his leg, you didn't want to leave. You felt like this woman's wild gaze was going to kill you right there. Unfortunately, Neteyam whispered that there was nothing to worry about and separated you from himself. You thought she was going to choke you. Maybe that's what she wanted, too. You didn't even realize that Neteyam, Lo'ak and their father were waiting to save you in case of a possible situation. Obviously, nature was also waiting. For some reason, she wanted you to live. Tiny creatures flew on you, flowers and wind almost danced around you, and even sounds that only Na'vi could hear were around. She closed her eyes and listened. She seemed peaceful, relaxed. Eywa said you were belong.
The mother bent down, opening one leg to the side, and fixed her curious eyes on your face. She was very close, and very tall. But she didn't look like she wanted to hurt you anymore. Her gaze turned to amazement, clearly she felt emotions that you couldn't make sense of. "You, come with us."
The woman straightened up without waiting for an answer or objection and walked from the direction she had come.
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holdmytesseract · 10 days
Text
A Stroke Of Fate
☆ The Baby Fever AU ☆
Loki x Y/N
Summary: Life isn't always sunshine and rainbows. You and Loki learn that in a very hard way. A path you are forced to walk on, which puts your love, relationship and even marriage to the test.
Warnings: 18+! MAJOR TRIGGER WARNING! PROCEED WITH CAUTION! Angst, grief, sadness, loss, fights, mentions of injuries, pregnancy/pregnancy loss! trauma, misunderstandings, inappropriate touching - no rape, but it goes in that direction, violence? fluff! tiny bit of suggestive smut - blink and you'll miss it. Tell me if I missed something!
Word Count: 6k
a/n: This is most likely the saddest thing I have ever written - and it hurt me to the very core to do this to Y/N and Loki, but I had to. The idea was in my head for a long time. I fully blame 'Stay' by Rihanna and Mikky Echo.
Also, this isn't just another Baby Fever fic... This takes their story into a new direction - kind of...
Baby Fever Masterlist °☆• Loki Masterlist °☆• Masterlist
divider by @fictive-sl0th <3
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Loki’s eyes widened in realisation; jaw slacking. He wasn't able to move a single muscle. All he could do was stare. Stare at the tiny, seemingly plain object laying inside his big palms.
Millions of thoughts ran through his head at lightning speed. The god's heart pounded violently against his ribcage. He tried to focus, but he couldn't. Too overwhelmed by the various emotions coursing through his veins.
But at last, he felt how the happiness finally took the upper hand and overweighed everything.
Tears started to pool in his oceanic blues; clouding his vision. And with the first tears falling from the corner of his eyes, Loki sunk to his knees on the bathroom floor; clutching the small object tightly against his chest; crying.
All he wanted was to get a towel from the little cabinet underneath the sink to clean up the mess two-year-old baby Narfi had made with his sippy cup - and now he was holding the future in his hands. Literally.
Loki had anticipated a lot... But certainly not to find a positive pregnancy test. Obviously, your pregnancy test; hidden in between the towels.
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"Rogers!" Loki called after Cap, before he could step inside the elevator. The blond man's eyes lifted and landed on the god, who was literally jogging down the long hallway, with little Narfi on his arm.
"Have... Have you seen my wife?" He asked; tears still pricking his eyes. Steve raised an eyebrow and thoroughly scanned the prince's features. "Is everything alright, Laufeyson?" Loki nodded quickly; causing his raven locks to gently bounce against his shoulders. "More than alright, Rogers. Now have you seen my wife?" "Um, yes, I- I think she's in the training room, testing her new combat suit. At least that's what Y/N said earlier when we-" Loki slapped Steve's shoulder; interrupted him. "Thank you, Rogers." The god smiled at Steve and rushed past him; quickly pressing the button on the elevator.
Before the soldier could react, the metallic doors shut close in front of him.
Loki could barely contain his excitement. Something the little man on his arm noticed as well...
Narfi looked at his father with big ruby eyes. Sure, he didn't understand the situation, but the boy also didn't have to yet. He was still so young. Lifting a little blue hand, Narfi touched his father's cheek; feeling a tear against his tiny fingers. "Daddy?"
Loki smiled at his son. He adjusted the two-year-old on his arm and turned his head; kissing his palm and blew a raspberry against the skin - which caused Narfi to giggle and Loki to smile even wider. "Let's go, see mommy, yes?" He run his free hand through Narfi's short black curls; still fighting the tears. "See mama?" The god nodded; chuckling. "Yes, little man."
With a ding arrived the elevator on the 5th floor and the doors slid open. Loki stepped out and let Narfi stand on his own small two feet. Then the god squatted down and quickly fixed the boy's jumper. Today he wore the beige one with the dinosaurs on it - gifted to him by his uncle Scott. Narfi's forest green sweatpants needed adjustment, too, since they were still a little too big. After that was done, he stood up again and took Narfi by his hand. "Come one, buddy."
Together, they rounded the corner and entered the training room - well, rather small hall. It had everything an Avenger needed to prepare and train for missions.
Loki’s eyes immediately searched for you - and they found you quickly. You were standing on a mat; doing some stretches, launches and small jumps. Testing your new combat suit - like Steve said. If it weren't for all the Serotonin and Oxytocin coursing through his veins, he'd probably ravish you right then and there. Anyways, he was happy that no one was around...
Narfi was the one to announce your men's arrival. As soon as he saw you, he squealed out and ran as fast as his little legs carried him towards you.
"Mama!"
You immediately turned at the call of your child; seeing Narfi and Loki. You smiled and squatted down; ready to catch the boy. "Mama!" "Hey, sweetie!" You hugged him close and pressed a lingering kiss on his cheek. "Are you and daddy visiting me?" Your son nodded. "Uh.Huh." "Ohh, that's great." You ruffled his hair and stood up again to greet Loki.
"Hey, babe." You smiled and wrapped your arms around your husband's neck. "Hello, love." He placed his hands on your hips; pulling you closer. That was the moment you saw tears glistening in his eyes. He cried... You were of course immediately worried; your brows slanting. "Loki, why are you crying? What is-" He interrupted you with his lips on yours; kissing you with all the love he possessed for you.
Only Narfi's little tuck on his sweatpants was able to break the kiss. "Daddy! Narfi pway ball?" Both, yours and Loki's gaze followed Narfi's pointing. Loki chuckled; realising that the blue softball the boy always played with when he was with you or Loki laid only a few meters away from him. "Sure, buddy, go play."
Narfi ran away; giggling and started to kick the ball across the floor.
"Loki, what is it? You are crying, what's the matter?" Your husband smiled; thumbs tracing over your clothed hips. "I love your new suit." You couldn't help but smile as well, but still quite a bit confused. "Thank you, I... I thought it was time for a new one." "It fits you, my love. You look absolutely ravishing, if I might say so." You bit your lip; noticing the naughty, mischievous glint in his blue eyes. "Ahh, I see..." You giggled and pulled him into another kiss; not forgetting to cast an eye on your son now and then.
With a soft pop ended Loki the kiss - still smiling like a Cheshire cat. "But... You won't need this suit very much longer, right?" He whispered, and you could see how another tear rolled down his cheek.
And suddenly it fell like scales from your eyes. Your brain had quickly connected the dots.
You swallowed. "You... You found the-" "Pregnancy test, yes." Loki finished your sentence with a small sob. "B-But how? I thought I hid it so well..." The god chuckled; shaking his head. A tear dropped from his chin on his sweater. "Not good enough, my love. Narfi spilled water over the table with his sippy cup a-and I needed a towel, so..." You face-palmed yourself. "So you looked in the cupboard underneath the sink, of course. Silly me..." You giggled along Loki, who pulled you closer again.
"I assume you planned to surprise me. I apologise for ruining it." You shook your head; playing with the curls on the nape of his neck. "Indeed yes, but it's okay. It's been a surprise for you nevertheless..." Your husband shook his head - still in disbelief and with silent tears running down his cheeks. "I can't believe that this little joke of ours turned into reality so quick." "Well... I have been asking for it and challenged you, so..." A deep chuckle rumbled through Loki's chest. "Never challenge a half Frost Giant in spring to such things." "Yup, lesson learned," you giggled.
Your husband wrapped you up in a big hug then; holding you close, while you kissed his tears away. "No, honestly, darling... This is great," he whispered; gazing deeply into his eyes. Loki was positively radiating happiness - you could feel it. You nodded. "It is."
He kissed you once again; soft lips melting against yours.
You and Loki sat down on one of the benches then, which lined the wall beside the entrance; watching Narfi play and burn off energy. You had placed a hand on his thigh - which Loki had now wrapped up in his bigger hand.
"When did you take the test, love? And do you know how far along you are? I tried to figure it out myself, but we do way too much love making to do so." A snort, followed by a laugh slipped past your lips and you slapped his thigh. "Loki!" "What?" He asked; smiling mischievously and shrugged his shoulders. "It's the truth, is it not?" You just giggled, but nodded.
He wasn't wrong, after all.
"I took the test three days ago, but I have absolute no idea how far along I am. I'm gonna call my gynaecologist tomorrow and make an appointment." You smiled and squeezed his hand. "You could accompany me..." Loki gazed into your eyes and tuck a loose strand behind your ear. "I'd love to."
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Just a few days later, you had your appointment at your gynaecologist's. Loki accompanied you. Ella was at school and Narfi with his auntie Nat. A white lie needed to be told to your best friend, since you didn't want to shout the good news from the rooftops yet.
The pregnancy test you took didn't lie to you. You were, in fact, pregnant again. Five weeks, said your gynaecologist, so it was new, fresh and vulnerable. You and Loki decided to tell it nobody yet. Not a single soul. Not even Frigga. And it turned out to be the right decision, because what happened only three weeks later was something you never thought would happen. At least to you...
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"Are you sure you don't want to join us?" You asked Loki, while you stood in front of the mirror. The god was leaning against the wall of the bathroom behind you. He had his hair tied up into a bun and his hands buried in the pockets of his sweatpants. "No, thank you, darling. I'd rather stay here with the kids." You giggled and caught his gaze in the mirror. "Does that mean you prefer Ella's tea party over a night out?"
Loki couldn't help but smirk, "Oh, definitely." and join your laughter.
"Alright..." You started; lastly applying some perfume to complete your look. "I'll be going now." You turned to face your husband. Placing both hands on his chest, you leaned in to kiss him.
Loki nodded; pulling you closer by the belt around your waist. "Take care, alright? Please, by the love of the Norns, look after yourself and the little bean, yes?" You rubbed your palms across his pecs. "Of course, my love. I promise." You kissed him again and then left the bathroom. "And no alcohol!" You heard Loki calling after you. "I know, babe!" You giggled.
After you bid your goodbye to Ella and Narfi; giving them both a big smooch on the cheek, you met up with Nat and Jane to go out for a, well... small girl's night out.
The actual plan was to do a 'couple night's out' - but none of the boys wanted to join in and Pepper and Jane didn't have time in the end as well. Therefore it was just you, Nat and Wanda.
"No Loki?" asked Jane as you walked out of the building. "Nope... He preferred Ella's tea party." That had the three of you giggling. "Understandable," threw Nat in. "Ella's tea parties are the best."
You and the girls headed for your favourite bar; talked, danced and definitely had fun. It seemed like a perfect night. At that point, you not waisted one thought that it could turn some way somehow sour...
But it did. In the worst way possible. A harmless night, which turned into a nightmare.
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Shaky hands reached for your mobile. It was almost midnight. You had danced around this for minutes now; not conjuring enough bravery to call him. By now you've tried about a million times - failing.
So, once more you took a deep breath, squeezed your red and teary eyes shut and swallowed the lump in your throat. Your finger hovered above the green button beside your husband's contact.
I have to, I have to, I need to, I want to, you repeated within your head like a mantra, now or never - and finally tapped on the button.
