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#he is not like that. at all. he is a civilized and normal and every other person
heabitfruity · 17 hours
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Silly Hobbies: Primarch Edition
Apparently I wrote too much according to tumblr, so I'm sorry if it's choppy :[
Lion El'Johnson - He actually really loves analyzing "literature"; but not normal literature like Shakespeare or Kafka. He likes analyzing things like The U.S Constitution and The Treaty of Versailles. He does this because he thinks it will help him diplomatically (it doesn't, nobody gets why he does it otherwise, not even his sons).
Fulgrim - This man knows how to dance to every K-Pop song known to man. He can throw it back to "Baby Got Back" and has tried to teach Sanguinius and Ferrus Manus how (It didn't go well, Ferrus threw his back out ). This man knows the exact choreography to "Womanizer", "Nude" and so many other songs.
Perturabo - He likes making useless contraptions; like infomercial level sort of inventions. He has invented bread-dogs, a time-machine to go back exactly two seconds for each use, a voice-recording recorder, etc. He uses Dorn to test it out, despite their... feelings for one another. He knows that Dorn will give him a blunt answer; even if he is told that the invention is "stupid".
Jaghatai Khan - He's really good at acrobatics, specifically everything with the asymmetrical bars; this man could easily escape a pack of dogs with a pen in his pocket (If anyone gets this reference I will be so proud). He attempted to teach Angron how to do the basics, but it didn't go that well; the man is just simply not flexible enough yet.
Leman Russ - This is a secret that he will take to his grave because he suffers from major internal misogyny. He knows how to knit, and he's REALLY good. He grew up on a planet that is 75% of the time below zero, of course the second he got ahold of yarn and wool he got to making warm things for his marine-sons! However, he plays it off as things like: "the citizens of Fenris have donated these for our cause".
Rogal Dorn - He likes making massive forts, societies and various massive structures in Minecraft, with Legos, Lincoln Logs, and those small, ceramic Christmas towns. They're usually quite extensive, but not extravagant. He will pester Perturabo and Magnus to look at them, and this often leads to debates about how these civilizations would function.
Konrad Curze - He teaches cooking classes; however, they are not pleasant. At the end of meal prep, all students are covered in blood due to Konrad butchering whatever protein they had prepared. The food actually tastes amazing, however the process of making it is certainly a battle within itself. Sevatar is his sous chef, which means he frequently has to do most of the work that isn't butchering.
Sanguinius - Honestly, animal rehabilitation. I know this sounds absolutely odd, but due to him having wings, he has to know how to keep a healthy batch of feathers! He's excellent at bird handling, and actually really enjoys it. He's saved at least 54 birds (he doesn't get to find many, his sons typically try to steer him away).
Ferrus Manus - Dude actually makes some really mean jewelry; like the man makes the permanent ankle chains, ring engravements, earrings (with the help of Fulgrim). He's made a lot for his brothers like Leman, Fulgrim, Magnus, and the Khan. They're all very appreciative (though Ferrus has to make Leman a special mixture so he doesn't chew through it by accident).
Angron - He does extreme sports! It helps focus on something that doesn't direct his anger at things that he doesn't need to focus on. It's somewhat funny to think of him riding a BMX, but his absolute favorite is bungee-jumping! He has forced demanded that his sons and brothers try it to "toughen them up". However, nobody except Konrad wanted to. (They both had a great time! One of the few times they've actually bonded over anything.)
Guilliman - He enjoys grading papers... He enjoys signing up to grade the essays of AP classes on Terra and does it every year if he has the time. He takes the pleasure of learning things about literary merit from other people's perspectives, and every time it makes him consider becoming a professor (even though it would be highly impractical).
Mortarion - He enjoys escape rooms, especially with Konrad and Horus. They actually usually have a great time, though sometimes they have to stop Konrad from digging into the walls. He actually commissioned Perturabo to make an elaborate escape room with hatches and secret pathways all around a set of shipping containers. It was so fun that he actually decided to keep it. (He still discovers new routes and puzzles in it every time he goes in.)
Magnus the Red - He plays Dungeons and Dragons with Khan, Guilliman, Perturabo and Alpharius and Omegon. He ALWAYS is the Dungeon Master, no matter what. This is not because he is selfish and possessive (he is a little), but because nobody in the group can seem to maintain a regular gaming schedule. They have simply resorted to Magnus being the godly controller of their games.
Horus Lupercal - This man fishes. I'm sorry, he does the straight, white man fishing and poses. He takes pictures of the fish with the awkward raised arm but genuine smile. He sometimes gives the fish to Konrad, however, less so after finding out from his students what happens during his classes.
Lorgar Aurelian - He writes fanfiction. He likes to show Magnus and Horus his angsty stuff. This stuff is even enough to make Magnus cry a little. Lorgar, however, also writes smut. I believe that this man has never had the intimate touch of any person. Not because he's celibate, but because he's a bitch. The smut's written like in the early days of Wattpad. It's disastrously bad (Think "his meat-cicle entered her mound"). Leman found it one time, he tormented Lorgar for weeks with it.
Vulkan - He bakes! He has learned all the favorite sweets of all of his brothers, making sure to surprise them occasionally whenever they haven't spoken in a while. He loves it whenever there are big events, gives him a chance to see all of his brothers and see them enjoy his work. (There have been some small altercations due to people hoarding food)
Corvus - He likes fashion; but not in a New York fashion week way, more of an Edna from The Incredibles way. He uses the help of Ferrus and Leman to help sew cloaks, shape up boots, and they use Sanguinius and Fulgrim to model it to make sure it looks good and it works.
Alpharius Omegon - They like mimicking their brothers as much as possible; in a "try to look exactly like them" way. It is actually really impressive, even going past the uncanny valley vibe. This led to Mortarion walking in on two versions of himself standing at his bedroom door and it made him piss his pants; and nobody believed him when he told the rest of them.
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prettyboykatsuki · 14 days
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I’m so sorry if this is out of pocket but I need to know how hairy fujoneet reader is……. You mentioned her having bush already but what about everywhere else…
JKSDHFJS i do not want to get too detailed so people can still project but she virtually doesn't shave at all so do w that what you will. she tries one time for rin after they start dating and it hurts so bad she cries to him and he ends up finding her so pathetic they fuck again while he explains he could not care less.
so all in all as hairy as u wish to believe. her skin is too sensitive for that and rin would huff her no matter what
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derichelieu · 3 months
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Being the only woman in my department is wearing me tf down 😒
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poisonouspastels · 8 months
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actually im kind of thinking abt how all the main players in the AU are probably way more mentally Not Great than it may appear at first
#like Alex is constantly worrying she isn't doing enough for her family and pushes herself way too hard physically and mentally bc of it#no one expects it out of her but she kind of just got herself into that mindset and ends up hurting herself by pushing too hard usually#(Rana is working with her to help break the habit)#Herobrine lived in caves for like 7 (I think. im too lazy to go check the rough timeline rn) years straight#like i already dont have to explain why thats bad on its own but hyperfixating on a dead civilization that long#to the point where you almost entirely forgot your first language is Worse.#he's had so many spider bites and eaten parts of spiders that he's literally just immune to the venom now#Rana you'd think would be better off since she's like the traditional happy cheery character but I guess that's also why she's Not#being happy is a choice to her. she's lived through some of the worst shit but she keeps persisting because the world needs more love in it#she's going to be happy out of spite despite all the odds and she wants to give that to others as much as she can#this girl walks in and out of the Nether every other month for potion ingredients like how 'okay' can she actually be really#Steve is probably like the most normal by comparison#but im not really sure how sane you can realistically qualify yourself to be when you've previously done DIY top surgery with a sword#that was not a fun day for neither Steve nor (pre transition) Rana but it worked! please dont do that again#no one else do it either neither of them would recommend it#he's not traumatized from that or anything but ill be damned if the gender dysphoria didnt win that day#but at the same time so did he. via the use of like 20 healing potions#thanks Rana#minecraft au mastertag
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shadesoflsk · 2 months
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THE OLD WAY
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pairing: Leon Kennedy x fem reader
summary: Living at a farm and being married surely has it perks. However, Leon can't help but think something is missing.
warnings: smut, MDNI, oral (fem receiving) p in v, mating press (??), creampie, breeding kink, outdoor sex, age gap (unspecified), established relationship, fluff, Leon is so husband in this, mentions of pregnancy, domestic bliss.
word count: 4k
author's note: Hello! I had this fic in my drafts for sooo long. I was kind of ashamed to post this since it's not my usual type of content but !!! fuck it !! Ovulation goes brrr. I hope you all like it!I had an older Leon in mind but I used a re6 leon pic for funsies. (And please... don't judge the lack of creativity in my title... I didn't know what to write.)
MY MASTERLIST
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City life was no longer fitting for a man like him. Job was not the same and he was afraid he might not get up from one of his falls one day. Joints no longer worked like they used to, a painful reminder of how his age was getting to him.
That's why he chose to retire, rather early for the average citizen. But he believes his position as a federal agent has aged him to the point where he could easily describe himself as an 80 years old man who needed help crouching down.
With that in mind, he wasted no time buying a home away from civilization. Money was no problem and owning a ranch now sounded like the best idea he could come up with. Days turned into weeks, weeks into months, and months into years. Time seemed to flow faster as he settled down in a peaceful lifestyle.
Solitude was very much welcomed. The sounds of blood dripping and ragged screams were replaced by the soft pitty patter of the rain and the usual rooster’s crow each morning, announcing a new day. 
But, as much as he has grown to love and appreciate his simplistic routine, the monotonous daily work and the lack of companionship were hitting him hard. When night came and his thoughts clouded his rational side, he yearned for a change in his life. He was never the romantic type, never been. His previous job as an agent cut off any possibilities of having a partner and settling down like any normal person would. But years made him a sappy man, it seemed.
Life works in mysterious ways, though. He wouldn’t have thought that farm life would bring him a sweet thing like you. It all started with your car breaking down a few meters away from his farm. You wanted to thank him for his help, there was no way you would simply express your gratitude through words, not after his assistance. 
So, your first visit consisted of a home-baked pie which he reluctantly accepted. Not because he didn’t want to but it had been a while since he was last gifted something. That first meeting soon turned into a couple until you were basically there every day. 
“Stay with me,” shifted into a “Be my girlfriend” and therefore the “Marry me?” finally came. 
You were the best thing that has ever happened in his life, a peaceful life away from any danger the city may bring and a beautiful wife by his side? God granted him the most perfect miracle ever. 
He followed the milestones of your relationship to a T. Even though the lack of knowledge was sometimes obvious, he knew the basics of how to keep a girl—his girl— happy. It was in his nature to provide, and living with you meant no exception. 
He always strived to do better, to be better. Your needs were always met and he took pride in knowing he was your husband. No one else but him. 
However, he felt selfish when none of that actually fulfilled him. He was happy with you, don’t get him wrong. Nothing was like before when he thought he would die alone with no one who cared about him. But something in the back of his mind kept bothering him.
And ever since he realized something was missing, he couldn't help but try to find out what it was. 
For days and weeks, he tried picturing the change both of you needed. More pets? You had enough with the dog you both have. Vacations? He had already taken you to the beach. More space in your home? The house at the farm was alright… Maybe a little too big for just the two of you.
Oh.
Oh…
The problem was the two of you. Or rather, being just the two of you on this big ranch. 
He had come to realize that he could, in fact, dream bigger. A few years ago, he would have thought that being married was a faraway dream, unachievable and stupid. But now he’s a husband and maybe if he tries hard enough, he can get to be a family man.
However, nobody has taught him how to face these types of situations. Even when he asked you to be his wife, he needed months of preparation. How was he going to explain this desire to put a baby in you? 
On one peaceful night, he was spooning you as always. It was his favorite activity after taking care of his chores at the farm (and even doing some of yours just so you could relax more). But even when there was nothing but a comforting silence, his thoughts wouldn’t stop flooding his mind. 
He let one of his hands rest on your abdomen, caressing the skin there with circular motions. He tried closing his eyes to prevent more of those thoughts from coming to his mind yet it was useless. His imagination was running wild when he pictured you carrying a life in your belly, swollen and round, the perfect scenario.
He imagined taking care of you. Of course, his pretty wife won’t do anything if she’s next to him. There was no way he wouldn’t take that opportunity to show her how much of a man, a good man he was. 
Pressing a kiss to your cheek as he rested behind you, he spoke before even thinking what he was supposed to say.
“You would be a good mom, you know?” It slipped out of his mouth, he should’ve used a more discreet way of speaking his mind. Now it was too late to draw back.
“What?” You chuckled as you turned your head to look at Leon. “I’d look great as a mom?” 
“Yeah.” He whispered, finally admitting his desire to have a family. “What do you think?”
He wouldn’t push the matter if you don’t feel the same. As much as he loved the idea of having mini versions of both of you, there was no way he would force you to do it. 
“Mhm… I think you’d also be a great dad.” Your voice was as soft as his, indulging in this little moment of intimacy and raw honesty. 
The word dad rings in his mind. His life before having his ranch was violence-filled, then years of solitude surrounded by nothing but nature cornered him to think that being alone was his destiny. Now, you brought him a newfound desire to come back home and finding you and your child. A family.
“You think so?” 
“Absolutely.”
Leon had a silly smile formed on his face. His dreams were actually achievable and domesticity and tranquility were now his everyday life.
“We can try if you want.” You added, feeling how Leon continued drawing shapes on your stomach. “How many would you like?”
Leon didn’t think he would get this far. 
“Want me to be honest?” Leon’s lips curled into a mischievous smile. “I wouldn’t mind having an entire football team with you.” He joked, hearing how you gasped in response.
“Leon!” You slapped his hand out of your abdomen. “I’m the one having them!” 
Both of you laughed as the night embraced both of you like a blanket. Confessions have never been so much welcomed as tonight’s. 
“I love you.” He murmured as his eyes closed. It was a reassurance that whatever life had in store for both of you, he would gladly accept it.
“I love you more.” You replied with the same fondness as always. Drifting off to sleep was easier than ever.
-
Days passed and the conversation wasn’t forgotten. Nonetheless, you let the flow of time and life decide for both of you.
Daily chores needed to be completed no matter what. So, he’s now washing his hands after feeding the horses. You’re holding the garden hose which makes a wet mess given the force of the water. 
“Didn’t know it was raining.” Leon jokes as the water soaks his shirt and pants. 
“Shit, sorry.” You turn off the garden hose as you giggle watching how drenched Leon looks. 
And while you are genuinely sorry since Leon still has things to do on the farm, you can’t help but appreciate the image your husband is offering. White shirt now see-through, giving you the perfect view of his soft abdomen clinging to the fabric.
When you first met Leon, he had told you what an amazing body he had. With so much pride, he once showed you pictures of his past self. Images of a toned torso and strong arms would look appealing to your eyes. But each time Leon and you are intimate, you get to feel his slightly rounder belly pressed against you, his strong arms clinging to you. In those moments you can’t help but thank God for the gorgeous man you have. 
“Enjoying the view?” Leon breaks the silence when he feels your eyes not leaving his body. 
“Maybe…” You quietly whisper as you drop the hose and walk closer to him. “Can’t help it, my husband is so handsome.” You add, hiding your face in the crook of his neck. Inevitably, you inhaled the scent you have grown to love. 
For a moment, you stay there, just drowning in the affection letting your hands rest on his sides unaware of how Leon could feel the slight friction of your breasts against his soaked shirt. The thin fabric of your dress does a poor job of preventing Leon’s hands from wandering around your body. 
A pool of arousal starts setting in Leon as he reaches your ass and gives it a firm squeeze.
With one swift and smooth move, he lifts you off the ground. Your feet are no longer touching the floor as Leon walks away from the barn. And, as if on command, you wrap your legs around his torso, allowing him to walk easier to whatever destination he had in mind.
For once, Leon hates the fact that he owns a big ass farm. His place is a bit far away from the barn, so his decisions are fogged by the desire and neediness he is feeling at the moment. Years in solitude led him to think he was imponent but with the way his jeans seem to get tighter each time your lower half brushes against his, he knows it's not true.
He is a gentleman, don’t get him wrong. He’d have picked you up and carried you to his bedroom as usual, laid you on the bed, taken off your clothes, and fucked you gently (or rough) like he usually did. However, a newfound wish piqued his interest, and even though you're in a secluded area, he wishes everyone would know what pretty girl he got.
Without further thinking and no complaints made, he places you down on the grass. The sensation of the blades tickling your skin is, in a way, bothersome, but your brain is easily turned into mush every time Leon dares to touch you.
Leon, however, wouldn’t allow you to feel any discomfort. His sun-kissed skin would be exposed in swift motion as he takes off his wet shirt. Those antagonizing seconds of admiring him unbuttoning the fabric push you to press your thighs together, seeking any type of release or mere pleasure.
“Up,” And after those endless seconds of him taking off his shirt, his hand taps your hip, motioning you to lift the lower half of your body for him to lay his shirt there. Giving no second thoughts, you raise your rear, pathetically quick, and Leon notices. “So needy, have I been slacking off?”
And his tone gives him away. He is looking forward to letting nature be the witness of your lustful acts. The sun being your light and the grass your makeshift bed. His body embraces the position on top of you.
“Of course I have.” He cooes, bringing his face lower and lower before pressing his cheek against your inner thigh. His stubble resembles sandpaper with how it scratches your skin, but at this point, it brings more pleasure than annoyance. “Look at her, already crying for me.”
His breath tickles the middle area between your legs. The wet spot in your panties is obvious to Leon who wastes no time to bring up that fact. And you want to thank yourself for choosing a dress today because there is no way you could do anything besides laying on the grass and letting Leon treat you so nicely and tenderly.
“How could I?” He hums against the soaked patch of the fabric. “Been neglecting my pretty girl.” He presses a kiss on your clothed area, dragging down the anticipated pleasure you’re looking for. 
“Mhm… please.” Your babbles gain a chuckle out of Leon’s lips. He is enjoying the whole setting, he wouldn’t have known he had a thing for outdoor sex but then again, he loves discovering new things with you. 
Antagonistically, he lifts your dress until it reaches your abdomen and exposes your lower half.
And finally, his fingers hook around the sides of your panties, yanking down the fabric, allowing himself to admire the way he has made a mess of you already. 
As always, he was ready for his favorite meal in the whole world.
Lying on his stomach, he props up on his elbows, his mouth dives into your pussy as his tongue laps at your clit. A moan escapes your lips as the sensation of being eaten out by Leon floods your mind and soul. 
He feasts like a starved man, like he is eating his favorite dessert. He delves into your aching hole, his tongue tasting the sweet and well-known flavor of your juices. He brings your legs over his shoulders, propping you to raise your lower half and reach even deeper. 
“Shit,” Your fingers tangle in his dirty blond hair, shoving his face into your cunt. His lips suck your clit, paying close attention to that part, drawing moans and whines out of you. 
A plethora of names are being said as Leon continues being trapped between your thighs. He flicks his tongue while he feels how some of your slick drips to his stubble. And with the way your legs squeeze him even tighter, he can already guess you’re feeling so much pleasure from his tongue alone.
You arch your back, trying to bring him even closer to your core. The wet noises of his saliva and your slick mix with the outdoor ones. The soft rustling of the trees’ leaves and the birds chirping are a reminder of the scenario you both are in.
Whimpers leave your lips as Leon's tongue makes out with your cunt. Your fingers grip the shirt Leon placed as a makeshift blanket. Heat starts pooling in your belly as the antagonizing seconds of Leon eating you out bring you to the edge.
At last, your body jerks and comes undone in Leon’s grasp. He holds you in place, flattening his tongue to collect every drop of your slick. He could easily cum too just by the fact he was tasting your release. 
“My sweet girl, always so perfect for me.” He finally disconnects from your pussy to crawl back to where your face is. He places some kisses on your neck which is glistening with a layer of sweat given how much pleasure you were previously feeling. 
At last, his lips reach yours and he passionately kisses you. You could easily taste yourself in the kiss yet you don’t care at this very moment. 
For a moment, he indulges in the tenderness of the kiss after bringing you to heaven with just his tongue alone. However, the easily noticeable restraint in his jeans was getting harder to control. 
You feel him grind against you, seeking any type of friction to ease the aching feeling of his erection. 
“Leon… I can’t….” Leon’s intentions are obvious as you feel his clothed dick humping your leg like a needy man yet, you are still tender from your ecstasy. 
“You can…” He brings his face against the crook of your neck once again, placing wet kisses around your skin. “Just one more baby.”
He pleads, he begs, he needs to feel you wrapped around him. Those thoughts about leaving his mark, leaving his seed in you are still pretty much present. So at last, you nod. That’s when you can feel a smile forming on his lips which continue being pressed against your neck. 
“Thank you, thank you.” Acting like he hasn’t touched for ages, you hear the rustle of fabric and his belt buckle falling to the ground. You see how his dick springs out of his boxers when he pulls them down, already leaking precum just from eating you out.
In less than a second, you feel him collecting your previous release, sliding his cock through your folds with such ease that it had you gripping air. 
“Fuck…” He murmurs as he pushes himself painfully slowly, taking his time to feel how your walls tighten around his length. Pinned underneath him, you feel overwhelmed by the sensation of having his body so close to you. 
“My pretty wife…” He whispers as he is finally all the way in. “Look at you, so pretty full of me.” He adds while one of his hands caresses your hair.
He starts gently rocking against your body, the pace is slow and comforting as if trying to remember the way your velvety walls clamp his dick, the stretch being something you’re accustomed to.
“I love you so much, you know that?” He says as he thrusts inside of you, this time a little more urgently. The hand that was previously running through your hair wraps around your waist and lifts it slightly. 
“Mhm…yes.” You nod as your eyes lock with his, witnessing a newfound desire you haven’t seen before. Maybe it was the fact that both of you are outdoors, you don’t know. 
The sounds of his skin slapping against yours mix with your heavy breaths. The perfect music for the perfect scenario. As soon as Leon hits that sweet spot of yours, you whimper his name like a mantra. 
And then again, the thought of a family floods his mind. The mental image of your belly stretching out, making space for the baby is everything he longs for. And not only that, but he craves to take care of you, his pretty wife. You wouldn’t need to lift a finger for the nine months of pregnancy. 
“Wanna fill you up.” He finally confesses in a moan. He isn’t a stranger to dirty talk, you know it well. The way his words come out like a promise and an already-made decision is proof of his not so hidden wish. “This farm is lonely with just the two of us…”
And as he presses his forehead against yours, you see in his eyes the devotion he has for you. The same man that promised you the world is now promising a life, a new life who is going to be the perfect combination of both you and him.
“What’chu mean?” You feign ignorance just for the sake of hearing those words coming out of his mouth again. And as you try to say some more teasing words, you can feel the way his thrusts get rougher as if trying to make a statement. The statement being that he wouldn’t stop until you get pregnant.
“You know what I mean…” He is huffing by now, letting out a grunt as he utters those words. “Wanna get you nice and full.”
Ultimately, your dreams are the same as his. So you allow him to transform this dream of his into his—your—reality now.
“Yeah?” You say through your teeth, trying not to whimper from the fact that his cock is reaching so deep into you. 
“Yeah.” He groans, his sticky forehead never leaving yours as he looks into your eyes and your dazed-out expression. “You’re gonna look so goddamn beautiful as a momma.” 
Out of desperation to fuck you even deeper, he brings your legs to his shoulders, just like he previously did when he was eating you out. But this time, it is an attempt to let his dick mark your womb. 
It is his mission to one day see a positive test. It’s his mission to show his devotion to his princess and the now-future mother of his children. He’d never stop looking at the telltale of his seed making its home in your body. 
He wouldn’t let you do anything besides resting and growing your little miracle. He’d cook, he’d clean, he’d feed you if you ask him to. 
“Keep squeezing me like that, I’m gonna—fuck—cum…” He effortlessly bends your knees even more, bringing them closer to your chest.  “Gonna fill you up until I’m so damn empty.” 
He takes advantage of the vulnerable position you’re in to bring a hand to your clit. Rubbing it, he waits for the imminent climax of both of you.