His phone rang. One, two, three, four, a fifth time. You already were on the verge of hanging up when a sleep filled voice croaked out: "Darling?"
On every other day you'd have found Loki's sleepy voice drop-dead sexy... Not today.
"L-Loki?" You heard a bit of a rustling on the other end. "M here, my love, 'm here," he said huskily; "Wha' is it?" audibly trying to wake up. You swallowed hard. "I-I..." You had to cut off your own sentence, in order to hold back the tears - unsuccessfully. A small sob slipped past your quivering lips. Something the god on the other end picked up. It didn't slip his notice.
He immediately sat up and switched on the lamp above his bedside table; wide awake all of a sudden. "Y/N, what's wrong?"
"I... I am at t-the h-hospital."
Loki's eyes widened instantly in shock and fear; his heartbeat skyrocketing. "I beg your pardon; you are where?" You swallowed again; feeling the tears run down your cheeks. "The h-hospital."
Loki was already jumping out of bed.
"What?! Why?! By the Norns, what happened?! Are you hurt?!"
You wanted to scream.
"T-There was... was an incident at the b-bar and-" Loki was already slipping inside a white shirt; hastily buttoning it up and totally forgetting about his magical abilities at that moment. All he could think about was you... And his unborn child.
"I'm coming, love! I'm on my way, I-" "No," you interrupted your husband; causing him to stop dead in his movements - frowning.
"Stay w-with the kids, okay? You..." Fresh tears ran down your cheeks. "You can't leave them a-alone." "But..." Loki threw immediately in; blinded by his fear and worry about the woman he loved; about to just act headless. "Please, Loki, please," you pleaded. "Natasha is going t-to take me home. I-I just wanted to... To tell you."
Your words confused Loki. She can leave the hospital already? "B-But, love, what-" You couldn't take this anymore. You didn't have the strength to talk to him further - and you'd need all your remaining power to keep up the façade later in front of your best friend. "I'll tell you later, I p-promise," you managed to somehow choke out...
...and hung up.
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Natasha and you had returned to the Avengers compound about an hour later. Now you were standing in front of the door to your family's apartment. You were exhausted. So utterly exhausted. All your power spent on crying and pretending everything was alright. All you wanted was to break down and cry yourself to sleep - but you had to talk to your husband first...
Unlocking the door, you stepped inside the dark apartment. Mostly dark apartment. The only light source came from the living room. He was waiting for you. Of course he was waiting for you.
You could already picture it in your head. He'd walk up and down in the room; worried and afraid - like a caged and hurt animal.
You took a deep breath; gathered all your leftover strength and made your way into the living room.
Loki was indeed walking up and down the room, but currently had his back to you and a hand in his messy curls. You swallowed.
"Loki..."
The soft, almost inaudible call of his name attracted his attention. He swiftly turned around; facing you. Worry was written all over his face. Your husband's eyes widened, "Y/N!" before he literally ran over to you. His big palms landed on the sides of your upper arms and his oceanic, tear stained blues wandered up and down your body; searching for injuries. "What happened?! What is wrong?! How are you feeling?!" The god's mind was racing - already. And you'd make it worse.
Tears pooled in your eyes again, just at the mere thought of what you were going to tell him.
"At... At the bar, there was an... an incident and-" While you spoke, his palms had wandered down your arms and to your hands. He lifted them gently and wanted to kiss your knuckles, as a frown formed on his forehead. "Y/N, what..." Loki interrupted you; thumbs brushing over the bruises on your wrists. "What is this? Tell me what happened, please. Right now."
You swallowed again, nodding. "There was a-a man. He... He had his eyes on me the whole evening. I could feel it. He was watching me. Just me. Not N-Nat or Wanda. Me." You could already see how Loki's jaw tightened. Anger was taking over his system already. "At s-some point I had to go to the ladies. He... He followed me. He said that he had cast an... an eye on me and that he would like to..." You cut off your own sentence. Not that you needed to finish it. Loki knew what you were going to say. "I refused, of course. T-Tried to stay polite and leave, but... He didn't let me. He... He trapped me inside the ladies, caged me against the wall." That's where the bruises come from, Loki thought. "I fought against it - against him. He was so strong."
Loki felt like he could burst because of the anger and fear running through his veins. "Please tell me he didn't..."
You knew what he wanted to say and quickly shook your head. "N-No, I headbutted him, t-then kicked him in the balls a-and perhaps even broke his nose." A relieved breath left your husbands lips. "That's my girl."
"He fled then, but..." Loki’s face hardened again. "But what?" Deep down the god knew there must have happened something else. Unless Natasha and Wanda wouldn't have taken you to the hospital.
"He... He had slammed my head against the wall, which resulted in a small cut and-" "There's more?!" You could already hear in his voice that he was furious once more. You knew that he'd love to find that guy right now and do terrible, awful things to him.
You nodded once more. "When he grabbed me, I... I tried to fight against him a-and escape. I almost made it, but then he..." You had to swallow down the lump in your throat and suppress the tears. "He kneed me in the s-stomach to prevent me from e-escaping."
Your husband's mind was way too clouded with anger and fear. He couldn't think clearly, and therefore was unable to connect the dots. Norse curse words spluttered from his lips and his eyes darkened. Threat his family and you'll bring out the darkest side of him - you knew that.
"I'll find him, my love." "Loki." You spoke in a weak voice, trying to get through to him. "I'll find him and then I'll kill him." "Loki." "Slowly and intimately." "Loki, please." "I'll make him pay for what he did to you and-" You couldn't take it any longer. You had to tell him.
"Loki, I lost the baby."
Your sentence cut through the air like his daggers through skin. Loki's mouth clapped shut and a very unpleasant silence spread in the living room. He needed a second to process your words. You just stared at him; silent tears running down your cheeks and dripping on your blouse, as you watched Loki fall apart in front of you.
"W-What?" He croaked out; seemingly still unable to grasp this.
"I... I lost our baby."
He started to shake his head. "No, that's... It can't be. Everything was alright!" "I know," you sobbed. "But I was at the hospital... They checked. The incident caused the m-miscarriage." You stepped closer and reached for his hands. Loki blinked; tears escaping the corner of his eyes. "I-I'm sorry. I-I'm so sorry."
You wanted to hug your husband; catch him mid-falling and preferably crash on the hard ground of reality together with him - but he took a step back. "No, no, no, no..." His hands suddenly dropped yours. Without his touch, you had never felt more cold and lonely.
"Loki, what-" "This is your fault." He suddenly exclaimed; driving an invisible dagger straight through your heart. "It's your fault, Y/N and you know it. I told you! I told you to stay and not go in the first place! I told you to take it easy this early in the pregnancy!" He ran both his hands over his face and tugged frustratingly at his raven curls, while you just stood there; frozen. You didn't know what was happening.
"We almost lost Narfi, because you explicitly wanted to accompany me to that stupid charity event and now?! Now exactly that happened, of what I've always been afraid of! Of what I've always warned you! But no... You just didn't want to listen!"
You were still staring at him, mouth agape. This wasn't real, you thought. I must be dreaming.
"M-My... My fault?" You croaked out; feeling like you were going to fall apart. "Yes!" Loki hissed. "You heard what I said, did you not?!" Sure, you understood that this was equally as hard and sad as it was for you. You understood the cocktail of emotions which must be brewing inside of him, but that... That was unacceptable. You hoped he'd catch you, be there for you, grieve together with you... But certainly not that he'd blame you.
"How can you blame me for this? I didn't kick myself in the gut, did I? Besides, you could've just accompanied me! Perhaps all of this would've never happened, but no, Mr. Laufeyson didn't want to!" You felt how anger rose within you as well. It was just too much.
"Me?!" Loki hissed; pressing his pointer finger in the muscle on his chest. "Oh, I'm the one to blame now?! Sure... It's easy to blame me - for everyone! Just blame the former war criminal. Just blame the untrustworthy god. Just blame the monster from another realm - and all your problems are solved!" He laughed bitterly; shaking his head.
"That's... That's not what I meant - and you know it!" Your husband cocked his head. "Oh no? It's not? Enlighten me then, Y/N!"
You sighed. "Look... I understand your worries. I really do, but I can't just sit on the sofa 24/7 and not move a muscle, just because I'm pregnant! That's not how it works!"
Loki snorted. "Well, it should! As you can see, everything else is apparently not working!" You shook your head; stepped closer to Loki. "We... We just lost our baby... Shouldn't we... Shouldn't we grieve toge-" The god interrupted you, tears streaming down his face. "Yes, and I'm not the one to blame." With those words he brushed past you, "I will be sleeping on the sofa tonight." and left you behind; feeling more cold and lonely than you ever did in your whole life before...
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The loss of the new life growing within you and the fight you and Loki had that night caused a wide rift to appear between the two of you. It split your relationship apart. Everything else would be a lie.
You felt how he grew cold and distant. Just like you did. The once perfectly harmonic, loving and desiring bond cracked.
Sure, there had always been fights, misunderstandings and disagreements - totally normal things. But this... This was different.
...and you just didn't know how to stop your marriage from falling apart...
Whenever you tried to speak with him about the topic, he'd immediately steered the conversation into a different direction. Hence, he talked less to you in general. No deep conversations anymore, no love declarations - nothing.
The communication lacked, just like the physical touch. You'd get a kiss from time to time, yes, but nothing more. Barely cuddles, no long, intimate kisses and certainly no sex.
It hurt you. To the core - but the sad thing about it all was, that you actually hadn't a single reason to complain, because you weren't better. You gave him just as little as he gave you. It was a mutual thing - and at some point didn't go unnoticed anymore...
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"Y/N."
"Y/N, hey."
Natasha's voice urged to your ears, but didn’t reach your brain. All you did was staring ahead; totally lost in thoughts. Only when you felt her touch on your shoulder was your best friend able to get through to you.
"Babes, your glass in flowing over." You snapped your head down at her words; eyes widening. "Shit, shit, shit." You hastily turned off the tap, while Nat helped you to dry the outside of the glass, so you could wipe your hands on a kitchen towel.
"Thanks, Nat." You took the glass, "I-I've been a bit lost in thoughts." and gave her a small smile. "Yeah, I saw that," the Widow pointed out and crossed her arms over her chest, before she leaned against the bar counter across from you.
"Okay, babes... We definitely need to talk." You swallowed; frowning. "Talk? W-Why?"
Nat scoffed. "Oh, please stop that, Y/N... You can't fool me. Perhaps the others around us, but not me. Something's off. I can tell. You've been so absent-minded lately. Always in thoughts and very quiet. Your smile doesn't reach your eyes either - and..." She gave you an intense look. "... the most worrying thing... You behave differently around Loki. More distant. Colder. Less touchy." Her eyebrows furrowed. "What's wrong between you two? And no, don't tell me it has just been a small fight, because this goes already on for at least two weeks. I saw it. So, don't even try to shit me, girl."
You swallowed again. That was clearly an order. You already knew that you weren’t going to lie yourself out of this situation, but... Did you even want that? Perhaps it was good to finally get this off your chest...
So, you nodded; nervously fumbling with your hands. "You... You are right. But, please can we talk about this in private?" Her eyes widened. "It is that bad?" You took a deep breath; nodding again."I'm afraid, yes."
Natasha nodded; rubbing your upper arm in a reassuring manner. "Let's head over to mine. Bruce is in the lab."
You followed your best friend to her apartment and only five minutes later sat down on her sofa; Nat following. "He didn't cheat on you, did he? Because if this fucker did, I'm going to cut off his ba-" "He didn't," you immediately interrupted her. "Loki never would. I know that. You know that." The red-haired beauty looked you straight in the eyes. "What did he do then?"
You swallowed. Memories of that night four weeks back started to flood your brain and causing you to hold back the tears.