“Cum for me, princess.” He presses his body on top of you, the position allowing him to let out an almost growl against your ear. The sense of purpose that Leon is showing prompts you to finally reach your climax. With a broken voice and your fingernails leaving crescent moons on his back, you coat his dick with your release. A gooey ring forms at the base of his cock every time he pulls in and out of you. 
His actions don’t stop there, though. He was so close to spilling right inside you and making his dreams come true. He brings the hand that was previously teasing your clit to your face, brushing away some of your hair that has stuck to your forehead, he looks right into your eyes.
“Fucking love you so much.” He grunts, his deep sea eyes never leaving yours, as if trying to engrave this moment in his mind. To forever remember the time when he finally achieved his dream. “You’ll be the prettiest momma ever.”
Although his thrusts are too much for you to handle and the overstimulation turns into a slight discomfort, the way his hand is gently caressing your cheek—a juxtaposition of his determined attempt of marking you— makes you melt on the spot.
And especially since the cold feeling of his wedding ring reminds you of the amazing man you married.
“I'm cumming.” He warns you as his thrusts get sloppy and without rhythm. He's seeing stars at this moment, every time he plunges his dick into you he reaches the sky. And at last, with the way his breath gets laboured and heavy, it announces his high coming.
The head of his dick spurts rope after rope of cum into you, the angle you are in makes it easier for it not to drip out of you. He wouldn’t allow a drop of his seed to go to waste. 
You feel the warm and thick liquid filling your insides, proof of Leon’s actions and therefore fulfilled wish. For a moment, you stay there letting his weight crush you and your bent legs. 
After a while, he slowly slips out of you, carefully placing your legs on the ground. You feel the grass blades tickling your calves where Leon’s shirt doesn’t reach. 
Leon rests his arm next to your head, admiring the dazed-out expression you have after letting him fill you.
“Hey…” He murmurs before letting out a soft chuckle. 
“Hi you.” You respond with a smile amidst the exhaustion that is running through your veins. “We really just did that.”
“Yeah…” In his eyes, you can observe how much love he has for you and how eager he is to know if this one dream will be a reality.
With his free hand, he grabs yours and places soft pecks on your knuckles. 
“Are you okay?” He once again speaks, now making sure you are alright. 
“More than okay.” 
He gives your knuckles one last kiss before he lets out a breathy laugh, shaking his head while doing so.
“A penny for your thoughts?” You ask.
“Nothing…” He shakes his head once again. “It's just that… I may have some dad jokes already prepared.”
“Shut up, Leon.”
You couldn’t wait to know if your dreams were achieved by this act. You couldn’t wait to see if your life could get even better than this. And especially, you couldn’t wait to experience being a family.
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💬 shadesoflsk: Comments, reblogs and likes are very much appreciated.
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seakicker · 1 year
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mother's day hc that you tell the genshin boys you're pregnant on mother's day so they decide to celebrate by getting you double pregnant?
YES MA’AM i had a randomizer pick four names for me out of all the guys i write for… kinda laughing at 3/4 of them being all the Serious, Stoic ones lol
fem reader, pregnancy, breeding, overstimulation (alhaitham) and knotting (gorou) below!
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alhaitham
You can never be too sure, he says— a good, valid experiment hinges upon proper reliability. Do you know how many undergraduate experimental reports he’s dismissed on account of their supposed “results” being the chance of mere coincidence or random chance? It never hurts to eliminate the possibility of a false positive and to ensure that your positive pregnancy test result is a true positive by breeding you all over again and having you take another pregnancy test in five weeks or so.
When you tell him you’re pregnant, he responds with a quiet nod before almost analyzing all of the behavior you’ve displayed over the last few weeks. Yes, the news makes perfect sense— last week, Alhaitham overheard you wondering aloud if your period was late or if you had just tracked it wrong, and he’d have to be a fool to not know what a missed period is the universal signifier of. The news comes at a perfect time, so he couldn’t be happier— though your husband certainly has a… uniquely stoic way of expressing happiness.
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That night, he replicates every last aspect of the night he imagines he got you pregnant some five weeks ago (it’s a simple calculation, really) down to your spot on the bed and the clothes he was wearing just to make sure that a false positive is out of the question. Perhaps he’ll have to come inside if you twice tonight just to really seal the deal that you’re pregnant— once is chance, twice is a coincidence, and thrice is a true pattern. You’d like to try and convince him that surely there’s no need for all of this, that pregnancy tests rarely, rarely fail or show an incorrect result, but there’s no pushing back against your husband’s logical calculations or sense of reason— not that you’re much in the condition to even try to speak with him anyways.
When your husband has you spread open wide with your knees pressed up against either side of your chest, a light conversation is absolutely out of the picture. You’d consider it a feat to muster up anything other than splintered whines of your husband’s name and delicate pleas for him to slow down— though, truthfully, it’d be an even bigger feat if you managed to successfully convince Alhaitham of doing the latter. He hasn’t stalled or slowed his pace for even a fraction of a second because he, of course, is trying to replicate the night he very likely knocked you up exactly, and he just so happened to be absolutely railing you that night.
“You can certainly take more than this.” That’s all he offers when you beg him to slow down again. “I’ve discovered, met, and exceeded every last one of your limits myself, and this pace, this position, and this fervor hardly come close to any of those. I’m simply validating your claim before I take to preparing the spare room for our child.”
You gasp and let your head fall back against the pillow, defeated and overwhelmed in equal tandem by your husband’s delightful Mother’s Day plans.
Alhaitham only chuckles once, a satisfied smirk so faint on his lips that you almost don’t catch it at all. “You’ll be alright. We’ll have nine entire months to be gentle.”
zhongli
Zhongli has lived a normal human lifetime nearly ninety times over— yet, fascinatingly, he always insists he’s come nowhere close in experiencing everything life, nature, humanity, and civilization have to offer, an assertion you’ve always found downright impossible to fathom. How does somebody not get bored after six thousand years of life? You know people who are bored after just four years of working in the same career before they jump ship and try to find something, anything completely different.
He offers the exact same explanation every single time you once again ask how he still finds things to do, places to go, and activities to enjoy after being alive for so long— he always, always smiles softly and explains that he never gets bored with life because you’re in it, and you show him new things, new foods, and new ways to love and enjoy the world that he never even imagined prior to meeting you.
You’ll admit that you’ve found his reasoning somewhat hard to believe on a few separate occasions— like he’s seriously been alive for over six thousand years, yet he’s never tried red bean ice cream from Inazuma before? It’s not exactly a rare or expensive good. However, there are other times when you think you understand what he means, and his logic has never been more evident than today because you told your darling husband that you’re pregnant this morning.
“I’ve never been a father before,” Zhongli hums as he presses a wide circle of kisses all around the cusp of your tummy. “I’ve tutored and taught many, but I’ve never raised a child as my own from their very birth.”
“Does it make you nervous?” You grip his left hand a little tighter as his right comes to rub a soothing circle over the apex of your soft belly.
He pauses for a moment. “I see no reason to be afraid of new experiences, let alone ones I have you to guide me through. I’ve found that sampling life’s uncertainties and navigating its surprises provide far more enrichment than routine.”
You laugh. “I don’t think I can do much ‘guiding’ here, my love— I’ve never been a mother before either. I don’t know what I’m doing.”
Zhongli melts. How do you always know just how to tickle his heart with the most innocuous of statements?
“And that is exactly why I’m not nervous— because we’ll have each other to both learn from and learn alongside. I’ve spent the vast majority of my life being the teacher and not the student, so opportunities to learn with you excite me.”
All you can do is hide your face with your free hand, your cheeks warm and your grin obvious. Your husband chuckles and kisses a line down the bottom half of your tummy, down your hips, and all the way down, down, down until he runs into the fabric of your panties.
“I’ve read that intimacy during pregnancy has an array of positive effects for a mother,” Zhongli notes, gently sliding a hand down to tug your panties to the side. “We’ll have to try every last tip and wives’ tale, won’t we, my love?”
diluc
Completely opposite to that of Zhongli, Diluc’s perspective on celebratory sex on Mother’s Day is that it’s about as tired, cliche, and lazy as celebratory sex on a birthday, New Year’s Eve, or Valentine’s Day. Really, any other holiday where people feel the need to either supplement their actual present with sex because they fear what they really bought their spouse just isn’t good enough on its own or because they forgot to get them a present entirely.
Or so he says.
He’s always been of the opinion that love and intimacy expressed on a random day of the year without any special meaning bears more weight than celebratory holiday sex— why should sex be included as part of the celebratory experience when a married couple is expected to regularly display intimacy towards one another? You’ve teased him about this cynical, grumpy take plenty of times, but you’ve almost come to agree with him regardless— it’s hard to even have the energy for sex at the end of your birthday or on the evening of Valentine’s Day when you’re just so exhausted by everything Diluc planned for you during the day. Perhaps it’s entirely because he doesn’t take special occasions lightly that he sees no need to end the day on a cliche.
Well, there’s a first for everything.
“I thought you don’t do celebratory sex,” you whimper with a sharp inhale. You had meant for the statement to sound more teasing and alluring, but it’s damn near impossible to keep your composure when your husband’s spent the past hour and a half between your legs.
Diluc, for the first time in ninety minutes, actually pulls away from your slick, saliva-coated pubic mound to stare up at you over your tummy. How amusing— this is the smallest he’ll see your tummy for the next nine months, and something tells him he’s not going to miss it whatsoever.
“We’ve never celebrated Mother’s Day before simply because you were never a mother for any of them. Today is different— and of course this news deserves celebration.” That’s right— you did mention to Diluc that you’re pregnant this morning over breakfast, didn’t you?
You take advantage of this impromptu break to make eye contact with your husband, who hasn’t looked this… disheveled in quite some time. Bangs plastered to his forehead, nose and chin dripping with a mix of saliva and your fluids, and pupils blown wide with desire, this is a Diluc you don’t get to see very often— and you know how to revel in the treat.
“Making exceptions to your own rules doesn’t suit you.” There, that one actually sounded teasing.
He offers a sort of shrug in response. “I’d have to be devoid of all emotion entirely to not want to celebrate my wife’s body when she tells me it’s pregnant with our very first child.” He glides his soaked lips down the inside of your thighs elegantly and with purpose, taking care to stop just before where thigh meets labia to really relish in your scent.
“Besides,” Diluc murmurs. “I’d like to map out how your body looks now so I can properly appreciate how much lovelier you’ll look once you begin to actually show how well I’ve bred you.”
gorou
Gorou tentatively asks you to repeat yourself just to make sure that he heard you properly, which carries a good amount of irony given his exceptionally superhuman hearing. He just wants to make sure he heard you properly— telling him you’re pregnant on Mother’s Day? He can’t think of anything more perfect than that, so it’d be a shame if he just imagined you saying it— he’s dreamed of being a father for so long now that if you were to hit him with a “gotcha” now, he might faint from disappointment.
Realistically, he should’ve put two and two together three weeks ago, but leave it to your husband to miss something glaringly obvious without your explicit guidance or direction. It’s almost funny to think that, despite his keen sense of smell, taste, and hearing, his overprotective nature, and his well-developed common sense, it’s so easy for him to miss the elephant in the room and get distracted by something incredibly unrelated to whatever he’s supposed to be looking out for.
He should have known from the second he found himself growing more and more overprotective of you without any visible or tangible piece of evidence as to why— you weren’t sick, you weren’t injured, and you weren’t otherwise vulnerable… or so he thought. It wasn’t obvious to him at the time, but now that you’ve confirmed it for him… it makes perfect sense. His nose already knew you were pregnant then— he picked up in the slightest change in your hormone levels without even realizing it, and now that he knows you’re pregnant?
He won’t leave your side for a single moment these next nine months.
Apparently, his vow to stay by your side 24/7 started the very moment you first broke the news to him— with your husband pressed so close up against you, you wouldn’t be surprised if you two just simply combined. Gorou’s hips slap against your ass so roughly and so quickly the sound of skin making contact with skin bounces off the walls and fills your ears, almost threatening to drown out your husband’s elated rambling.
Almost, but not quite. Nothing will get him to stop talking once he’s already started running his mouth.
“I just— I’ve just wanted this for so long,” he pants, looping his hands around your thighs to press them against the front your belly. “It’s just instinct, I guess? I just— Archons— there’s no better way to spend my life than with a sweet wife and a big, big family of our cute little pups.” He’ll be sure to keep you pregnant now that the precedent has already been established— Gorou knows he’ll miss taking you doggy style when your belly gets too big to safely attempt such a position, but he’s sure he can figure out a nice, comfortable compromise.
“I’ll get lots of time off from work! It’ll be easy. I’ll spend every day taking good, good care of you and our family because that’s— that’s what good husbands do, right? I’ll get Thoma to teach me tons of nutritious meals for you because I only know how to prepare quick rations for troops,” Gorou notes with a sheepish chuckle before he hunches over your back and whimpers brokenly. Will you still be able to take his knot while you’re pregnant, or will it be too much for you? He can’t push you too far now that you’re the most delicate you’ve ever been, heavy with the promise of a big family, right?
“I love you so much,” he gasps, nails digging into your belly softly as he loses control of himself. “And I’ll be the best father possible!”
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diejager · 8 months
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psst! hi! are you willing to do a scenario where (civilian or soldier (your pick)) reader tries to run away and hide from yan!Ghost/konig
Failed Escape
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Pairing: Yan!König x reader & Yan!Ghost x reader
Cw: smut, DUB-CON/NON-CON, spanking, fingering, kidnapping, training/mind break??, isolation, tell me if I missed any. Cw: 0.9k
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König
Yan!König was meticulous in the location of your home, it was well-thought out and planned months prior to your taking. It’s a secluded cottage in the Austrian alps, between two imposingly beautiful mountains covered in green flora and cute wildflowers. A few fawns and deers would skip around your grounds, grazing on the fires and hydrated grass of your garden. It’s miles away from civilization, unpaved roads marking the way to the closest highway and other cottages within a mile or two.  
Yan!König who doesn’t bother to install extreme measures to your home because you’re housebroken, trained into loving you house and fearing to run. It doesn’t matter if you’re a normal civilian or a trained specialist, his sheer size made it impossible to run or defend against. But if you did try to run, ignoring all the blaring, red flags that bellowed in your mind about stepping outside the white-fenced walls, you’d wish you could outrun him. 
Yan!König’s ruthless in his punishment. If he caught you before you crossed the fence, he’d be more lenient with you. He would strip you down to your panties and lay you on his lap, hand striking your ass. He’d coo when you cried, his warm thumb rubbing soothing circles over your red cheeks, fingers dipping into your leaky cunt, his large digits hitting your spongy wall while you squirmed, his elbow digging into your back to hold you down. 
“Look at how wet you are, Maus, you like this don’t you? You like being spanked, ja?” 
If he caught you outside, your short legs failing to outrun him, König would be meaner, cruel even with his punishment. He has you tied and blindfolded in the cold and humid basement, bringing his gloved hand down on your naked slit. His slaps left your cunt slick and swollen, and you a crying and overwhelmed while he bullied his hard cock into you, fucking the anger and frustrations away. 
“It hurts, Maus? This is your punishment, take it!” 
Yan!König will have to spend additional time training you, utilising the wide arrange of tools in his well-equipped basement to help him train you. From different types of whips to metal and padded hand-cuffs, and from various sizes of dildos that fit the pre-programmed machine to a manual of torturous knots and binds to hold a person. König has all and everything to ensure that you’d be reeducated in ways of living and manners. 
Yan!König doesn’t do this because he enjoyed it - perhaps a lie with the sadistic glint in his eyes - he does it because he needed you to understand how much he cared about you, how much your life with him was a blessing and how much you could be happy with him. If only your training stuck.
Ghost
Yan!Ghost wouldn’t let you catch a glance of the world outside the four walls of your prison. He has locks drilled into the front and back door, some could be unlocked by a key and others by numbered and lettered combinations. He had every wind bolted shut with the occasional sliding windows for fresh air if you needed it, but they were all too small to squeeze through and too high for you to reach with anything but on the tips of your toes.
Yan!Ghost didn’t buy a house in some remote area of the British Isle, he found a rustic house in a calm and safe neighbourhood in Manchester, a pretty two-story home with a basement and newly-painted white fences around the house. Most neighbours were quiet and kept to themselves, it was another thing he made sure of before turning this place into a safehouse for both of you. He kept the house’s layout, but reworked the basement, building a third bedroom with a small kitchenette, a hotel-like living room and an even smaller bathroom fitting a single person at a time. 
Yan!Ghost who stopped you before you can reach the door, his bone-breaking hold on your wrist, wrenching you away from the hallway before throwing you onto the couch. He was fuming, face red with rage and narrowed eyes, his tall, imposing figure seemingly bigger and damning as he loomed over you with clenched fists. He might’ve been cruel and demeaning, possessive in an erratic and sporadic way, but he’d never lift a hand against you. Simon wouldn’t stoop as low as his father did to control his life. Granted, he used degradation and intimidation, but never physical violence.
“What ‘ave I told you, love?”
Yan!Ghost would force you back into the basement, imposing all the rules and regulations he had when he first took you, his words became the law and his hands the chains. He might let you have a few freedoms in your prison, but he would always be watching, either from the numerous cameras he installed in in the basement and around the house to keep and eye on you at all times, or from his seat beside you, an arm around your waist and his face buried under your head. 
Yan!Ghost suffered just as much as you were in these moments, having to subjugate both of you to this torture he played in the early days. Listening to you cry and bemoan your life before meeting him made his heart chip away while he shushed your pains, cradling you as he carded his fingers through your locks. Watching you flinch and stuttered when he approached you, his trembling hands inches from your shaking figure, red-rimmed eyes and puffy cheeks staring back at him while he tried coaxing you back into his hands to sooth your cries. It hurts how much you tried to escape his love and care, he was the perfect lover: gentle and patient.
“Why can’t you love me? Aren’t I enough?”
Taglist: @sae1kie @yeoldedumbslut @tallmanlover @distracteddragoness @vxnilla-hxrddrugs
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canthelpit0 · 23 days
Text
Enemies (with benefits)
Pairing: Cold!Chris x Reader
Word count : 1,489
Summary: Chris and reader have always been enemies ever since they’ve known each other. neither knew why they had this burning feeling in their gut. So one day they decide to fuck it out. Until, eventually doing it regularly
Warnings: smut, p0rn with plot, a LOT of plot, angst, name calling (bitch, slut, etc.), p in v, rough x, mentions of safe word (not used), rude/cold!Chris, degration, friend with benefits, awkward, (implied) RichKid!reader, no love (😔), unprotected, creampie, no after care, no use of y/n, no oc
(A/N: this is my first ever fanfic that I’ve posted on tumblr. So ya, I’m shitting bricks. Please give me feat back on my writing, and what I can improve. Also English is not my first language so I’m sorry for any mistakes. Hope you like it!! :D)
PT1 PT2 PT3 PT4 FINAL
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Ever since I can remember, I’ve known the triplets. The sturniolo’s and my family were always really close. And ever since I can remember, I’ve hated Chris.
Now, enemies was a harsh word. A bit of an exaggeration. It wasn’t like we were at war for opposing countries. We were more like rivals. In every aspect.
Sometimes it felt like the only reason Chris studied for school, was to beat my grade. He wasn’t really stupid, but he was definitely not book smart.
The problem wasn’t that. We’ve always lived normally, simply hating and avoiding each other. After all he was my longtime nemesis.
Until that one fateful night where we’d been at my house. My parents have a big business so they’d frequently be on business trips. And it just so happened that that night my younger siblings were not home, both of them being at their separate sleepovers with friends.
We’d been paired for some project. And naive me thought, that it’d be fine. We could be civil for a few hours. But I thought wrong. The hatred was too strong and the tension was too thick in the air.
Seemingly everything I did made him agitated. And vise versa.
Until he finally snapped and we got into a full fledged argument, wich turned into a yelling match. However it all went quiet when he crashed his lips onto mine.
Breathing heavily I had kissed back, hard. It was easier to battle about with a kiss, rather than screaming. And like hell was I gonna be dominated by Christopher fucking sturniolo.
So the night progressed. He had me, my face buried in the sheets babbling out nonsense and screaming his name. But not in anger like I usually would.
It had been months since that happened, and it still haunted me. The idea that it even happened. That his lips had been on mine, his dick literally inside of me, that I was literally under him, disgusts me to my core. But it didn’t matter. It was one of many times.
Sometimes it was a quickie, sometimes an all nighter. Sometimes Chris was dominant other times he was not. Sometimes it was at my place other times at his.
And it wasn’t like those cliché stories of friends with benefits where one fell in love. This felt more like an urge. Like neither of us wanted to actually hook up but we were irking to. This was better than having a yelling match. And on the rare occasions I was dominant it felt great making him shut up and take it. It felt equivalent to winning an argument. The whole point was to teach a lesson, and express annoyance and anger without directly doing that.
“Chris-“ I let out a sharp cry, even the pillow that my face was buried in didn’t really make the scream sound quieter.
His hips keep drilling into my core hitting all the right spots to make me weak in the knees.
Sex with him, objectively, felt good. In the moment. He knew how to please a woman. But he also knew that he was pushing it right now.
“Don’t fucking tell me to slow down.” He snaps his tone, and words as harsh as his breathing. “You have a safe word. Use it if you need to. And other wise, shut, the fuck, up.”
I only let out a sharp whine when he seems to pick up pace even more. He’s made a mess of me. We’ve been at this for hours. Literally.
I’ve come more times than I can count and Chris wasn’t showing any sign of stoping anytime soon.
My back arches perfectly, but I’ve been in this position for too long for it to be comfortable. Him leaning over my back occasionally leaving harsh slaps on my ass while his other hand stayed firmly im my hair.
His hand being tangled in my hair as he was both pulling it, but also pressing me down into the pillow under me.
I feel the ache in my cunt subside again, as a knot starts to form. I’m close, again, and I don’t know if I can keep going after.
“Chris” I scream his name loudly panting and moaning. “I’m- close” I can barely form a sentence. His thrust are hard enough to knock the air out of my lungs every time.
“Oh ya?” He harshly slaps my ass causing me to moan loudly. “How much more you think this pussy can take?” He huffs his tone ever so cocky.
He always did this. He liked being dominant and absolutely wrecking me as much as he can. And he knows I’m close to breaking, and that’s what makes it worse. I just know he gets a wired satisfaction out of exerting me.. using me, like this.
His hand stays firmly in my hair tugging harder. His other hand trailing from my ass to my clit as he starts to rub on it harshly.
I clench instinctively, my whining and moaning getting even louder. “I’m gonna-“ a harsh slap on my clit catches me off guard.
Chris keeps going. “Fucking slut. You like getting destroyed like this?” he mocks, his tone condescending as his pace doesn’t let up.
“Go on bitch, cum on my cock. Come again.” He urges. And the rubbing of his fingers on my clit and the relentless torture to my cunt is threatening to push me over the edge.
“Can I come in that pussy again?” He asks his voice coming out strained and harsh from the pleasure.
“Yes-“ I’m cut off, again. As i am physically not able to speak with the pace he’s going at.
And the combined pressure of everything pushes me over the edge. Suddenly the knot in my stomach snaps and my body goes limp after loud moans. He goes for a few more thrusts before I feel the familiar hot liquid fill my cunt.
After a minute where we catch our breaths he slowly starts to massage my scalp knowing he’s been pulling on it for at least half an hour straight.
He pulls out not really gently, but not harshly either.
Hook ups with Chris always felt like one night stands, when they were really regular.
I let my body fall limp fully laying on my stomach as I sigh, content in my position, not attempting to move.
I can practically feel Chris watching me.
Normally I wouldn’t be this much of a mess. But than again normally we didn’t go for hours. Normally Chris used a condom. But today was not one of those days.
Sometimes chris had enough common sense to at least pretend to care.
But right now he was just staring.
“You okay?” He asks his tone gentler and more quiet than usual. He knew he was pushing it, but did he really care tho?