"Remember that night where... Where we were at that bar? You, Wanda and I? And that incident with that strange man? You, taking me to the hospital afterwards?" The spy nodded; "Of course, yes." listening to you patiently. "I told you it was about the cut on the back of my head - and that was the truth, but... There was also something else..." You had to take a deep breath.
No one besides Loki had known about the pregnancy... Until now.
"He kneed me in the stomach - which wouldn't have been that much of a problem, but in my case it was, because I..." Your best friend's eyes widened. She was smart and therefore seemingly already had connected the dots. "Are you saying what I think you're saying?" Nat's eyes dropped to your stomach, before they lifted to face you again. "Are you...? Again?"
You nodded. "Pregnant, yes. I-I was pregnant again." Those words still hurt you more than you thought. You lowered your head; feeling a few silent tears running down your cheek.
"No... You... Oh my gosh..." Natasha gasped; immediately reached for your hand. "You're telling me that this wanker caused you to have a... miscarriage?" "Yes."
"Shit, I'm so sorry, babes. Gods, that's horrible. Come here." Your best friend hugged you tightly against her chest; just letting you cry for a while.
"And... Loki?" You snivelled. "Well, that's the point... I told him afterwards. We kinda had a fight and... He blamed me, I blamed him and ever since we didn't properly talk. We are drifting more and more apart. What had happened, split our relationship. We are losing each other - and it kills me." "Why didn't you talk with him then?" You swallowed; shaking your head.
"Because I feel like the rift between us is already too big. I won't make the jump." Nat squeezed your hand. "But you gotta try, babes. You love that man, right? He's your soulmate. The love of your life. Your baby daddy." You nodded. "Yes, I... I do. With all my heart." "See? You gotta try. But remember... It takes two to tango."
Her last words roamed through your head even several hours after the conversation. Perhaps it was really both your faults... You took a deep breath. You and Loki had to save this ship from sinking - at all costs. You didn't want to lose him. Never.
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"Daddy?" Loki looked up at Ella. She was seated on the sofa backrest above him; legs dangling over his shoulders, as she was braiding several plaits into his long raven locks.
"Yes, princess?"
"You love mommy, right?"
The god's eyebrows slanted. "Of course, princess. Why are you asking?" The little girl shrugged her shoulders. "Because you and mommy don't have private time anymore."
Loki swallowed; realisation hitting him like a truck – completely out of the blue. "Well..." He cleared his throat. "Sometimes, we have little time for this, you know?" "Oh... Okay." Ella paused and Loki hoped that she'd just drop that topic know.
She did. Almost.
"Is mommy happy?" Ella dropped the next question, while small hands worked through another strand of her father's hair.
Again, Loki had to swallow - hard. "Y-Yes, I think so, why?" Yes, it was a lie. But he couldn't tell his eight-year-old daughter that you just lost her baby sibling, could he?
"But why is mommy crying so often then?"
Ella's next words hit Loki even harder. It felt like his heart was jumping over the edge of a cliff; free falling and shattering into a million pieces.
"W-What?" He croaked out; mouth falling agape.
"I see and hear mommy cry a lot."
Loki wanted to scream from the top of his lungs. You had shut him out - of course you did. After all he said why wouldn't you? You had every reason to banish him.
He blamed you; acted headless and stupid. He pushed you away when you needed him most. He fucked it up - real bad this time.
"I'm a fool..." Loki mumbled underneath his breath to himself. "I'm such a fool..."
"What did you say, daddy?" His daughter's innocent voice cut through the air once again. "Nothing, princess..." Loki answered; shaking his head. "I'm going to talk to mommy, okay?" Blue eyes looked up to meet his identical ones. "Will you make her feel better?" A breathless laugh escaped the gods lips; tears dripping down his chin. "Yes, princess... By the Norns, yes."
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Loki watched you move through the kitchen from the hallway. He had just tucked the kids in and was finally able to talk with you. The conversation was long due.
Taking a deep breath, he stepped closer; feeling his heart hammering against his chest. He was so nervous. So afraid. What if you couldn't forgive him? What if he was going to lose you?
"Y/N?" The god called out your name softly. "Yes?" Your voice was cold. Distant.
A shiver ran down his spine.
"Darling, we... We need to talk... Please."
You froze in your movement; back towards your husband.
"Why? When I tried to talk to you a few weeks ago, you blocked me." Loki swallowed hard; Adam's apple bobbing within his throat. "I-I know, but... I see clearly now." He cautiously approached you. "I am so sorry, my love. I know now that I really fucked it up. I was- am such a fool. Norns, I don't know what has gotten into me. I... I just... saw red. Blaming you for the loss of our baby is the worst thing I ever did in my whole life." Tears pooled in his eyes, as you turned to face him.
"I pushed you away when you needed me the most. I should've been there for you. I should've supported you and help you through this, but no... I did the exact opposite." Loki paused for a moment; trying desperately to control his tears.
"I know what I did is unacceptable and I can't expect you to forgive me, but..." The god felt how his knees started to buckle. The weight of the possibility that you weren’t going to forgive him or even worse... Leave him, was hitting him full force. All his strength left his body and he fell down on his knees in front of you. "I-I'm begging you for forgiveness. Please, my love, please... I beg of you. Please don't leave me. I couldn't take it, I-" The lump in his throat cut off his sentence. All he could do was cry.
You witnessed the scenes in front of you; heart shattering.
"Loki..." Your soft, almost angelic voice urged to his ears. "Loki, I... I would never, ever - not in my wildest dreams leave you. You're the best thing that ever happened to me. I never could, I... I love you."
Blue eyes looked up at you in disbelief. "W-What? You... You forgive m-me?" You nodded; feeling tears build up in your eyes as well. You couldn't help but lower your hands and cup your husband's tear stained cheeks; feeling his soft skin underneath your palm. "Of course, my love."
Loki blinked. "Why? I treated you so bad. Something I swore I'd never do and yet I did... I blamed you for... For something which was entirely my fault."
You frowned. "Your fault? Why would this be your fault?" You wiped away another tear with your thumb. "It isn't, Loki. When it's somebody's fault, it's mine. You were right. It is my fault. I should've been more careful." "No..." Loki shook his head quickly. "No, Y/N, stop that right now, please... Don't blame yourself. I should've protected you better... And the baby, I... I failed."
You feared that your heart was going to stop beating right then and there. It hurt. Seeing Loki like that destroyed you. "No, Loki..." You sobbed and sunk to the floor as well; immediately embracing him. "We both failed, but... It happened. We can't change the past. We have to live with it." You felt Loki nod against your shoulder. "I-I know."
You squeezed him tightly against your body, just like Loki frantically tried to hold on to you. Finally, you felt better again. Since weeks. You had missed the comforting touch of your husband. It was all you ever wanted and needed. Just like he did.
You almost physically felt how the rift between you got smaller and smaller with each passing minute.
You had found each other again.
Neither of you knew how much time had passed. An hour? Two? More? But it also didn't matter. Not right now, not here. You were still embracing each other; your hand gently running through his long curls. "We're going to make this, okay? Together. Like everything before." Another nod from Loki. He was overwhelmed by all the emotions running through his veins. "Yes."
And you did.
Sure, what had happened didn't fail to leave marks on both you and Loki; a deep scar carved into your heart and soul - but it also didn't fail to make your bond stronger. Even if it did not seem like it at first.
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Baby Fever Crew: @muddyorbsblr @mochie85 @asgards-princess-of-mischief @jaidenhawke @multifandom-worlds @jennyggggrrr @mishkatelwarriorgoddess @fictive-sl0th @herdetectivetheorist @hisredheadedgoddess28 @chennqingg @princess-ofthe-pages @km-ffluv @simping-for-marvel @huntedmusicgardenn @lokiforever @stupidthoughtsinwriting @loz-3 @jaguarthecat @icytrickster17 @eleniblue @yourfriendlyslytherinhc @kimanne723 @lou12346789 @mypainischronicbutmyassisiconic @smolvenger @lokisrealpurpous @isaidoop @lokisgoodgirl @aagn360 @cakesandtom @alexakeyloveloki @glitchquake @anukulee @lady-rose-moon @ainsley30 @lovingchoices14 @lokischambermaid @irishhappiness @mandywholock1980 @totsnotlynn
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dilemmaontwolegs · 8 months
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If you need ideas for the Temptation snapshots, I've got one. It's Scotty's wedding, Daniel's Kitten is a bridesmaid. She looks stunning in a curves complimenting dress. Daniel can't take his eyes off of her but she doesn't have time for him. She's running around, helping everybody with everything till Daniel decides he can't wait anymore and drags her to the bedroom for a quickie only after that they realise that they've fucked in the newlyweds bed
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Temptation Snapshot || DR3 {6}
Warnings: 18+ only, nsfw, smut WC: 1.4K F1 Masterlist Story: One || Two || Three || Four || Five || Six || Seven Snapshots: One || Two || Three || Four || Five || Six
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The Bachelor’s Party/Hen Night Vegas baby! That was the caption to the clip of Daniel arriving in Las Vegas for Scotty’s bachelor party - the two Australians 100 percent ready to unleash hell on Sin City with their close-knit group of friends. At just over 2000 kilometres away, you were boarding a private boat with Chloe in Vancouver as her hen night began far more sedately. While the next 24 hours with the bridal party was all about pampering and enjoying the beautiful views out on the water, the groomsmen were making promises to each other that what happens in Vegas stays in Vegas.
Come morning light everyone would start making their way to Venice where the big event was going down - for better or for worse. You had a feeling the boys would certainly be feeling worse.
You were utterly relaxed after a massage and a soak in the hot tub on the top deck with the girls, the stars glittering in the night sky. Chloe’s friends were an endless stream of gossip and it was hard to keep up with their exciting lives until your phone started to vibrate on your sunbed. 
“Excuse me,” you apologised as you stepped out of the warm water and saw a facetime call coming in from Danny. “Hey, I thought you would be too busy to call?”
“You should come here, kitten,” he slurred as the camera moved erratically and you heard Scotty’s laugh in the background. “Look,” he tried to pan the video around and you guessed he was somewhere on the strip from all the bright lights. “White Chapel! We could get married right now.”
You tilted your head so you could properly see what he was showing you. “You want me to come to Las Vegas and get married at a White Chapel?” you laughed with a shake of your head. “You know my dad would never forgive you if he didn’t get to give me away.”
“I just want you all to myself, as Mrs Ricciardo,” he whined as the camera turned back to his face and a chorus of whipping sounds erupted from the guys around him. “Fuck off! You’re whipped too.”
“So you admit you’re whipped,” Scotty shouted happily and the call was dropped as they started a little scuffle, more like brothers than friends.
“You have that man wrapped around your finger,” Chloe teased when you slipped back into the steaming water.
“Look who's talking,” you said with a wink and grabbed your drink, raising it up to clink it with hers. “You mastered the art first.”
“I suppose I did,” she giggled before toasting with the circle. “To our boys, and their peak golden retriever energy.”
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The Wedding Day “Behave,” you warned Daniel when he tried to corner you in the hotel’s corridor. “I’m a woman on a mission so keep your hands to yourself.”
“You know I can’t help it when my kitten gets all bossy,” he chuckled as he pinned you to the wall with his body. “No one will notice if we slip away for a few minutes.”
“Chloe would, since I’m meant to be getting her shoes.”
Reaching into his breast pocket he pulled out a tiny book similar to what you would get when you bought a raffle. Licking the pad of his thumb he started to flick through the pages before humming and ripping a tab out. “Here,” he said as he tucked it into your cleavage. “That is contractually binding too, I might add.”
You fished the paper out and opened it to see it was a comical voucher for a quickie in the nearest room. “I’m sure my lawyer would agree with you,” you joked as you straightened his lapels. “Where did you even get this?”
“I may or may not have stolen it from Scotty’s presents, but I thought it would have been a waste to go to them. I know him and it would end up in the bin before they even went on their honeymoon. So?” His eyes darted to the door beside you and he wiggled his eyebrows. “You look ridiculously sexy in that dress, kitten, and it is doing all sorts of crazy things to me.”