I shiver as I feel his hand start to rub over my back. Ever so gently pinching the skin to ease some tension.
“Ya”
My breath is short as I’m still calming down not doing or saying anything else.
After a while I turn around slightly, wincing as I lay on my back. My back hurt from the previous uncomfortable position I was in.
I opened my tired eyes, looking up at him, my eyes meeting his. I knew I probably looked like a wreck right now. My hair a mess because of all the moving and position changes as well as his pulling. My face having dried mascara and tear stains on it from when I’d been crying.
I was too tired to even hide my body. I just turned around not bothering to hide my chest as I did, I was too fucked out to care.
His lips pursed, looking over my face. But he wasn’t concerned. But rather disgusted at the sight. He was glad he made me look like shit, but I could see in his eyes that he would much rather be anywhere else right now.
After sex was the worst for us.
The arguments leading up to it were normal. The sex itself was great. But afterwards…
Usually he’d leave. But today he had gone far. He’s done worse before. But every time he did he felt like he should give me proper after care. But I can see the annoyance radiating off of him, and I just know he does not want to be here.
And as harsh as it sounds, he couldn’t really care less what state he left me in. He’s told me multiple times.
“You can leave.” I mumble sighing. My throat felt horse from all the screaming, crying and moaning, that I’d been doing. I’ll need to get a water soon.
He gives me a simple nod, quickly changing, then going to my bathroom to fix his appearance.
And than he leaves.
The room is quiet. Nothing to be heard, nothing to be said.
Masterlist
A/N: hope you liked it, this was literally my first time writing smut🫣 also I don’t have a taglist yet, so i just added my moots. Tell me if u wanna be added, or removed :D
‼️please don’t copy my work/idea‼️
Taglist : @muwapsturniolo , @sturnad , @iluvm4ttsturni0l0 , @evie-sturns
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etirabys · 3 months
Text
meandering post about reading Orson Scott Card again
I've been offline starting at 9pm every day (except once. I was drunk at karaoke and asked for anons at 8:30pm) for six weeks, with the result that in befuddled boredom two nights ago I picked up Orson Scott Card's Songmaster from the house bookshelf.
I read Ender's Game and three sequels when I was a teen thought the books were mid. Since those are OSC's best works I assumed he had nothing more interesting to offer me and didn't try more of him for fifteen years, but Songmaster was compelling enough that I immediately afterwards picked up The Memory of Earth, the first book of a pentalogy.
TMoE is extremely my jam: after humanity blows itself up on Earth, AIs monitor thriving human civilizations in the planets that survivors managed to escape to, and suppress any tech that enables large scale violence by exerting low key mind control via satellites. But forty million years pass, many of the satellites break down, and the AI needs help from humans to restore capabilities. Because as its control wanes, people are starting to e.g. conceive of airplanes or bombs again, and override the injunctions against entering military alliances more than two edges of connection away.
The AI is worshipped as a god all over the planet, but the fourteen year old protagonist that becomes one of the AI's agents tells the AI from the beginning that he'll break with it if its morality seems wrong to him. I like the fourteen year old – unlike Ender or Songmaster's protagonist (adult minds piloting ten year old bodies), he's a normal gifted kid who's unpopular 50% due to his ego and big mouth and 50% because he's socially inept and offends people even when he's trying to be nice.
Songmaster is also partly about a permanent solution to large-scale violence, albeit through one guy who establishes a monopoly on violence and sweeps in pax galactica. Both it and TMoE are preoccupied with the eradication of suffering from evil / human violence, which is closer to my resonant frequency than narratives about defeating particular people or ideologies. At the moment I can't think of any other book with such an insistent focus on the matter than T.H. White's The Once and Future King. It's hard to make a compelling story out of, and I don't think Songmaster really succeeds, but TMoE's premise is well suited to explore that. (I'm also enjoying the matriarchal culture where everyone is expected to have multiple serial-monogamous marriages.) After reading 70% of TMoE last night I wrote:
Usually when I read fiction there's a small part of me going, how can I use this as fodder for my own growth, how can I remix or improve or react against this, how do the author and I measure against each other? (If the quality and content are at an anti-sweet spot, the small part becomes quite large and I feel all teeth towards the author.) But on occasion I read something so close that the absence of that measuring-feeling is its own sensation – ego departs, or at least is split across two bodies. There's just amity and recognition
And it's pretty interesting to feel this way about Card for, well, the reasons.
(If you're familiar with Card drama none of the following will be new to you; I'm coming to it fresh so the rest of this post is me going "uh... wow")
I vaguely knew he was a homophobic Mormon who'd gotten into fights about gay stuff, but I couldn't tell from the Ender books I read. But in Songmaster his issues spring off the page in such a weird way. Every fifth Goodreads review of this book is "Card, u gay?" because, well,
(One review, possibly from a fellow Mormon, that went "Card, it's so sinful of you to be this gay in your novel". Why did he write this book that would predictably make everyone mad...)
it's full of gay male desire. The protagonist (Ansset) is approximately a castrato and characters notice him sexually a lot. The first and only time Ansset has sex it's with a Kinsey 4-5 male character he loves, who's married to a woman but has fallen in love with Ansset. It turns out the drugs Ansset took to prolong his singing career painfully and only-kinda-figuratively explode your balls when you have your first orgasm and you'll never feel sexual desire again. (You'd think his loving teachers would have warned him of that, but, whatever, they didn't.) The other guy is literally castrated in punishment for inadvertently torturing a highly valuable castrato. It's pretty bald: GAY SEX IS ALMOST IRRESISTIBLY TEMPTING BUT YOU SHOULDN'T DO IT.
(Sidenote: both Ansset and the guy's wife are very close and have a "there's enough love to go around" attitude about the gay sex initially, before they go "wait Josif is a SERIAL MONOGAMIST... he can only love one person at a time... the moment he had the gay sex his marriage was destroyed". It's funny in a mildly stupid way that Card would set up this parable of homosexuality destroying lives and a marriage but almost everyone involved is peacefully ready to sail into an open marriage. I guess it makes sense if you want to say very clearly that THE GAY PART IS THE BAD PART)
which is fascinating to me, because... why would you tell on yourself like that
(81k also told me secondhand of an essay? interview? where Card openly says "we have to stand against legalizing gay marriage because everyone will get gay married and society will collapse", so that's informing my read of Songmaster as well)
I am pretty dang open about my personal life online but if I had a lot of feelings I thought were disgusting and immoral I would not write a novel dripping with those feelings before pointedly castrating the leads for them. Especially if it wasn't relevant to the actually highbrow themes of (checks notes) winning over your adversaries with kindness and never relinquishing your monopoly on violence. I would be so so so so embarrassed to let this go to print, it's so psychologically transparent, what was he thinking
(Well, I assume he's a very different person with different social incentives. For all I know, people in his church went "hey Orson we read your book and it's clear that you're gay but signaling strongly that you won't give into the gay feelings, we're here for you, it was really brave of you to publish this".)
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enden-agolor · 2 months
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Thingy I did for the Admins AU 🩵💚
Context:
Basically the context of this moment is it takes place a week or something after Jesse and Lukas get their powers. Lukas is far more contained with his. He controls them quite well but Jesse on the other hand.. struggles a *lot*. And the townsfolk see it too. They see how when Jesse gets high up in his emotions, he changes, and his irritation with not being able to control his powers only stresses him out and frustrates him more and that causes like the complete form shift and that puts Jesse through like, the worst stress imaginable. Is knowing he's changing in front of people and not being able to control it and he doesn't feel like the hero he once was at all. He feels like a monster.
Anyways there's a point in time where Jesse just doesn't show his face out in town as much because he's terrified of the judgement. He gets the same strange looks he did before he ever became a hero, back when he was a nobody, so he hides from those interactions. Well Lukas definitely notices, and he ends up taking Jesse out somewhere alone, just the two of them. He takes them both somewhere away from civilization, so Jesse can really practice his stuff.
The big thing that has Jesse losing control of his powers is all of his negative emotions towards himself, so it's definitely going to be a "love solves the problem" kind of deal. I like to think one of the big things they practice is Jesse's ability to fly and stuff, and Lukas, regardless of how much Jesse tries to find a different way, decides that the best way for Jesse to really learn is by letting him hold onto him. Because Lukas is a person with a fragile body that he *knows* Jesse would do everything in his power to keep safe. Jesse though, in his admin form, is very cocky despite his sad feelings so he's kind of a brat about it but Lukas is extremely patient with him, and uhh. Jesse reluctantly holds onto Lukas while he lifts up into the air. He's really huffy and embarrassed about it too because after that whole incident in the cave where Lukas took half of Jesse's powers so he could live, Jesse has developed an unimaginable crush on Lukas. Like he already liked him before but now he's sure he loves him, and he's scared of showing those feelings because of well, how he views himself now. So he's really scared of messing this up or making himself look like a fool in front of Lukas.
But! The plan kind of works, because Lukas talks to him while he flies and since Jesse is focused on his conversation and not his emotions towards the powers themselves, it eliminates that stress and has him calmy maintaining a steady control over his flight. And eventually they're just kind of lazily drifting over the landscape, Lukas holding onto Jesse, them both focusing on the scenery as the late evening arrives and the stars begin to shine.
At this time, Jesse is still in his full admin form, he's blue and his eyes glow an eerie turquoise. But eventually Lukas has him stop and Jesse and him come to a stand in the air, Jesse holding Lukas against him and they look at each other. Lukas tells Jesse that he's so proud of him, and to look and see how much he's grown in such short time. Jesse looks around and, though his face still looks so grumpy, he does realize that they've been flying for a long time with no mistakes.
They share some really kind words to each other, Lukas praising Jesse and Jesse very quietly mumbling his gratitude for Lukas and his patience with him.
And uhh for the first time since the cave, Lukas gives Jesse a nice sweet kiss. Jesse doesn't remember it in the cave. He doesn't remember Lukas kissing him, so this comes as a complete shock (he was suuuper out of it) but quite literally every ounce of negativity drains from his body and he slowly begins reverting back to his original self. In the picture he's still in his admins clothes, but his body looks normal, aside from the crazy messy hair which is an admin trait.
Anyways yeah this is the moment Jesse realizes he for sure loves Lukas. And that kiss, and the kind words they shared, immediately calmed him. But uh. They calmed him so hard that when they kiss again, they both actually start falling out of the sky, and Lukas falls away from Jesse's arms in shock and that's when Jesse gains full control of his flight ability and swoops down to grab Lukas up bridal style in his big strong arms.
Lukas is all like "my hero" (he has the ability to fly too, so he was in no real danger, but the moment caused Jesse to take action instantly and use his powers for good).
That alone helps Jesse realize that these powers *can* be used for good. He's still a big grumpy butt in this form, but he still is that same gentle and loving Jesse deep down.
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junkdrawerfics · 1 year
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Insomnia
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Jasper Hale X Reader
Summary: There's one thing the Cullens don't know about you and you try with every fiber of your being to make sure things stay that way, especially with your boyfriend, Jasper. His gift makes it a little hard though, making you stretch to unhealthy limits.
Word Count: 2677
Warnings: Insomnia, the effects of sleep deprivation, no beta
---
A heavy sigh escapes your lips as you lean against the lockers, welcoming the cold bite of the metal against your skin. Why did you come to school today? Every second that goes by, you feel like you’re walking deeper and deeper into a fog only surrounding you. It makes it hard to think, hard to process anything.
“Darlin’?”
You jump like a cat finding a cucumber when a deep voice breaks through your fog. As quick as you’ve moved in days, you spin around to find a familiar blond standing right behind you. Jasper. Out of habit, a smile slips onto your lips.
“Morning Jazz,” you murmur and wrap your arms around his waist.
Jasper doesn’t reply, just gently pulls you back so he can look at your face, his brow furrowed. You keep the smile up and try your hardest to push your emotions away, just focusing on how happy it makes you to see him. You don’t want him to worry. It feels like that’s all you do, make him worry, which honestly just makes you feel worse, so hopefully today you can play off the sluggishness clinging to you. It would be so much easier if he didn’t have his gift.
“Everything alright, darlin’?”
He might have caught on before you could think of hiding it, though. Stubbornly, you press on, giving him a nod and stretching up onto your toes to press a chaste kiss to his cheek.
“Everything perfect now that you’re here,” you throw out the cheesy line, which seems to be enough to distract him.
Jasper shakes his head, but an amused smirk pulls at the corner of his lips.
“So, are you going to walk me to class, cowboy?” You ask, closing your locker after you grab the books you need.
“It’d be my pleasure, ma’am.”
Your heart melts at his words, and your smile shifts into a soft grin as the blond loops your arm through his and takes your books. Such a gentleman. And lucky for you, all his previous concerns have disappeared. Hopefully you can keep it that way for the rest of the day.
It’s a mostly well-hidden secret you keep from the vampire coven. Ironically, Bella is the only one who knows about it, your insomnia. On a normal day, you can function well enough and get through school with little issue, but recently it’s been worse. Last night was particularly bad, and by that you mean you didn’t sleep at all.
You just don’t want Jasper or the others to find out about it. Not because you don’t trust them, or it’s some big, bad secret, of course. You just…You already feel so weak compared to them and all their amazing powers. You don’t feel the need to add to that, or worry them.
So, one day of hiding your fatigue isn’t too hard.
A week later, however, you feel like you’re falling apart at the seams.
You’re sitting in history class, trying to listen to whatever your teacher is saying about the civil war, and then the next moment, you’re jolting awake to the school bell. The shrill ringing sends pulses of pain through your head. They crash on you like waves, and you can’t breathe, can’t even open your eyes without nausea sweeping through you.
“Are you alright, Miss (L/n)?”
Vaguely, you can hear your teacher’s voice, but he sounds miles away. It feels like there’s cotton stuffed into your ears, which somehow makes the ringing in your head even louder. Despite the pain, and the sudden urge to throw up, you nod your head and slowly shuffle out of the room. Out of the room and into the loud, loud hallway.
“Hey (Y/n)!”
You flinch. Why are they screaming right in your ear? Everything in slow motion, you turn, eyes squinted but unable to make out the blurry figure jumping in front of you. Why are they moving so slow? Or are you moving slow? Why can’t you see their face?
The nausea comes crashing back over you, and you have to press a hand against the nearest wall to keep yourself upright. The person, you assume you know them, asks you something. What are they saying? The words mix and blend, getting lost and muffled in the cotton. Brow furrowed, you try to get them to repeat themselves, but your tongue feels heavy in your mouth, like sand. You press a hand to your forehead, the pounding becoming more like someone taking a hammer to your skull. Everything feels so heavy, so loud, so…so…
Your head hits the tile before you can hear the surprised shrieks ringing through the hall.
---
Jasper jerks when he hears a loud scream sound from another hall across the school.
“What was that?” Alice asks, earning a few weird looks from the passing students. They hadn’t heard it, of course.
The blond vampire shrugs, but something uneasy starts to build in his chest. An accident on school grounds could mean blood, and losing control here would be a one way ticket to leaving Forks, leaving you. He can’t bear the thought.
“Should we go check it out?” Alice looks at him, gold eyes gleaming with concern. The same thoughts are running through her mind.
“No,” Jasper says tightly, lips pursed.
The ravenette nods in agreement, so the two continue towards their class. The uneasiness doesn’t go away, though. All Jasper can think about is you, where you might be, if you’re okay. You’d been acting strange the past week, and it only makes it worse that he can’t seem to get a grip on your emotions. It’s like you’re hiding them from him. That in itself worries him, but he trusts you, knows you’ll talk to him if you want to. He won’t push. Yet.
Jasper tries to put these thoughts out of his head as their algebra class starts. Though he doesn’t need to focus in the class (they had taken it several times at this point), keeping appearances is important to the Cullens. It is difficult though when images of you flitter through his head each time the teacher starts to drone.
Things come to an abrupt halt when the door flies open. Everyone jumps in their seats when it slams loudly against the wall.
Alice and Jasper exchange a look when Edward appears at the front, offering a sheepish smile before quickly talking to the teacher in a hushed voice. One only the vampires and he can hear.
“Jasper Hale and Alice Cullen have been requested at the office. There’s been an…incident,” Edward says in a calm, smooth voice. The teacher doesn’t even question him, just gestures for the pair to go.
“What’s going on, Edward?” Alice demands once they reach the hall. There were no visions, nothing about an accident with the family, so she feels horribly caught off guard.
Jasper walks a few paces ahead of his siblings, overwhelmed by the concern and shock rolling off of Edward. It’s not like him to project his emotions so loudly, and it sets the blond on edge. If he was feeling uneasy before, now he’s on the brink of panic. Had something happened to Bella? Was it good idea for him to be here if so?
“Bella is fine,” Edward assures him from behind, a hint of hesitation creeping into his voice as he continues, “It’s…It’s (Y/n).”
Jasper stops dead in his tracks. He whips around, wide eyes ablaze.
Both his siblings take a step back, unfamiliar with the wild, unbridled look on the blond. His careful composure is cracking. Things are different with you, they always have been. Despite having the ability to sense and influence emotions, Jasper struggles to contain himself when it comes to you. Everyone felt the shift when they met you. They had all been ecstatic to see Jasper’s more reserved nature slip away around you, but they never considered what else that could entail.
“She’s okay, Jasper,” Edward is quick to try and calm him, “She’s just resting in the nurse’s off-”
In the blink of an eye, he’s gone. Off to find you.
“You probably should have waited on that detail,” Alice murmurs, a touch of amusement in her words, “It’s nice to see how much he cares about her, though.”
Edward nods, but he can’t ward off the concern that pulls his lips into a thin line. Alice puts a hand on his shoulder, squeezing softly before giving him a tug towards the office.
“Let’s go,” she insists, “and tell me what happened on the way, okay?”
---
You’re just waking up when Jasper rushes into the room. In less than a second, he is kneeling at your side, jaw clenched, eyes scanning every inch of you for injuries.
“Hey Jazz,” you croak, throat dry and scratchy.
Those wild amber eyes finally meet yours, and it feels like a punch to the gut, worse than the headache still clinging to you. They are filled to the brim with untamed concern and glazed over with exhaustion. But he can’t get tired. The thought makes you cringe. You did this, he’s feeling your emotions. Why did you let it get this far?
The building distress quickly fizzles out, replaced by a warmth, a sense of contentment. It’s unnatural, certainly Jasper’s gift, but you close your eyes anyways and let it take over. It is a welcomed break from the torrent you’ve been living through.
“Sorry if I scared you,” you break the small silence building between you, peaking an eye open to look at him again, “Guess the cat’s out of the bag, huh?”
Jasper nods curtly, but doesn’t say anything. You take that as the sign to keep talking. He deserves an explanation.
Starting with a deep breath, you hesitantly begin, “Well…I have insomnia. I um, it’s hard to fall asleep sometimes, and when I do, it’s hard to stay asleep.” You chew on your bottom lip. It almost sounds ridiculous, it’s like you don’t know how to sleep. You basically don’t. “You could say I’m going through a rough patch right now.”
One of Jasper’s hands covers yours, which you were fiddling with. His fingers interlace with yours gently, thumb smoothing over your knuckles.
“Darlin’...when was the last time you slept?”
It takes you a moment to think. Whenever things get bad, your memory is the first thing to go in the trash.
“Probably like, I mean, if we’re talking a decent amount of sleep, that was probably, probably a week ago?”
Jasper takes in a deep breath, jaw clenching once again. His grip on your hand tightens, not enough to hurt, but enough for you to know he’s distressed.
“I’m okay, though, I’ve been dealing with this for years,” you smile at him softly in reassurance.
Exhaustion is slowly creeping back towards you, tugging at your mind like an annoying little tick you can’t get rid of. He must notice too, because he suddenly looks around for a nurse, one of which is standing near the doorway to keep an eye on the two of you.
“May I take her home? She’ll be needin’ some rest after all of this.”
The nurse seems to hesitate, but you notice a small shift in her expression before she offers a warm smile and concedes, “Of course, hun. Make sure she gets home safe, we’ll give her parents a call.”
You go to get up, but are denied the chance to stand when Jasper quickly sweeps you up bridal style. A squeak escapes your parted lips, all the while a small grin tugs at the blond’s lips. You cling to his shoulders, squirming slightly, but his grip just tightens.
“I can walk on my own, you know,” you grumble and hit his chest weakly, “Don’t go to any trouble for me.”
The small twitch of his lips turns into one of his fully cocked smirks and he raises a brow at you, “Trust me, darlin’, it’s no trouble. If you don’t recall, I’m stronger than I look.”
You pout at the smugness in his voice. Stupid vampire. Stupid super strength. And he totally used his gift to convince that nurse to let you go. If you had any energy left, you’d probably find something snide to say, but all you want to do is curl into his cool embrace and fall asleep. Just one full night of sleep.
“Is she okay?”
Alice?
“You gave us a real fright, girlie.”
Yep, that’s Alice.
You offer an embarrassed smile, “Sorry, things got a bit out of hand, I guess.”
“You passed out in the hall.”
And Edward, of course. Makes sense how they found out now.
“I’m taking (Y/n) home so she can rest,” Jasper is quick to explain, “You two can head back to class.”
You hear a snort from your best friend, but she doesn’t pose an argument. She must be worried too, but it would look weird for her to leave. It’s bad enough that you’re dragging Jasper out. It’s a relief he offered though. Because there’s no way you could get home without a car, since both your parents are working.
“Can we um, can we take it slow, Jazz? Kinda nauseous,” you grumble, burying your face in his sweater.
“Of course, darlin’.” He presses his lips to your hair and the journey starts.
You let your eyes close, equal parts lulled and dizzied by the steady sway of Jasper’s steps. Despite taking it slow, it still feels like you reach your home in no time. When you open your eyes next, you’re right in front of your house. Jasper silently asks for your keys. You fish them from your pocket with trembling fingers. He glides into the house, kicking the door shut behind him as he carries you to your bedroom. With a gentleness beyond human, the blond settles you down on the bed.
You curl up under your comforter as he proceeds to speed around, gathering everything you could possibly need. Food, water, extra blankets. You wouldn’t think based on the way he presents himself that Jasper is actually the biggest, softest teddy bear. You don’t think you’ve met a kinder soul.
When everything is in its place, Jasper settles down on the edge of the bed. He glances around, as if looking for something he can do. You reach out to grab the hem of his sweater, bringing those gold eyes down to you.
“Can you stay? Cuddle?” You mumble with your best puppy dog eyes.
Jasper smiles softly, not one of his smirks or fanged grins, just one of his smiles that he reserves just for you, “Why, of course. Anything for you, darlin’.”
The blond slips under the blankets and leans against the backboard, shifting so you can curl into him, head on his lap. The exhaustion that has been lurking around you seems to be just on the edge, so close to letting you sleep, but something in your chest won’t settle. Him being here helps. You feel safer when he’s next to you. It feels like you didn’t even know the meaning of peace until you met Jasper.
The vampire senses the quick succession of your emotions. He tenderly threads his fingers through your hair and focuses on detangling the strands as he does the same to your emotions. For each one, he replaces them with something comforting to help you sleep. Safety, love, everything warm.
You melt into Jasper, the ache in your chest finally easing. 
“I love you,” you all but whisper, eyes fluttering closed.
He leans over, pressing one final kiss to your forehead. His lips brush your skin as he murmurs, “I love you too, now get some sleep.”
You giggle sleepily and bury your face back into his lap. The feeling of his fingers in your hair slowly lulls you to sleep, one you willingly give in to. And for the first time in a week, you stay asleep. All thanks to a certain Jasper Whitlock.
---
Love me some Jasper Whitlock. I felt like writing this because of my experience with insomnia, and I thought it would be interesting how that would work with Jasper's gift.