“Well I would hate to get in trouble with the law, since this is contractually binding…”
His smile grew and he tested the door only to growl when it didn’t open, but the next one was left unlocked. “Better make it quick, baby, I have no idea who this room belongs to.”
The spike of adrenaline made you rush to lift your dress and Daniel’s belt snapped open as he shoved his trouser halfway down his tattooed thighs before pulling you onto his lap at the edge of the bed. Your bodies joined with a harmonious moan and you relished the full feeling when you hadn’t been prepared for him, something that rarely happened.
“Fuck, you feel so good, kitten,” he moaned, his hand reaching for your hair before you grabbed it.
“This took two hours, don’t mess it up.”
“Okay, okay,” he obeyed, settling his hands on your hips and using his strength to guide you up and down his cock. You didn’t have the same issue with his hair, the short curls still left untamed, so you dragged your fingers through them as you bounced on his lap.
“You look tired,” you commented before you lost all ability to think, noticing the dark bags under his brown eyes. “Did you conquer Vegas or did Vegas conquer you?”
A smirk played on his lips and he shook his head. “Sorry, kitten, the boys all made a promise. Scouts honour.”
Your head tilted to the side as you stopped riding him. “Is that how it is now?”
“Don’t stop, baby,” he begged as you started to climb off his lap. “Wait, wait, okay.”
“What happened in Vegas, Daniel?” you asked, neither pulling away nor lowering yourself back down him.
“Nothing like you’re thinking,” he muttered.
“Daniel…”
“I may have gotten a little bit shitfaced,” he admitted and you lifted an eyebrow that made him crumble. His head dropped into your cleavage as he confessed, “I was totally off my tit drunk and so was Scotty, and we may have crashed out on the same bed.”
You slipped back down his cock until you were saddled on his lap again. “That’s not bad, why were you trying to hide it?”
“Those assholes took photos of us cuddling and crying together because we missed out girls now can you please move before I start crying again.”
It was a quick jumble of words barely more than a whisper but you caught them, just, and they caught you off guard. In a split second your head was thrown back with a laugh and you cradled him to your chest.
“Fuck me, keep laughing, kitten,” Daniel moaned. “So fucking tight when you do that.”
It drove Daniel wild and he started bucking his hips as you rode him, hitting deeper with each change in the angle until your eyes screwed shut and your heart hammered. You wanted to kiss him like your life depended on it but the makeup hadn’t been set long enough and you weren’t willing to risk smearing the masterpiece.
“I’m gonna cum, daddy,” you whimpered as heat flushed your skin and you pushed through the ache in your legs from the position. Your orgasm ripped through you like a bolt of lightning.
“Fuck, oh fuck, fuuuuck,” Daniel groaned as your cunt gripped his dick like a vice and he filled you with the thick ropes of his cum. “Shit, kitten, you’re gonna kill me with that pretty pussy of yours,” he commented as you climbed off and rearranged your dress into place.
“I think you just need more self-control,” you teased as you looked around the room and froze. There on the table was the white Jimmy Choo box you had been sent to find, next to a plate of delicate handmade chocolates and a neatly written card dedicated to the newlyweds. “Oh shit.”
Daniel looked up from his belt he had rebuckled and saw you grab the shoes from the box, his eyes taking in everything as he came to the same conclusion. “Oh shit,” he laughed, biting his knuckle as the sound grew. He looked back at the bed and quickly swiped a hand across the blankets to smooth out the indents of his ass. “That bed is getting some action today.”
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unclewaynemunson · 8 months
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He's standing in the dark, in the rain, invisible to anyone who might pass by. He feels like a shadow – and maybe he actually is. He wishes he could light a cigarette, or maybe a blunt, but the light, however small, would betray his presence right away. Not to mention that the rain would extinguish any attempt at fire immediately anyway.
He shouldn't be here. But it's not like it was a conscious decision to go. His feet merely carried him this way while his mind was still blacked out from what Wayne had just told him.
'Eddie,' his uncle had said in an almost solemn voice, 'If you're gonna be stayin' here in Hawkins with me, there's somethin' you need to know.'
That's how he found out about the secret that his uncle had kept from him for all fifteen years of his existence. Wayne had explained to him how he once made his brother – Eddie's father – a promise, and how he kept that promise even though he personally thought Eddie deserved to know the truth.
But now Clyde Munson isn't here anymore. Wayne has been looking after Eddie with all the love and devotion he has in him – and he decided that it was no longer Clyde's decision to make. It certainly wasn't the decision of the woman who once dropped Eddie on Clyde's doorstep in a desperate attempt to rid herself of the proof of what they had done nine months prior. No, Eddie was Wayne's child now, as far as Wayne was concerned. And that made it Wayne's decision. So Wayne could finally do what he had always thought to be the right thing.
Eddie can almost touch the life that could've been his. A window is the only separation between him and the life he isn't part of: a cozily lit room in a nice house in a quiet street. School books are scattered haphazardly across a kitchen table, accompanied by two steaming mugs and a plate of homemade cookies. And, of course, a mother and a child are sitting side-by-side at said kitchen table.
Eddie can see the mother's mouth form soundless words while she talks her daughter through whatever homework she needs help with. A boy comes in, takes two cookies and leaves, with the mother raising her head to tell him something just a moment before he closes the door behind him. The girl drops her head on her mother's shoulder as they continue.
Contrary to Clyde Munson and his baby, Eddie's mother never left Hawkins. Clyde kept her secret and Eddie has never known who she was. Now, thanks to Wayne, all he knows is that Karen Vasileiou became Karen Wheeler one year after she gave birth to Eddie. Another year later, a little girl was born. A girl who got the kind of life that was never meant to have room for anything messy, let alone a boy like Eddie Munson.
From the other side of the window, it's clear that the girl grew up to be nothing like Eddie, save for their matching big eyes. She has a mother, after all: a mother who helps her with her homework and bakes her cookies and gives her the comfort of a shoulder to rest her head on.
He knows it's not good for him to keep standing there, but he simply cannot stop watching. It takes until Karen sends her daughter to bed for Eddie to awaken from his trance. The rain has died down to a drizzle; he's soaked to his bones and shivering all over. And even though Wayne gives Eddie everything he possibly can, it still stings a tiny little bit that no warm house and homemade cookies will be waiting for him when he'll get home.
Update: this premise was not letting me go so you can now expect multiple follow-up parts. Read part 2 here or head to ao3 where I started cross-posting this as a multi chaptered fic :D
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shirefantasies · 2 months
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Can I request a How Many Kids They Want for the characters from The Hobbit? I’m curious to hear what you think!
Heck yeah! I already made a placeholder for it in my drafts cuz I had to let’s GOOOO! Last post pre-surgery, crazy that we’re only 3 days out 🥲
How Many Kids Do They Want? The Hobbit Edition
Balin
Certainly not a future he ever expected, but it’s not such a bad one, is it? How big his family is is a question Balin wouldn’t mind deferring to his partner, especially as he would never be the one bearing them! But probably not more than three if he was really pressed for an answer.
Dwalin
Girl dad. I said what I said. Secretly wants to settle down and adores the idea of domestic life, especially with a sweetheart of a partner who he can take care of. This transfers to his children, who Dwalin is the fiercest papa bear to! No one will touch a single hair upon his daughters’ heads. I can see him having two or three little girls, very unusual for a dwarf and a bit unexpected to him, who would have said he wanted sons. The moment he has to pull a knife out of his little girl’s hand, though, the very same one that held a doll on the other side, Dwalin realizes what he wants has nothing to do with boys. Raises the toughest girls this side of the mountains!
Thorin
Does not mind the idea of a small family, more time and love to give each member as king. Thorin is fiercely loyal and dedicated, so he wants to shower his partner and child(ren) with as much as he possibly can. Thus he would prefer only one or two children. While he hopes for a son to continue on the line of Durin, growing up with a sister gave him a soft spot and respect for femininity, too. A boy and a girl sounds perfect to him, Thorin’s little prince and princess. He would have such a hard time not softening his harsh ways and one hundred percent spoiling them, but the last thing he wants is to raise spoiled royalty with no humility!
Oin
Oin is so the type of father to have a big family and brag about them all the time! Five or six children. He’s the default carer when they get sick, being so good at treating any ailment or pain that they run to him upon feeling any sort of ill. Not picky about if he has boys or girls, ending up with two girls and three or four boys. All of them are welcome to become his apprentices and several even grew up playing ‘doctor’ for years beforehand! Literally Oin could be handling someone halfway to bleeding out and he’s still standing there staunching it saying how he has the best kids ever.
Gloin
The proudest father and family man in general! Cannot wait to have a family of his own and absolutely wants a son to be his mini-me. Has a special bond with his son as we all know. Gloin is happy to even have one child, but could be persuaded to go up to two or three. Would raise the toughest, shrewdest daughter as he shows her the ropes of getting out of uncomfortable situations and having the confidence to stand up for whatever she wants!
Bifur
A family is a future he never grew up expecting being a manual laborer and warrior. Parts of him weren’t even sure how long he’d live unless he got tough, which of course he did! One son sounds good to him, someone to pass on stories of battle and his ancestors to and shape as a fighter, though he also hopes if he has a family they would not be so forced to see war.
Bofur
Envies his brother’s family a bit, not that he wants quite so many! Bofur would be happy with two or three or four. He loves the idea of having a little girl, especially if she’s a tiny version of his partner, he would just melt at the sight of her. Total, though, he’s down for three or four, multiple but still small enough to feel cozy! Absolutely the type of father who lets his daughter dance with her feet on his and teases the kids whenever he can! Makes little hats for his sons so they can match.
Bombur
Going by the fanon/actor canon here as always, a lot. He’s so good with wee ones and just adores them, so he is down for as many as he’ll be allowed, even up to thirteen or fourteen! Because of this, he naturally wants several of both boys and girls, especially because girls are rarer among his people. So playful with them and a master of getting down to their level as a naturally lighthearted and whimsical person. He loves when the little ones help him cook or bake even if it gets messy!
Dori
The most caring father ever, forever doting on his children and making them feel loved, even if it’s a little much! His perfect number is two, one of each if he’s lucky but he’d be happy with two of the same, too. Dori grew up caring for both of his brothers for enough years, after all, but he also has the sneaking suspicion that with dwarven culture, his love for the finer things would be more likely passed on to daughters! Likes the idea of teaching skills like sewing or jewelry-making to whoever his offspring are.
Nori
Kind of suspects if he had a child, it might not be legitimate, but in the end he takes the plunge of settling down, feeling the urge as he ages to keep his bloodline on. One or two is enough for him, though, sons if he can help it, which being a dwarf he practically can! Realizes carrying a wee bairn around has a charm that lets him get away with even more than usual, and as they age teaches his little boys how to play games and even to cheat a little.
Ori
Softer, more caring than his middle brother, someone who fantasized about having a family if someone would have him. His vision is of four children, two of each. So patient with all the buzzing questions and curiosities of their young minds. All of them, boys or girls, will have the most enriching environments full of art and writing, being raised with culture over getting taught to fight. Since self-expression is encouraged, though, you can bet it’s a loud home!
Fili
Even beyond the weight of cultural expectations, Fili wants to experience being a father. Doesn’t have as strong a desire for a son as most kings and princes do, honoring his mother and what a great queen she would make. In fact, he loves the idea of raising a future queen more than king in some ways. She would be strong, resilient, free to be herself and not fall to the shadows beneath anyone if Fili has his way. He definitely wants more than one, though, and in fact ends up with twins, too! Identical twin sons he encourages both to train and explore as well as to mess with everyone by lying about which twin they are.