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munariplans · 5 months
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36 hours | natasha romanoff
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synopsis: set between civil war and black widow, your love for natasha, and her patience for your return, is tested beyond what the both of you had ever gone through before.
natasha romanoff x spider!reader
word count: 3.9k words
a/n: this is a bit messy but i felt the need to draw a general timeline for the characters of is there someone else? and your sweater. i admit i have grown a sort of attachment for the two from there, but i also wanted to know if you guys want more stories / blurbs / headcannons for these two, or whether i should try new things. let me know?
masterlist
36 hours. 36 hours to bring in a known fugitive, a possible terrorist, and his dear accomplice steve rogers. it was barely enough time. 
and here tony was, making you wait outside of a window of an apartment in queens, waiting for the perfect time to, in his words, swing in and show the kid what he’s made of. you remembered telling him that you would show him what you were made of if he didn’t make it quick. 
you dared to sneak a look into the bedroom the moment tony managed to sneak the kid away. he was barely fifteen. but the impressive speed that he caught his jumbled, homemade suit with when tony opened the attic door showed skill no normal fifteen year old possessed. 
“you’re spider-boy?” 
“...spider-man.” the boy replied, and at tony’s snap of his fingers, you slipped in, standing behind him for support as the boy gawked at your entrance. 
“mm,” tony remarked, “this is our spider. you see her in a onesie like yours?”
the boy took time to rake his eyes through your advanced technical suit, crafted through years of precision and “user”-testing in the fights and missions you had managed to get injured from. every flaw was covered, every inch of space for injury accounted for. 
you looked past tony to the video of the boy saving a car from crashing onto a bus, before swinging away at lightning speed. “how’d you figure out the perfect formula for the tensile strength?”
“i…”
“i like the goggles too,” you snatched the suit away from tony’s amused smirk, “good attempt at keeping the focus. sensory overload, right?”
the boy nodded. “you’re just like me. you get me.”
“i get you.” you replied, “but you’re in dire need of an upgrade.”
you stepped back this time, and watched as tony began his over-explanation, oversimplification, of the situation at hand. the kid watched with wide eyes, clinging on to every word he said, while you rubbed the material of his homemade suit between your fingers, wondering how you were going to teach him every single upgrade and function of the new suit you had designed just for him in 36 hours. 
36 hours to capturing steve and bucky, and 36 hours to fixing things with natasha. 
you couldn’t wait. 
-
“i still think tony’s going a little overboard,” natasha muttered to you, arms crossed at the back of the quinjet. 
you approached, the low hum of the jet preventing you from hearing her clearly earlier. she continued, “he’s ridden with guilt. he’s not thinking clearly.”
“but he’s still right.” you sat next to her, the atmosphere tense. you had been having this argument even since the idea had popped into tony’s head. “and you’re still here.”
“because i think the other side is more mistaken, not because he’s right.”
“steve is the one going overboard. he’s blinded by the love he has for his friend.” 
“...weren’t you blinded by love before?” natasha accused, “for me, all those years ago?”
you were stunned for a moment. natasha knew she made a valid point. but then, you reaffirmed, “it’s different. steve made a mistake, we shouldn’t be the ones deciding who lives and who dies. i should’ve forced him to sign the accords when i had the chance.” 
the sight of the airport drew nearer and nearer. in front of you, you saw peter fidget nervously in his new upgraded suit. 
you were wrapping webs round and round the suddenly enlarged ant-man, one of his hands gripping rhodey. with an agreement for peter to strike ant-man’s legs, the giant soon fell to his knees with his entire lower half webbed, groaning when the war machine broke free from his hold. 
in your peripheral vision, you saw natasha running after steve and bucky, her words ringing in your mind as you instructed peter to finish off ant-man from getting back up again. a thumbs-up was sent his way when he did, the smile on his face reaching his ears. 
weren't you blinded by love before? 
you hoped she would do the right thing, as you returned your attention to helping tony take down wanda and clint.
but even as you fought, her words kept coming back to your head, and by the time steve and bucky were mere seconds away from the quinjet, you made up your mind to zip to natasha to check in on her. 
weren’t you blinded by love before?
you watched in horror as she stunned the black panther, him spasming and dropping to his knees. you watched with even more horror as she let the fugitives go, steve helping bucky climb into the quinjet and starting the engine. when steve shut the latch of the jet, he made eye contact with you hanging off the hangar, and nodded in thanks. he knew you were letting him go, too. 
mostly, you were even more horrified at your automatic reaction to catch t’challa from lunging at her, forcing him to the ground as his claws barely missed her face. in consequence, his own claws tore through your suit instead, the vibranium stronger than the nano-technology defences you had designed the suit with. 
you seethed in pain as the claws came back doused with blood, the burning on your back sure to leave a definite scar as it hit the cold air. 
you struck a web to his face, before throwing him off of you and quickly webbing him to the wall of the hangar. 
natasha felt your hands shaking her just moments later, still in shock that you had jumped in to help, and save her. 
“the webs are not going to hold him for long, nat,” you said when her eyes managed to refocus on you, “and you just obstructed justice. you need to go, now.” 
“i…i couldn’t let them…” she stuttered. 
“i know, i know,” you assured her. behind you, t’challa was breaking loose. “i’ll stay here and explain everything to them. but you need to run, and hide, for a while. tony told me he was planning to send anyone helping them to the raft. i can’t let you go there.” 
“what about you?” her hands tried to stop the blood seeping through her fingers from your back, but you were firm. 
“i’ll be okay. i’ll come find you after i’ve settled everything here and it’s safe for you to come back.”
“promise…?” natasha knew you were right, but her heart was saying otherwise. how could she possibly bear to leave you behind and deal with her consequences? how could she go anywhere without you by her side? how would she know you’ll come find her again?
“i promise. i love you.” you left room for no argument. 
she was gone by the time the black panther broke free, the ghost of the feeling of her lips against yours still replaying in your mind. 
ross’ face was possibly on the verge of exploding, listening to tony’s recounting of events and your, arguably non-convincing reasoning, of why chasing natasha would be a fool’s errand. 
“her hand slipped. she was supposed to stun bucky, hit t’challa.”
“that’s not what t’challa said. and that’s why you’re handcuffed to the table now.” ross called through your bluff, “you’re lucky you’re not sitting in a cell in the raft at all.” 
the chains against your handcuff clinked the table as you sighed, waiting for your own course of beration and punishment from the team.
somewhere out there, you hoped natasha was safe, and that she had successfully escaped ross’ team sent out to arrest her. 
– 
years ago, a few nights after you and natasha had made your relationship official, she had asked you where you would live, if you could live anywhere in the world. 
“norway,” you replied. 
“why?”
“i don’t know. seems like a nice place to be. it’s calm, quiet, relatively crime-free.”
“then you would be out of a job, you know?” natasha teased, her heart skipping a beat as you let out a laugh. 
“i’ll find something else,” you assured her, “i’ll survive.” 
you turned to her then, prompting the same question she had asked you. she had replied, “anywhere with you.” 
– 
now, you were currently hinging on the sole fact that all roads and clues pointed you to her being in norway. 
it had been six months since the events of the team’s civil war, a week since you had begun using a fake passport to get on flights, and three hours since you have been driving along the gravel road where her trailer was supposed to be. 
truth be told, you were nervous. you were afraid of natasha’s safety, and you worried whether she was blaming herself for losing the family she had grown to love in the past few years. and selfishly, you were mostly nervous if she had forgotten you and started a new life altogether. 
but natasha no longer lived in the trailer by the time you got there; you found out upon hiding and attacking the first person that entered the trailer that wasn’t her. when he choked out bitterly that she had left just an hour before you arrived with another woman, your heart sank. 
they had boarded a jet and flew off to find someone. he had been helping her throughout her being in hiding. he bothered to mention that she talked about you all the time. he told you that she was losing more hope of you coming back day by day
doesn’t matter. she has someone else now. 
“is she…is the girl she’s with…” you stuttered for the first time in your life. the man across from you removed the ice pack he was using to nurse the bruise you gave him. 
“i don’t know. didn’t seem like it, though.”
you nodded, at a loss of what to do. now what? you came to find her, she’s gone, you don’t know where or how else to look for. and she likely has someone else now, too. 
what if natasha didn’t want you back?
mason looked at you then, almost in pity. you felt very bad for punching him to get information out of him. 
“for what it’s worth, with the technology you have in your suit, i’m sure i can help link it to the approximate whereabouts of the aircraft.” 
you looked up to him with hope, nervousness bubbling in your stomach again. “a-are you…?”
“fuck it, i’m sick of natasha bemoaning about missing you everyday. i’m going to help you find her.”
-
natasha sat by the oak-coloured bench as she stared across the table to yelena, equally donning a new getup as she. downing yet another bottle of beer, she wondered if yelena deserved to know about you, or whether she was only putting you in more danger. but then, she wondered selfishly, if you were even bothered to come find her at all.
it’s been six months after all. six months without her must have been pretty peaceful for you, with all the storms and misfortune she felt she had brought into your life. maybe it was for the better that you had chased her away. maybe you had wanted her to go, so you could move on with the life you had always wanted for yourself. 
fuck. the alcohol was making her want to cry. everything about you made her want to cry. natasha missed you so much. the coldness of the spot in bed beside her each night, one less coffee mug she shared each morning, the empty space beside her when she needed someone to hold her. 
she never knew how dependent she had gotten on you, until you had to be separated. you have truly changed her, inside and out, and while natasha could complain about it otherwise, deep down in her heart she knew she would not have it any other way. 
how long more did she have to wait?
yelena gave her a weird look, and natasha excused herself to the bathroom. she couldn’t let her sister see her like this. 
-
but in the five minutes that she was gone, natasha came back to an empty bench, with the shop she had bought the beers from deserted and the shutters shut. it was as if the owner had suddenly upped and ran.
upped and ran. fuck. they found her. 
grabbing the gun holstered to her side, natasha called out slowly, “yelena…?”
silence. “yelena?”
nothing again. her aircraft was still there, and when she approached slowly, wary of her surroundings and any widows, the crunch her boot made with a branch underneath triggered the loudest scream she had ever heard. 
in the next second, a blur of two figures landed before her, wrestling to get the upper hand. yelena was screaming with all her might, and above her…above her, natasha could recognise that suit anywhere. 
it had her initials carved in the inner lining of the heart area, after all. 
“where is she?!” your voice sounded raspier, deeper than she remembered. you sounded tired and wary, too. 
but the hands pinning yelena down said otherwise, your strength overpowering hers as yelena tried desperately to free herself from under you. “where is what–asshole–!”
“where is natasha!” you pressed down on her neck, and at the choke yelena let out, the switch finally flipped in natasha. 
she screamed your name, from metres away, and at the immediate recognition, you faltered, and shot your gaze to her direction. she knew you couldn’t see her clearly under the low light of the broken street lamps, but it was her. 
the next thing you knew, though, the woman under you had wrenched a hand free and shot you in the neck with a widow bite. you cursed at the sting from the shock, but then all at once, darkness ensued. it definitely wasn’t the same widow bites natasha had designed over the years. 
-
“you nearly killed my wife, yelena!”
“how was i supposed to know that was your wife? i didn't even know you had a wife!”
-
when you woke to, it was yelena, the woman who nearly tried killing you, that was by your side. when the world stopped spinning for a while, you recognised that you were in the very aircraft mason had told you about. 
“hi,” you groaned lowly, fingers reaching for the spot that the blonde had shot the widow bite at. it was wrapped in a bandage.
“welcome back, my sister-in-law.” 
this time, she offered you a hand, and you took it gratefully to shake it. “sorry i shot you earlier. to be fair, you did try to kill me too.”
“fair game.”
the door slid open then, and at the sight of natasha entering, holding onto a pile of makeshift medication and bandages, your heart managed to stop beating for a while, if possible. 
her hair was longer, face a little more tired, worry lines etched into skin that was not so taut anymore. but still, she was your natasha, and she never looked more ethereal than in that moment. 
yelena had to step out of the room at the ferocity and aggressiveness that natasha engulfed you with, the squeals that left her sister’s mouth one that she would never have imagined hearing. 
“you came back, you came back!” natasha said in between tears of joy, as you hugged her even tighter. the nights with her pillows never replaced her body pressed against yours. 
“of course, i promised you,” you reassured, “i’ll come find you.”
“i thought–i thought–you’d given up, or i should give up,” she said between hiccups, sobs leaving her now at the incredulity of it all, “i thought you finally realised you were better off without me and–”
“nat,” you pulled her away to press a kiss firmly to her lips, “i would never do that.”