Kili
This dwarf loves his mother and is just dying to show his children the love he got and respect his partner especially if she’s the mother of his children! The idea of a family makes him happy like nothing else, for despite all his flirting and seeming like he wants to have fun he really wants to settle down with the love of his life. He wants at least one of each, loving different things about having a son and daughter. The kind of father who would play dress-up with his daughter and spar with her just as much as his son! All in all, he’s pretty open on numbers, but he wants at least two and the ideal range in his mind is around three to five.
Bilbo
Didn’t think he wanted children for a long time, but Bilbo is definitely the sort to change his mind if he meets the right person. Still would prefer a smaller family of one or two children, though, as more would be overwhelming to him and he wants to keep his home in order! Boy or girl, his kids would learn so many skills ranging from folding handkerchiefs to cartography. No strong preference from Bilbo on what he wants, per se, he more just hopes to have things in common with them and be able to bond.
Thranduil
Torn between his desire for an heir and not exactly paternal ways, Thranduil really only wants one child. All his attention can be focused that way, too, because at his heart he does know that duty makes it hard to be as involved as he could be with family and it would not be fair to have a massive family he can’t spend time with. Likes the idea of a son, again considering an heir, but a little girl would have the woodland king absolutely wrapped around her finger and get every pretty little thing she wants.
Bard
Pretty obvious on this one, but he would want three! Not so picky on having sons or daughters, especially when his legacy already has pressure upon it. In truth he’s the sort who wants ‘the full experience’ and says he’d want to try for one of each. Teaches all of his little family valuable skills, wishing them the best chance in life. They’ll learn to heal, defend themselves even if it’s not fighting, simply keeping safe.
Beorn
Intimidated as he is by the prospect of having children in a world that was so cruel to his people, his papa bear instincts run deep through his veins. I can see him having twins or even triplets, like a little litter all his own. I see triplets, two boys and a girl. Beorn cannot help the way his often harsh expression softens at his little ones, the hopeful smile that creeps onto his face at the thought of continuing the Skin Changers’ legacy through his sons and daughters, his name-bearers and the one who will choose her own.
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jade-green-butterfly · 6 months
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Just watched Trolls Band Together...ABSOLUTELY LOVED IT!!😍😍😍(SPOILERS AHEAD, READ AT YOUR OWN RISK!!)
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Oooh, my Harmonia...just got back from watching Trolls Band Together and my GOODNESS!!🤩✨🤩✨🤩Words cannot describe how amazed and engrossed I was into the whole movie!!💖💖💖Was it worth the seven month wait?😗TOTALLY!!😍😍😍It was absolutely fantastic, and I LOVED and enjoyed every single moment of it!!🥰
I was really getting into scenes, got quite a few laughs out of some scenes and was touched the wholesome ones~💕Branch's brothers were just as enjoyable on screen - John Dory still being my fave as he grew throughout the movie (LOVE Rhonda too!😁) Spruce/Bruce is such a lovable family man, Clay was (serious)ly awesome in his scenes and the tender moments between Floyd and Branch really got me...especially with the flashbacks...🥲 It was so great to see Grandma Rosiepuff again, though I do wish there was more feeling shown when her death was mentioned, hopefully the brothers will come to terms with it more in time...and Branch's bunker plan for them all, d'awww...~🥺So he DID build the bunker for all his family...😭 Viva was such an amazing character as well as she adorably bonded with Poppy (ooh, dear King Peppy, I know you were heartbroken at the time but c'mon...😅) and finally braved out of her comfort zone, and Tiny Diamond going through his big boy phase was real cute and funny😂Bridget and King Gristle were great too, it was lovely seeing them again along with the Bergens!😊 I had a feeling Velvet and Veneer were luring BroZone to them, they were such good villains with their goals and personalities but I am glad Floyd got through to Veneer in the end, and he saw the wrong he and his sister were doing, and came clean to everyone. And Crimp was a cutie and deserves better🫂(glad she got a hug from Poppy and stood up to Velvet and Veneer in the end😌) And it was also great to see some of the Snack Pack again too, including Prince D and especially my darling Cooper too, eeeee~!😍💗💗💗He looked so dapper!💝🥰 Speaking of Poppy, she was just as darling as ever~!😚I seriously LOVED her relationship and her undying love for Branch blossom so much here whilst supporting and fangirling for him all the way as they interacted, bless her~😊And that sweet BROPPY KISS!!🤭...🤩I was going 'YES!! FINALLY!!' under my breath, grinning from ear to ear in that moment~💙💖And that moment when I thought he was gonna pop the question during the performance during the end...hehe, maybe another time~😉But I certainly didn't expect *NSYNC to show up in their trollsonas near the end...what a twist!😮
The chase scene and perfect family harmony scene were truly epic and it really shows, it doesn't have to be perfect as long as we're altogether~💞💓All the locations of the brothers were stunning to look at, with Vacay Island and Spruce/Bruce's family, the creepy abandoned Bergen golf course with the Putt-Putt Trolls, and finally Mount Rageous - a whole lot of wonder to take in!💖Walt Dohrn, Gina Shay and the DreamWorks Animation Crew did such an fantastic job on everything!✨🌟✨And that huge BroZone hug...again, d'aaaaww~!😭
As for the songs...I'll be downloading the rest of the album now because they were all wonderful to listen to!🎧🎶Real boyband and 90's nostalgia~✨I know they're gonna be stick in my head for a long time, hehe!😆I have so many faves, especially all versions of 'Better Place'~😚
A greatly HUGE thank-you in a million to everyone Trolls for such a fantastic movie, which I wonderfully enjoyed all the way through, from start to finish!🌟👏👏👏🌟AAAHH!!💓💗💓I JUST LOVED IT ALL!! 😍🤩😍I give it a solid 9.5 out of 10!!😊👍✨Totally made my weekend~!🫶🥰
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leonw4nter · 3 months
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Don't Go To Sleep, Don't Rest Your Head
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Dad!RE6!Leon x F!Reader
This is a sequel to Holding Our Dreams As You Lie To Rest. Use of D/N for Daughter's Name.
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Oh, how tiny his beloved daughter was; when all 7 pounds of her could fit snugly in the nook of his arm; when she could still sit on his broad shoulders and feel the sky beneath her tiny fingers, the only weight he proudly bore on shoulders that usually held humanity’s suffering; when she would be carried home in his arms whenever she grew tired from walking. He missed being able to hold the world in his arms, push her stroller, and help her with the laces of her shoes but she’s a big girl now, ready to take on life outside of the comforts of her home, beyond her father’s reach.
“Honey, call me if you need anything okay?” Leon repeats for the nth time that day, arms crossed as he looks over her things again.
“Yes dad, I will. Don’t worry, I’ll be fine.” she reiterates. Her smile boasts confidence, sure of herself that she can do this away from her comfort zone.
Leon’s heart squeezes a bit, the transition from “daddy” to simply “dad” making him feel a bit more sentimental though he swears it’s just him missing his little miracle before she’s even really left.
“Remember: no boys and no excessive drinking. Got it?” he sternly adds as he gently strokes her hair. Hair that reminded him of her mother in every way possible.
“Yes, dad. No boys and no drinking–”
“And no caving in to reckless behavior. Also, careful with sororities; they can do more harm than good. Find friends who are up to the standards you set for yourself,” Leon adds.
His daughter groans slightly before nodding, promising she won’t do any of the things Leon doesn’t want her to do.
“Dad, I won’t do anything you don’t want me to do, okay? I’ll be fine. Besides, I’m grown now. I’m perfectly capable of making sound decisions, I’m not a little girl anymore.”
“Nonsense, you’ll always be my little girl no matter what,” Leon retorts with a teasing grin as he practically fights the tears threatening to spill from his waterline, bringing her in for one last papa bear hug before sending her off to college. Though she won’t admit it, she knew that deep down she’ll always be his little girl; he would always be there for her– for every victory and for every frustration. Just yesterday Leon was guiding her hand in writing her name for the first time; life is certainly a fickle little thing.
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Not less than a few months later, Leon and his team are deployed for a mission. Leon’s faced plenty of outbreaks, always expecting the same outcome: mass casualty and the loss of members on his team but this mission unsettles him the most; the outbreak parameter encompasses where his daughter studies and currently lives in and judging from the intel provided by his superiors and news outlets, things are looking very grim for the inhabitants of that city. He’s tried phoning her multiple times and her signs of activity are short bursts, her responses being quick and short; many times she’s messaged that a call wouldn’t be safe because there’s “creatures” that react to even the faintest sound. The first time she sent that message, Leon immediately got up to pack his things and head to the headquarters to deploy himself into that mission, breaking his daughter’s rule on not letting him go on far missions. He swore to her mother that he would not let anything get to their daughter and he is bent on keeping this promise up, at the cost of his own life if this is how the situation plays out. Finally, their choppers arrive at the area and once again, everything is reminiscent of Raccoon City and Tall Oaks; cars littering the streets, burning fires scattered on the damp road, closed shops, and bloodied roads. Not a single noise can be heard and not a single sign of life can be detected; it doesn’t take dying to see Hell when you are standing right in the middle of the decay of a city, once bustling with life. Leon recognizes the place, spotting a signage with chipping paint nearby, displaying all the top locations in that city like malls, zoos, hospitals, and colleges. “Fuck, I’m only 15 minutes away from D/N.” he thinks. He contemplates moving to where her dorm is but he knows she’s smarter than that; she’s moved somewhere safer. He taught her after all, she learned from one of the best agents in the D.S.O. Mumbling a quick prayer, he reaches into his phone and tries to contact her number and prays that her ringtone doesn’t go off mid-escape. After waiting for a few minutes, she doesn’t pick up. Once more, his worry grows as he notices that she was last active 2 days ago. Their team is given instruction to start moving so they move, keeping their footfalls light and as muted as possible to avoid drawing attention to them.
Night fell and the sun rose, a warm glow cast over the shell of a city’s former glory. All night, Leon and his partner had walked around the place but not seeing any survivors, only more of the infected. Though they had wandered around the city almost all night long, there was a spot that they hadn’t gone to yet. Walking over to an abandoned apartment complex, Leon hears faint taps against a wall. The taps were rhythmic, an intentional beat created with each tap; soon, a hoarse voice calling for help could be heard, his heart lodging itself in his throat. Him and his partner split up, inspecting different floors before meeting up once again. He climbs the stairs, his heart feeling more like a ticking time bomb than an actual organ. He inspects each room, a keen eye not missing a single detail until he reaches an empty apartment with doors broken down.
“Dad!” He hears her, he hears his girl. His feet take him where he hears her voice, nothing else in the world mattering besides coming to her rescue and getting her out of that hellhole. He finally sees her and pulls her in for a hug, a hand coming up to cradle the back of her head as he presses kisses to the crown of her head. A part of him feels relieved to have found her still breathing but another part of him feels like a failure for exposing her to the world’s ugly side, a side he never dreamt of ever showing to her.
“Honey, a-are you alright?” he worriedly asks as he scans her up and down. Her clothes are torn and there's a bloody spot somewhere in her knee then he sees it: a fresh bite.
“D/N, we have to move now. There’s a vaccine that’s on trials right now and so far it’s doing good on tests so I’m going to have you vaccinated, okay? We’ll get out alive, you’ll be fine. Keep that bite covered for me, sweetie.”
He presses one more kiss against her forehead, not missing how cold she’s gotten and almost all color from her face disappearing. She looks at him through glossy eyes, nodding before wrapping her arm around his neck as he helps her out of the spot.
“I’ve located my daughter. She’s a survivor, send medical help.” he radioes.
“I’ve got you, sweetie. Stay strong, we got this right?” he softly asks with a weak grin.
“Y-yeah. W-we… do…” she mumbles, her response almost coming out in a whisper.
She doesn’t have much time left before the infection progresses; her temperature is dropping fast, her eyes are turning pinker with each moment, and her pulse is absolutely speeding so he does his best to urge her to hurry. Finally, they’re out of the building and near the extraction point.
He turns to face D/N to tell her that they’re almost there but is instead met with a low groan. A groan similar to that of the infected. One look at the greenish tinge to her skin is enough to tell him about his daughter’s current situation. D/N lifts her head up, cloudy irises zeroing in on Leon’s neck as the smell of death emanates from her bloodied mouth.
“D/N, please, hold on just a little longer– we’re almost there–” Leon persuaded her. He looked into her eyes again and saw a tiny flicker of his little girl flash on irises that grew even cloudier with each moment– scared and confused. She’s holding on, for his and her sake. She’s hanging by a thin thread but she knows she has her dad to pull her back up and deliver her from this hell; he’ll always protect her. Leon is not a man to break promises.
Despite being a few steps away from the extraction point, there isn’t a chopper or armored car in sight. D/N emits another low groan, this time much louder than earlier. With each movement of her mouth, he can hear the audible clicking of her jaw. She pulls away from him hastily, keeping her head away from his vision so he wouldn’t see the state of utter decay and decomposition her face is morphing into. The face, where her dearly departed mother lived through, is now morphing into a mass of bloody growths and putrid boils; it’s as if she’s defacing the face who carried her for a long nine months, a mockery of the love her father and mother shared. She felt immense guilt for failing to keep herself safe, putting her father into a state of more turmoil but she can’t stop it; no longer can she continue to keep the urge to dive in to a nice, warm neck at bay. Before she can get a chance to hold herself back and try to grapple with her humanity, a switch is turned. Gone is the sweet, loving, and saintly girl there was days ago.
“D/N? D/N, listen to me. Listen to my voice–” Leon says but his words are cut off when she pounces at him, teeth bared to try and yank out his innards.
Tears spill from his face, blurring his vision. How cruel must fate be that out of all the possibilities his little girl could make her exit from this world, this undignified death is what is set for her. His gun is right by his side and with a simple pull of a trigger, another infected is gone but this is not another infected, she’s his daughter. She’s his flesh and blood, the personification of two souls who loved in one. She is the parting gift of his Y/N, the maker of all his dreams. He can’t bring himself to take her out, though it’s the most merciful thing he can give her rather than have her linger for long in this form. He manages to push her away, sending her stumbling back. He reaches for his gun and keeps his finger trained on the trigger but he doesn’t pull; he can’t and doesn’t want to.
“Y/N, I’m so sorry.” is all he can say.
He knows that her mother is probably missing her, only having seen her grow from her place above and never actually having the chance to embrace her yet he couldn't help but grow a little selfish. Was it wrong for him to want her to stay alive? Was it wrong for him to have more time with the last thing keeping him going?
“I know you want to see our daughter but must you see her this soon? I want her around for just a little longer, honey. Can’t you do that? Can I be selfish for a bit?”, he silently pleads to her.
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“This letter for my precious flower D/N from her dear dad (and mom). Only read when moving out of our home to start your life away from me :) To my dear daughter, you were anticipated and cherished before we even saw you on a monitor. Ever since I held and raised you, these sensations only seemed to have grown a thousandfold. You are my precious D/N and before you grow before my eyes (as well as your mom in heaven), there’s things I want you to know: I love your mother very much. I am not a very prayerful man but I sincerely pray with all that I have that you will find someone who will treat you the way I treated you and your mother. It won’t matter if me and whoever you will love don’t get along in terms of interests but as long as they look at you with the twinkle of love in their eyes even when you’re doing something weird, I find comfort that I can entrust your heart to them. You never have to be alone and although there’s going to be times where I won’t get this “being a dad” thing right, I’m always doing my best for you.”
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D/N lunges towards him again and narrowly avoids her, moving out of her way as his mind grapples with one idea that seems most desirable in that moment.. D/N advances towards his direction again but he doesn’t move, craning his neck to expose more skin, in order to get a better bite. He shuts his eyes, sadly chuckling to himself. A family reunion doesn’t sound so bad. Somewhere nice, somewhere warm…
A rancid whiff of decay hits his nostril sharply, causing him to gag slightly but he keeps his neck still free for her to feast on. She bellows an ear-splitting screech but a gunshot follows after that. D/N’s zombified body falls limp against Leon but she’s still moving, shrieking. He sees his partner with his gun trained on his daughter’s head, the first shot of his being on her leg.
“This is my little girl! Don’t shoot! Don’t–”
A shot rings through the air, a ringing that will haunt him for the rest of his cursed life.
D/N finally falls limp, blood staining his gear as she lays motionless against his body. He sinks down, cradling her in his arms as he rocks her back and forth. Her body is curled up against him, just like when she was but a tiny baby. To Leon, she still is. Always was.
“My baby,” he mutters as he lets choked sobs free. He cries the hardest he’s ever done; he cries for himself, his daughter, his wife, his broken promises, for all the parents that have seen their child die in their arms. For the life his daughter never got to fully live out.
“My little D/N. Daddy’s here, daddy’s got you. It’s okay. You’re okay. You’re safe now. You can rest my beautiful angel.”
─────────────────────────────────────────────────────
“You’re going to see a whole lot of interesting places and by now, you’ve figured that you and I are tiny things in a grand scheme of things; life is interesting not because of the comforts but because of the challenges, the experiences you get from these things. I’ve always hated being away from your mother when she was still pregnant with you but when I was out there, I thought about her and the beautiful little girl she’s carrying in her belly and suddenly I had a reason to live, to keep fighting. I had to do what I did so that the future you live in will be peaceful; you won’t have to be afraid of monsters under your bed or monsters in your closet. Know that even when you’re a big girl, it’s still okay to cry and it’s definitely okay to ask for help. Don’t push your emotions away and feel them; don’t resort to alcohol, trust me– you’re going to harm yourself and the people who care about you. Indulge in some fun, it won’t hurt to be happy but don’t indulge too much– too much of something is bad (just as too little of something).
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9 years ago.
D/N’s team was losing by 5 points, her team rattled and tense from all the pressure dawning in on them. It was kind of funny, seeing all these nine-year-olds faces go from smiles and giggles to knitted eyebrows and deep frowns. Everyone’s uniforms were dirty, dark soil staining every kid’s formerly white knee-socks, much to the dismay of some mothers on the benches tasked with laundry in their respective homes– not that Leon cared, he can always get his sweet daughter a new pair; all that matters is that she isn’t afraid to get a little sweaty and play rough.
By now, every parent invested in this game is standing up with their hands on their hips and heads tilted towards the scoreboard. The air feels electric, cheering and chanting from both sides growing louder with each passing moment. Then, a kid from the opposing team hits a home run and scores for her team which triggers the parents of the opposing team to express their joy at the success. D/N doesn’t look too disappointed but she doesn’t look too happy either, just very tired. Her eyes scan the crowd, looking for her dad. Chris had to send her to the game since Leon was still on a mission earlier on that day but luckily, he managed to get it done fast and zipped for the stadium. Finally she spots him, her dad waving at her from the benches and quickly making his way down the stairs and towards her with his arms opened wide.
“Daddy!” she beams. “You’re here!”
She drops her glove and rushes to him, her own little arms opened. He catches up to her, bending down to scoop her into a bone-crushingly, breath-stealing hug. Mud and bits of grass will probably stick on his navy blue polo, the mud drying up and causing a stubborn stain but he could not careless; what’s there to worry about when D/N is all smiles and pure happiness?
“Yeah, I’m here honey. I can’t miss your big game, just couldn’t do it,” he responds while still hugging her. He pulls away before taking out a towel from a bag he brought, wiping her sweaty forehead. Flyaways are everywhere in her braided hair, other smaller strands sticking to her forehead; some dust is also sticking to her flushed face but she looks ecstatic nevertheless.
“Daddy I lost!” she exclaims. Not a single trace of defeat is on her face– she doesn’t even look the least bit exhausted from all that running and catching.
“It’s okay, sweetpea. It’s alright, we’re all still very proud of you,” the “we” in question being her uncles, aunts, Leon, and Y/N.
“You did great out there, champ! You were absolutely speeding back there, you looked really cool!” he comments as he throws her two thumbs up. D/N’s eyes sparkle, chest puffing with confidence upon hearing from Leon about how well she performed in that game.
“Thanks, dad! But I’m really tired, my legs feel like jelly. Ice cream?” she suggests as she throws him the most soft-looking, puppy-dog eyes she can muster. The thing is, she didn’t need to do puppy eyes when he already planned to take her out for some celebratory sweets.
“Of course! Anything for my pro baseball player,” he responds. Standing back up, he puts the towel back in his bag and puts some alcohol in her hands. Taking her tinier ones in his, they make their way out of the field and into the car, where she’ll enjoy her sweet treat.
The loss of her team doesn’t matter when to Leon’s eyes, she will always be his big winner.
─────────────────────────────────────────────────────
“My hands are getting a little sore (sorry honey, I’m not the biggest fan of writing) and I’m running out of the most flowery words to say but basically, the main takeaways of this entire letter are simple: I love you, I’d do anything for you, and that I wish you would choose me to be your dad in every universe. In every twisted reality, in the next life and the lives after those, you would give me the highest honor of having you call me ‘dad’. Well, if I’m not going to be your dad then I guess the most I can contribute for you is that hopefully, you will have the most patient, kind, and understanding dad ever. He’ll be able to provide for you and your mother’s needs and will be willing to let down his life for the two of you, at any cost. Don’t worry though, I might watch over you as a tiny little firefly. That’s all and don’t you ever, ever, ever forget that you always have me and your mother and you’re always welcome home. All my love, your dad (and mom).”
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NOTE - I finally finished this after 2 days of working!!!!!! It ended up a little longer than I intended it to so I'm a lil sorry for that... I'm not sure if you guys prefer medium-length fics to longer fics so just feel free to put your preferences in the comments :) Also this is my first RE6!Leon fic so yeah there's that!!!!!!! Gallagher from HSR kinda badd... like... he kinda hot... I don't play HSR but bro he looks so hot, they better make this man 46 like PLEASE. Anyways, that's it and thanks for reading my fics!!!!!! I <333 YOUUU
The chain dividers are from @cafekitsune , the images are made by me (sourced from Pinterest).
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curi0us-gh0st · 5 months
Note
Hi! May I please request dating headcanons (sfw and nsfw) for Choi Mujin and Gangjae (separately) with a female reader who is not in a gang but works as a office worker? Thank you ❤️
Love in the Office (Choi Mujin x Do Gangjae)
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pairings: Choi Mujin x Fem!Reader!Secretary, Do Gangjae x Fem!Reader!Secretary
word count: 0.8k
genre: fluffy, smut
warnings: voyeurism, fuck in anger, protuberance, blowjob (let me know if something went unnoticed)
a/n: I know it took me a while, so I was without internet and had some delays, I'm writing the other requests, sorry for the delay!
Choi Mujin
★ When you walked into the office to be his secretary, you didn't know that he was a mobster who had been wanted for years, that's for sure.
★ You were so polite and kind to everyone in the company that some even felt bad about you working for them in such a violent industry.
★ Mujin was proud of how you decorated his favorite cafe, how he liked things and organized his appointment schedule.
★ He also felt a little jealous seeing some of your boys asking you out or singing you, of course, in those tight skirts you wore exposing your legs so wonderful and your blouses tight or almost transparent that there was no drool on your breasts.
★ When one day, after a fight, he arrived furious, hurt and frustrated, opening the doors violently and cursing God and the world. His eyes fell on her gentle and calm being sitting in his chair while delegating some activities, looking at him shocked by the sight of his injured boss, jumping to help him.
★ Mincing no words, he grabbed his face, kissing him fiercely, waiting for you to fight but you didn't, just melting into the kiss, blushing when he pulled away with a smug smile on his face. He didn't care about his security guard seeing them, just pushing you against the table to see under your skirt.
★ He pushed your chest against the table, lifting your skirt, revealing your pert ass and a stain on your panties, mocking him for not even touching you yet and you're wet for him; He runs his fingers over your panties, teasing you until you moan and ask for more.
★ He ripped your panties off, throwing them in some corner of your own office and taking his big, thick dick out, spraying pre cum, teasing your slobbery entrance until he completely shoved his dick inside you and pounded into you.
★ Him hitting you so deep, pulling your neck to rest against his chest so he could rip off your formal blouse and expose your breasts, pinching and pulling, until they were red and sensitive; Moving one of his hands down to his stomach, a small bulge could be seen in the area.
★ He kissed your neck and shoulders, marking you as his and his alone, making you squirt as he shot jets of cum inside you. In the end, you were destroyed by him, just being used to relieve your stress, there would be times when he would be romantic, but right now, that's not the case. ^^
Do Gangjae
★ We all know how Gangjae is, presumptuous, arrogant and envious. He knew he couldn't touch his boss's secretary, because she was his daughter and maybe whoever touched her would die as soon as she did, but for him, the limit is the sky.
★ He sang to you every time he saw you, asked you out and even gave you some gifts, which certainly made you a blushing and grateful mess.
★ He even left notes when he passed by her table, saying how hot and provocative she looked in those tight formal clothes.
★ When he had the opportunity to be alone with you, he liked to touch your shoulders, waist and chin, complimenting you, flirting and even asking you about what he was doing.
★ That was until he chased you while you were going to the file room, the tiny hallways full of shelves of company files and documents. You were startled when you saw him standing there when you were wanting to leave, a smile plastering his face before he kissed you, teasingly as he said, “I knew you were crazy about this, me too.”
★ He pinned you to one of the shelves, kissing you fiercely, licking your lips to enter with his tongue making you moan with the friction. He walked away, panting while smiling, making you kneel.
★ Caressing your pretty face, your teary eyes and red lips, as he unzipped your pants, making his dick pop out hitting your cheek, him laughing as he rubbed his dick against your lips, telling you to be a good girl and suck him.
★ So you did, opening your mouth and little by little swallowing his fat cock, your movements slow, your eyes watering, he sighs because your mouth is so hot and wet, imagine your pussy.
★ He grabbed your strands of hair, keeping your head still as he began pounding into your mouth, seeking your climax, moaning how much of a slut you were for giving him a blowjob, making your core clench into nothingness, you were so wet ..
★ He came in her mouth while moaning, spilling cum down her throat and leaking out the sides of her mouth, grabbing her chin to swallow it all and sticking out his tongue to prove it. He smiled, lifting you brutally from the floor and lifting your skirt, ripping your panties, you spent long hours in that file room and when you left, your father's security guard asked if you were okay because you were tripping while walking, little did he know that the boy your father hates the most fucked you mercilessly.
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oneforthemunny · 11 days
Note
(Just because I saw a TikTok about it, lol) When Hockey!Eddie does have his first baby, and he’s on the road for games, and has unfortunately been gone for some time, I feel like Reader would plan a surprise visit by setting the car seat with their baby in front of Eddie’s hotel room, lol.
She knocks and hides away to the side, Eddie, of course, can’t see anyone through the peephole (tiny baby problems), and grumbles about “who the hell is knocking on my door at this hour?!”
Until he begrudgingly opens it, only to be face-to-face with his smiling baby—who very much giggles and sticks out their little arms instinctively, because that’s literally DADDA!
And Eddie, for certainly, is in shock. “What?!” He coos, as he picks up his baby. “You know how to use a plane ticket?!”
STOP OMG
thinks it's his teammates being dumb or some girl had followed him back to the room. either way it's late, he's annoyed, he's supposed to call you in a few minutes for your nightly phone call and now someone's interrupting him??
he almost doesn't answer so you have to knock again. he's fuming, grumbling, barks a "what?" in the meanest, grumpiest voice you've ever heard from him.
baby munson starts to cry. he can't see you and eddie's yelling?? not a good mix. starts as a whimper then a soft gurgle of a cry. you cringe, then the door opens.
"what the fuck do yo- oh!" eddie's face instantly lights up. "oh my god? no way- how did you get here?" he coos, dropping to pick up the baby.
"hey, hey, it's alright little man. what's goin' on? you got on a plane by yourself?" eddie grins, bouncing the baby, looking around for you. "i mean i knew you were getting big, but i didn't know you were this grown up." he plays along, catching the tips of your sneakers around the corner.
ahh i love him!!!
also baby hockey! munson boy needs a name
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Text
Scorpio Curse (König x F!OC)
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Part 2/3 of Valkyrie
(Part 1 here)
Summary: König gets an order to make a female SpecGru sniper talk, but König doesn't want to hurt women.
Category: Smut 🔞, angst, fluff
Tags & warnings: Explicit mature content +18 audiences only, strangers to lovers (slight enemies to lovers), dubious consent, threats of rape, virgin!König, size kink, size difference, p in v, multiple orgasms, cunnilingus, squirting, hugs and cuddles, super fluffy ending. König will be named in later chapters. 
Part 2: Mostly König who is in desperate need of a hug (don't worry, he will get it soon enough :*)
A/N: KorTac and SpecGru are rivaling military contractors, Conor is König's superior (and a huge villain), and I just wanted to write angsty smut featuring our favourite Austrian boi. 
"You should've come to me, König."
He was still here.
No one had told him to leave his stuff and sign the papers and get the fuck out.
He had been called to see the team leader, though.
Immediately.
"It's true that we don't do that shit. Especially with the SpecGru, not after everything that already went through."
He told his side of the story, and apparently, the command agreed that Conor had made a mistake.
"Your superior officer slipped, but that doesn't mean you have the right to do whatever the fuck you deem more appropriate."
The leader's cheeks were red, and his voice traveled from peaceful, tired account to a booming loud yell.
"To tell you the truth, König, you're good at what you do. But pull this kind of shit again, and the KorTac will ensure you lose your rifle for good. They'll make sure you'll get spat in the face in every fucking PMC on this fucking planet, you hear me?"
He was surprised he didn't catch spit flying right now.
"Sir."
"Now go fix that goddamn fence."
"Yes, sir. Right away, sir."
König, former weapons sergeant of the Jagdkommando and current operator of the special forces known as KorTac, felt like a fresh recruit when he turned heel and marched from the office. He thought about asking whether the surveillance tape would be destroyed or if it was already but sensed that this was not the best moment to ask questions. The leader's tired voice followed him as he walked away with cold sweat tingling down his back.
"Jesus. Where did you even get those bolt cutters.."
He worked half a day to get it right. Repairing the fence was easy, but fixing it so that it wasn't a weak spot in the area's defense was not. He had kneeled down in this exact same spot less than 24 hours ago, with a tense, silent cargo thrown on his back in a fireman's carry.
He had yanked the door to the surveillance room open to let the men know they could get a coffee break while he watched the prisoner — only to find that there was no one there. He had been played twice the fool, and she had paid the price. He wasn't man enough to tell her it had been all in vain when he went to get her.
He certainly wasn't going to tell her that he would still do it all again.
She stayed mute the whole journey to the fence, remained quiet even when he placed her gently on the ground and showed her the hole he had made on the chain link fence for her to crawl through.
"There you go, little Walküre."
She stared at his work for a while, sniffed, then looked up at him.
"You think you can fit through that?" He asked, although he had made sure the hole was big enough for even him to go through.
"Yeah…" she uttered her first words since forever before reaching for her road to freedom. Realizing she was still tied, she pivoted back.
"My hands.." she started, but he was already kneeling on the ground with his combat knife pulled out. With utter care, he cut her loose. She caught him after it was done, and he glanced at those tiny fingers that barely reached to close around his wrists.
"Thank you."
He raised his stare, and her eyes bored into his as she ensured her words had sunk in. Then she turned, dived for the hole… but turned back again.
"König."
He had enough time to discover that the naked pain in her eyes was of the exact same kind as the agony spreading in his heart before she leaped to him, threw her arms around him — and suddenly, he was home.
"Don't get yourself killed." Her voice was a muffled sob that hit his skin through the mask as she pressed her face against his neck and squeezed him with a surprising amount of strength. Dumbfounded, he raised his arms but wasn't sure if she would welcome the touch. He didn't want her to think he would seize her just when she had been offered a way out.
"Promise that you won't get killed."
He knew that he would probably get maimed for this. At the very least, he would lose his contract. But he hadn't even thought about it when he made that hole and carried her here.
She released him and pulled back. Her eyes were pure attention, a time-halting awareness that seized him without warning. It didn't matter that he was loaded with gear, that he had a helmet and a mask on. She could see him. All of him. And she smiled.
Then she reached for his mask.
He did nothing to stop her as she grabbed the hood and started to lift it. His vision went black with the ascending cloth for the longest second…
And then he could see again — see her wide eyes roam his face. The silence was pierced by a few raindrops, the first of an impending heavy rain. They landed on his helmet and on his arm guards, specked on her cheeks as they fell from the heavy clouds above them.
"Wow," she breathed, with parted lips and eyes that sparkled.
She grabbed his helmet through the cloth and pushed both the hood and the piece of metal away. The bundle landed somewhere next to him with a soft clunk a second before her lips pressed against his.
Rain fell, and with it, the paint from around his eyes — all the black he had surrounded himself with ran down his cheeks and neck, all the way under the collar of his shirt and over his heart that thumped like a maniac. They were in a warm August shower together, and she pulled him by his neck, threatened to swallow him, and he could do nothing but melt and surrender and answer with the same gentle hunger.
Her fingers swept across his chin; they caressed his temples, brushed his scalp, and tugged at his hair, not hindered by the fact that there wasn't much to grab hold of in the classic military undercut. They slid down his neck, grabbed his tactical vest, and pulled him deeper into the kiss. She sucked his lip, kissed the raindrops away, and he was hard as a rock even in the pants that were soaked and cool.
When she relented, all too soon, he would've given everything to freeze time and stay there. Under that hail, kneeled in that mud — with her, forever.
"I can't go through that fence unless you promise me," she panted in his mouth, and every single fiber in his body told him not to promise anything. He wanted to grab her instead, take her back, tuck her somewhere safe, and keep her as his own.
"Ok," he whispered.
A gush of hot air landed on his face as she gave a short laugh.
"Ok what?" She smiled against his mouth, her teeth colliding with his lips.
"I… promise."
"'Atta boy," he felt the words before he heard them, and she kissed him once more, and he could've drowned in that kiss. In those words.
"I'll never forget this," she said, lips wet with all that rain, eyes blinking through the drops that slithered down her face and got caught in her lashes.
I'll never forget you.
"No problem."
"No problem…? God. Could you get any more charming?"
She thought he was charming…
"Just one more thing, hero."
She bit her lip, looked down on the soaked grass, then up at him, and smiled.
“What’s with the hood? I really don’t get it. You look super nice.” She winked an eye at him. And then she turned and crawled through that hole and vanished into the darkness.
He was left alone in the descending rain, and there he had remained ever since.
He was convinced he still had her scent on him. He never washed that shirt he had been wearing the day he lifted her in his lap. He tried to catch her from it, and for a few days, he thought he actually did. But then that scent became only a memory.
Nevertheless, it followed him everywhere. No one knew that he was encompassed by it. That he was shrouded with her as he walked the base or rose on the plane.
Days passed by, and he still felt her lips on his own. Her taste in his mouth. Felt her legs around him, her soft walls surrounding him.
He replayed the frenzied vision over and over again in his head to remind himself that he had truly been inside her. That he had made her produce all those sounds. Made her clench around him and smell like honeydew and summers by the lake. He realized that he had started to truly live only after he had opened the door to that bleak room full of her. And then his life froze like a movie that was pressed on an eternal pause as he saw the soles of her boots push against the muddy ground to get her through that fence and away from him.
Three weeks passed — three weeks without her.
He did his job, went on missions, and executed orders to the letter.
But mostly, he was in his thoughts.
Mostly, he thought of her.
He thought of her when he had a rifle in his hand during ops. He thought of her during briefings, when he did deadlifts, racked a barbell after bench press, or sparred with training knives.
He thought of her in showers, in the mess hall, and most of all, in bed at night when he stroked himself to a release that eased his sleep.
He had never been so virile, not even as a teen. His libido was off the roof as the only thing he could think about was how he could get to jerk himself off in the shower stall or in his bunk after the day was done. Thoughts of her were his reward, the only thing that seemed to sustain him.
She was the most radiant thing in his life: everything else had faded away, turned to gray and black. Monotone, lifeless, empty. The pain faded for a while every time he came into his fist. Then it hit him with an even more crippling force as he realized that she wasn't real; she wasn't here.
Still, he fantasized what it would be like to hold her after, how they would drift off to sleep together. He envisioned her skin, her scent, her hair. The top of her head against his chin, her little hands around his neck, her laugh, all of it.
Sometimes when he had a hard day, he fantasized how her body would press softly against his back, and she would slide an arm around him, and it would disappear beneath his shirt. Her palm would come and rest right where his heart was, and she would just hold him.
On the worst days, he cried. He thought of the bullies and what they would say and how they would laugh if they saw him now, curled up in the soiled sheets with a cock in his hand, falling asleep on a tear-soaked pillow.
After a few months, he started to dissolve.
He got reckless on the field — jumped out of the helo before it had even landed properly, was all sloppy with his cover, wasted bullets, and revealed his position for the sake of getting up close and personal, for having the satisfaction of killing his opponents with a knife or with his bare hands.
People complained. Hutch complained, Fender complained — even Zero complained.
Some said it was just good old König, that he didn't care. Medics said he had a guardian angel with him when he never got hit, got barely even scratched when at the same time, some of the best operators were severely injured.
And some saw right through it.
"He fell in love with that sniper bitch. That's what's wrong with 'im," Conor had said.
He had nearly attacked the man for what he said — what he had called her. His angel.
But he knew that's what Conor wanted: to taunt him into making a mistake that would result in his dismissal from the force. Would probably destroy his chances to continue a career anywhere in the military. And then he would quickly find himself in civilian life, where he had never quite fit into.
"Promise me you won't get killed."
He had promised her to stay alive, and he couldn't disappoint her. So it became a prayer. Every night he made an offering to her, so she would keep him safe. No bullet could touch him. He knew that somehow she could feel his longing, the love he had for her. She would protect her like the war maiden that she was. And even if he caught that bullet, he knew it would only take him to heaven. She had already carried him there.
Six months without her, and people started to fear him.
His teammates looked at him with dread as he geared up for missions with the secret knowledge that he was practically immortal. The team leader said he resembled a machine, and he took it as a compliment. Even Lieutenant kept his mouth shut and looked at him with something akin to respect.
But he got even more time off when he wanted the exact opposite. He was pretty sure that there was a note in his file now. Right after the screaming red words released a prisoner without the requisite order from a superior officer. A comment that said he was behaving wrong, that he was unstable or something. They offered him cognitive therapy, sleeping pills, meditation groups, ice baths, even acupuncture. He turned it all down, knowing that it was no use.
And so they sent him home more and more often.
It was even worse there. He never wanted the leaves, but KorTac was firm in their protocol. Contract soldiers needed time off duty to prevent "substantial impairment concerning the operator's ability to work." Even if he wanted to, he couldn't stay in the barracks and get every mission he could get his hands on.
He sat in his apartment, slept late, went for a swim, went to the gym, and came back to sit and sleep. He thought of her when he walked the streets with a hole in his chest, a hole as deep as the Mariana Trench. He saw her in all the women of the same height and weight as her. At some point, he realized he had never paid so much attention to women as he did now.
"Go get a pint and a girl, König. Just get it out of your head."
Zero meant well, but he could've punched him too for saying that.
He didn't want a girl; he wanted her.
Pint sounded good, though. He had visited the nearest pub only a few times before, but the place had only reminded him that he was not home and that pubs were different from bierstubes. But right now, he didn't want to go back to that cold, dark flat to stare at the ceiling and wait till sleep would come.
He pushed the door open and stomped his feet on the mat even though it didn't rain outside. He walked further into the dimly lit hall and saw that early evening wasn't the busiest time in this place: more than half of the tables were empty.
And then he looked for the counter and saw her.
His Kriegsmädchen was there.
His Walküre was here.
She was here and looked just the way he remembered her — no, even more luminous. Glowing.
Perhaps he had finally lost it. But he kept looking, blinking, and saw her fingertips curl around a glass, saw the hair she had tied into a high ponytail, the smile that spread across her face just before she laughed.
The angelic sound went straight between his legs and stabbed a hole in his gut, and he was bleeding — months and months of pain, right there in the hallway of a quiet pub.
She was alive and safe, laughing, and so lovely that his hands started to tremble just as they had when his bullies approached him back in school. It was odd because she was everything but. He took a step, heart thumping and palms sweating, like he was approaching an enemy he knew he had to finish with his bare hands.
He walked to the counter in the eye of a storm, and she evaded his gaze and tried to act like she didn't even notice that some man was striding toward her.
Did men approach her often?
Of course they did. And she tried to look like an immovable stone, a prey that wouldn't draw attention.
"Walküre?"
And only then did she turn her gaze, eyes filled with both fear and hope.
Her mouth opened, and she drew a sharp breath, shoulders tense. He had to fight tooth and nail to not grab her and press her against that counter or kiss her, devour her while he carried her off out that door...
"... Valkyrie?" Her friend repeated sarcastically, with a birth of a laugh on her lips, staring at him like he was a circus attraction. He didn't spare even a glance her way.
Couldn't, because he was mesmerized by the most soothing gaze in the world.
"Hi," she breathed, voice almost breaking.
His eyes went straight to her lips as she said it, the sound far too similar in his mind to the breaths that had escaped her in that dull, grey room.
She cleared her throat and swallowed.
"Kate, this is… Siegfried. A friend from my old job."
He knew he should move, look to the side, and say hello. Act normal. But he couldn't move, couldn't even blink.
She pursed her lips and looked down at her drink, at her friend, and then back up at him.
"Nice to meet you," her friend spoke, and he finally managed to turn his eyes toward her and nod slowly.
“You must be the battering ram.” She took a sip of her drink with a flash of eyebrows.
He heard a sharp inhale from beside him and only wanted to ignore everything and everyone else in the room except for the one who gasped like that.
“You know, the one they send to charge through doors?”
“Done that too.”
The friend called Kate's eyes widened from the stare he knew made most people uncomfortable.
"What are you doing here?"
His angel spoke, and he turned. She was looking even more beautiful with flushed cheeks. It was strange to see her like this: sitting gracefully on that bar stool, wearing jeans and a bit of mascara. She wasn't covered in dirt and sleepless nights and fear, and he realized that he never wanted to see her like that again. He wanted her safe and sound, and happy; even if she had come on this earth to fight, just like he, even if she was deadly with a rifle. Even if she was a more able-bodied sniper than he ever could be.
"To get a lager."
"No, I mean," she laughed, sending warmth between his legs, "Why are you here, here?"
After a blink or two, he realized she meant the town.
"I'm on leave. I live here."
"Oh." She bit her lip. "Kate, um. Would you… Would you mind if we catch up a bit?"
He saw from the corner of his eye that the woman looked him up and down, and then a smile started to creep up her face.
"You know what June, I think I'm gonna head home. You two catch up for as long as you need and I'll see ya later, ok?"
Her name was June.
Like midsummer fests and seagulls and Radler.
Honey and raindrops…
"I'll go grab a table," he declared, thinking how odd that sounded, thinking whether his English was somehow off. As if he was going to physically grab a table and raise it in the air...
Kate chuckled behind his back as he turned and headed for a darker, more private corner.
"Jesus Christ, June… I knew you did some special commando shit, but that guy is -"
"Will you keep your voice down?"
"I mean… If you catch up all night, I doubt you'll be able to walk tomorrow."
"Kate…! "
The rest of the exchange of words faded as he reached the table and adjusted the chairs to be able to sit down.
Then he noticed that he was still wearing his jacket and got up to take it off. He saw her coming with her drink in hand, and she flashed a smile at him as he threw the leather bomber across the chair next to him.
"Nice jacket."
He looked down at the dark brown leather, worn and looking mostly what people called vintage or something.
"You gonna go get that beer, sweetie?"
Sweetie.
Sweetie.
"Ja," he nodded, turned, and marched back to the counter.
He ordered a beer, then asked what the lady over there was having.
"I think she, ah… ordered a mojito." The bartender extended his neck to the side to glance at their table. "Yeah, that's a mojito."
"One of those as well."
The man gave him a look that distinctly said You really think you're gonna get some of that? He didn't know what it was in his aura that told people he was a loser. Or a menace. And he didn't know which of those looks made the pain worse. But all of it faded instantly as she greeted him with a shy smile when he returned to the table with the drinks.
"Oh, you shouldn't have… I haven't even finished this one." She raised those lovely eyes at him, smiling, smiling… "Thank you, König."
Her fingertips brushed his as he gave it to her, the glass sweating with tiny cold drops of condensed water. She had pale pink, almost nude nail polish that made her nails look shiny and pure, her hands even more delicate. She watched as he scoured through the chairs to take a seat, pick a coaster and place his own glass on the table.
"A big one."
She then turned those playful faerie eyes on him, and he was suddenly grateful that he had picked the loose, black cargo pants to wear today… and that he was sitting.
"This is considered a small beer where I come from."
"I'm sure it is," she chuckled. The tight, white t-shirt she wore reminded him of the first time he had seen her, even though it was not one of those heavy cotton, military shirts. He grabbed the beer to do something, anything, and raised it to his lips, almost pouring the liquid all over him when he took a sip. She watched him gulp and smiled even wider. He was half hard at that point and had to spread his legs to accommodate and conceal what was happening in his pants and under the table.
"What about you, Walküre? What are you doing here?"
"I'm helping a friend -uh, Kate. She had an awful breakup."
He nodded and kept picking up his beer, drinking a small sip and trying to hit the center of the coaster as he set the glass back down.
"You're not with SpecGru anymore?"
"I signed off one week after… After. You know."
"I'm sorry to hear that," he said, even though he wasn't sorry at all. At least, not for the fact that she was out of harm's way.
"Nah, don't be. It was for the best. I'm able to sleep at night and everything."
She had trouble sleeping? Maybe that's why she looked even more radiant than before. She had slept well.
"I was worried about you."
"Really?" she tilted her head to the side, and her eyes started to shine even brighter.
"... that you might not find your way home."
"I'm a big girl. Trained with the Green Berets and everything.. But it warms my heart to hear that. I worried about you, too."
"You did?"
"Yeah. Sure, I mean… I was afraid you'd get into some trouble because of me."
Someone laughed at the next table, but the unexpected sound reached him through a comfortable haze; like he was sitting underwater. The battlefield wasn't nearly as distressing an environment as this peaceful pub - or any other place he rarely visited. But this time, with her, it was not too bad. His senses were blown wide, but he wasn't afraid.
"Also ja… They did yell at me."
"That's horrible. I could never yell at you."
He felt himself nearly choke on the beer, tried to breathe through his nose, and forced the liquid down with an audible gulp.
"You kept your promise," she said in a low voice, her smile fading slightly. Her eyes locked with his, and he basked in the warmth.
"Natürlich."
I prayed for you every single night, Kriegsmädchen.
She gave him a small, sad smile and looked down, swirling her ice-filled glass.
"You know I…" she started, took a breath, then another. "I've missed you, König."
He squeezed the tall glass before realizing that it might actually break at some point.
"I've missed you too, Walküre."
He looked at his beer, still halfway full, and then at the completely untouched drink he had brought her.
"You want to go to my place?"
Part 3:
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