“i know. but you were gone so long and i waited. i waited and waited and…it was a long six months.”
you laughed, letting her lips chase yours once again. “it really was.”
when the two of you finally settled down and came back to earth, you snuck a glance at yelena, who you currently wished you had met in better circumstances, rather than nearly killing her to get to natasha. 
“guess i didn’t get on the best footing for meeting your sister, huh?” you whispered to natasha.
she nudged your side, prompting you to smile at yelena. she gave you a weird look, but awkwardly smiled back. “yeah, and you know what’s even crazier?”
“what?”
“you’re about to meet my parents, too.”
-
you sat awkwardly beside natasha at the dinner table in melina’s house, shifting uncomfortably as yelena just burst out screaming that the “family” natasha had always told you was made up of red room agents, was always real to her. 
you thought she looked like a child throwing a tantrum. then, you bit the inside of your cheek and berated yourself for thinking so, because yelena of all people, was a woman who never did get a childhood at all. she deserved at least this. 
under the table, you felt natasha hold your hand for support. you squeezed it gently. she’s got you. 
you soothingly wrapped around her trembling fingers, still. because as strong as natasha was, biting back and spitting at her “parents” then, she was still hurt, and a teardrop had fallen to the side of her face that she had quickly wiped away. the teardrop no one would have noticed, except you, who had been wiping almost all of her tears away in the years that you had been together.
later on, when your spider-senses overloaded with the impending arrival of dreykov’s men, while natasha and melina argued over their plan to finally take him down, you found it hard to ignore the crying coming from yelena’s room. and you felt even worse for what you were going to subject her to later. 
natasha entrusted you to deal with taskmaster, while she handled the big man himself. you were about to argue, fearing for her safety and protection, but with a warning glance from her mother on your possibility of doubt over natasha’s own skills, you kept quiet. you had to trust your wife. 
but what natasha failed to tell you, however, was that taskmaster was more competent, and dangerous, than all the other widows involved. she had told you that they would be difficult, sure, but you hadn’t expected difficult to include you struggling to catch your breath, making up new moves on the fly to prevent the human weapon on copying your combat style almost perfectly. they had used your agility and swiftness against you, and you were convinced that had they had your webs, you would almost certainly be done for, too. 
“i don’t want to kill you,” you wheezed as you managed to sneak a move to tumble them to the ground, but the way in which they glared back at you and aimed a launcher right at your face, told you all that you needed to know. the feeling wasn’t mutual. 
with the help of natasha’s father in finally locking the taskmaster in a cell momentarily, you took the opportunity to find her, even as explosions rang through your ears and the shaking of the base showing the impending signs of doom. 
– 
you held her as the both of you free fell through the skies, natasha’s fingers holding on to you as if you would disappear from her once again. 
“i’ve got you,” you murmured into her skin. she nodded slowly, telling you she understood. 
you deployed the parachute when you reached closer to the ground. natasha had gotten very good at getting over her fear of heights, as she latched on. years ago, she was still screaming in fear each time you brought her swinging through the city after your dates and missions together. now, only a small exhale left her lips as you landed her softly, safely, on the ground. you smiled to yourself at the change you only noticed now. 
“i still have…i have to…” she gestured towards dreykov’s daughter, the taskmaster, behind you. you wish you had known. 
you nodded understandingly. natasha was kind, kinder than anyone you knew. she was just like that. “go. do what you have to do to set her free. i’ll stay behind, in case you need help.”
“after she almost knocked you out?” a hint of a playful smirk, you jabbed her side lovingly. 
“i was pulling my punches! you told me not to kill her.”
natasha snuck a kiss on your cheek. “i know. my hero.”
– 
you and natasha exchanged quiet smiles throughout the ride back to ross’ prison, or custody, wherever it was. it didn’t matter. she had taken down the demons of her past, and she had gotten you back. you had found her, and you were never letting her out of your sight ever again. 
weren’t you blinded by love before? nobody else mattered. not what ross had to say, not what tony had screamed at you for, not what steve or anyone else tried to convince you to do. being blinded by love for natasha was never a bad thing for you. 
“i never told you, but i like your new suit,” you whispered, holding her hands through your handcuffs. 
she hid the blush appearing on her cheeks. “i know. your hands said enough.”
“and your family too. your dad’s a character, and your mom’s really strong. stronger than me, that’s for sure.” 
“and yelena? my sister?” she found a way to interlace her fingers with yours, to the disgust of ross’ agents. you didn’t care.
“i like her the most. she reminds me of the best parts of myself. she’s humble, kind, funny, and sensitive, not in a bad way. and she’s like you, headstrong and stubborn.” natasha suddenly felt you slipping something into her fingers. a piece of paper. she kept it skilfully from the prying eyes of the agents in the car.
“just the way you like it.”
“you bet,” you leaned back, feet “accidentally” kicking ross and causing a momentary distraction for his guards to aim their guns at you all at once. natasha took it as her signal to open the note. 
there, scrawled in yelena’s handwriting, was an address that she had picked from the many safehouses you had so many years before. it was in new york, not far from where you and natasha lived. you had slipped her a burner phone before she left, too, as you informed natasha in your cells later on. 
“i know it’s all real for you, too,” you reassured the redhead, “and i never got to apologise for leaving you, and your avengers family, for so long. i wanted to make it up to you. we’ll make sure yelena is never far, and you will always have her by your side from now on.”
natasha felt her cheeks hurting from the smile she was sporting. “you know, i have spent my whole life trying to go home. to go back to how things were, to undo all that i have done in the past. and i managed to do just that, just a few days ago. take down dreykov, come back to my family, go back to my childhood home. but somehow, all of that was not home anymore. at least not the home i envisioned myself to go back to.”
“and what is the home you envision now?”
“you. i come back to your arms, and it is home now. nothing else compares.”
your fingers ghosted the wedding band on your ring finger subconsciously, scrunching your eyes and trying hard to fight back the tears from falling as you listened to her declaration.
36 hours or six months. the timing never mattered. you and natasha would find each other, and come home to each other's love, regardless.
543 notes · View notes
shotmrmiller · 5 months
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Happy trails, John.
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A/N: I've been meaning to write the captain my captain but he's my holy grail—look but not touch even though I'd beg him to let me make him lonches at 4 am. Also, I watch Die Hard every Christmas because it IS a Christmas movie, argue with your demons. In response to @glitterypirateduck's prompt thing which inspired to me to write something cute and civilized.
“Just once, I’d like a regular, normal Christmas. Eggnog, a fucking Christmas tree, a little turkey. But no. It’s always ‘Die Hard’.”
“John, love. You’re being overdramatic. It’s just the holidays with my parents.” 
You rolled your eyes as you stuffed your clothes into the luggage bag, preparing for the trip.
“I know, love, but I wanted to spend a quiet Christmas with my wife— but no, the in-laws have to call with their ‘Come out to the coast, we’ll get together, have a few laughs…’ ", he said with a mocking lilt in his voice.
You snicker and say, “I promise we’ll leave as soon as it’s polite.” 
“Sure, sure, I go out and keep the world safe just so when I can get a little reprieve, it’s to not spend it alone with my wife. I’m feeling a little fuckin’ underappreciated.”
You closed the zipper on your bag and went over to the bathroom where John was grumbling his displeasure. Looping your arms around his waist, cheek to his shoulder blade you say, “It’s just Christmas, hun. We’ll have New Year's all to ourselves and we can even have the boys over to celebrate. I’ll even tell you what I got you for Christmas.”
That seems to distract him a bit, as he turns his head a tad with a curious tilt.
“I bought you a Lagavulin 16-year aged single malt scotch.”
His eyes warm with appreciation and he lets out a resigned sigh.
“Right, then. Let’s get this over with.”
Stepping out of the bathroom, you turn to look at the time. 
“Jesus Christ, John! We’re gonna need a miracle to get to the airport on time!”
You’re hastily grabbing your bags, yanking them off the bed and you see John on the phone.
“John! Get your bag—”
Suddenly, there are tires screeching outside on the driveway. John walks past you with his bag and picks up yours as well, before jerking his head at you towards the front door. 
“You wanted a miracle. I give you— The TaskForce 141”, John says, tossing the bags in the trunk of a truck that has Ghost, Johnny, and Gaz in it.
You don’t even care to question why they’re here— you just hop in the back seat immediately and buckle up.
John’s foot is barely inside the truck when it’s speeding off, tires screeching on the pavement. The entire drive has you almost nauseous with the jerky turns and harsh brakes. At a particularly abrasive step of the gas that has your neck jerking back towards the headrest of the seat, you turn towards John with a white-knuckle grip on the driver and passenger seat— you ask “Who’s driving this car? Stevie Wonder?!”
Johnny, sweet Johnny turns with a confused furrow on his brow and says, “Whad’ya mean, lass? It’s just L.T.” 
You’re at the airport in no time with the no-question illegal speed Ghost drove at, and you’re stumbling out of the vehicle with shaky legs. At least you made it.
Gaz grabs the bags from the trunk and places them on the floor but you’ve already run off to check in before it’s too late. John thanks Ghost for the help and after Johnny is rolling his window down— “I heard you’re going to America. To California, specifically.”
John grunts in annoyance at remembering the trip, and he sees Johnny grin cheekily at him before he says, “Yippy-ki-yay, motherfucker!”
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steveslevis · 5 months
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delicate - chapter one
is it too soon to do this yet?
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pairing: steve harrington x reader
chapter contents: singular mention of abuse & mentions of a shitty ex, mentions of violence, not much happening yet just lots of lead up <33
wc: 3.5k
a/n: first chapter!! i'm actually so excited for this i love it so much <3 hope you all enjoy!
The smell of coffee hits your nose as you slowly wake, the feeling of sun beaming in through a nearby window makes you squint and roll over, trying to avoid waking up for as long as possible. 
Sleeping a little bit longer would be possible if it weren’t for the clanking of a pan and spatula a few feet away from your head. It’s in that moment that you become painfully aware that you’re on a cheap, cold leather couch and not in your normal, warm and cozy bed. You only groan and flop onto your stomach at the sound, hastily grabbing the pillow that was under your head in order to cover your ears and muffle the loud banging while trying not to think too hard about the situation you were in. 
“Am I being that loud?” you hear a voice call across the room from beneath your pillow.
“I don’t think so, someone is just cranky and a light sleeper,” another voice says with a laugh, this one coming from closer to you, just before you feel the couch dip near your head.
You uncover your head at that remark, finally looking up from your spot on the couch to see your best friend, Eddie sitting beside you with a smug smirk on his face while his boyfriend, Alexander, was starting breakfast in the kitchen just behind you. 
“None of those allegations are true, thank you very much,” you say matter-of-factly, sitting up while wrapping your blanket around your shoulders, “I just would’ve liked a little more sleep than I got, but your uncomfortable ass leather couch decided otherwise.” 
Eddie only rolls his eyes and shakes his head, extending a mug full of fresh coffee your way. You give him a knowing look before taking it, eyes falling to the liquid in the cup, making sure it’s to your liking – even though you know Eddie knows exactly how to make your coffee at home, with just enough creamer to drown out the burnt taste from the cheap drip. 
You can feel your best friend’s eyes on you as you take the first sip, unspoken tension holding in the air as you avoid his gaze. Eddie notices how you look like you barely got an ounce of sleep, just like the four nights before when you’d slept on his couch. The leather couch is partly to blame for your lack of sleep, but you and him both know that the thoughts of your now ex boyfriend is what’s really keeping you up at night. He knows you went to see him last night, so you definitely got not a minute of sleep. His eyes shift towards Alexander for a moment, who shoots Eddie a knowing glare, encouraging him to talk to you.
“So,” he says while clearing his throat, “what’s on your agenda for today?”
“Eds – you really don’t have to keep up with the pity small talk,” you say with a small laugh and a genuine, but sad smile, “you can ask me, I’ll tell you what happened.”
“Babes, I’m not gonna ask about that piece of shit if you don’t want to talk about it –”
“We’re done, Eddie.” you interject, a sad yet relieved look washing over your face as you finally say it out loud, “We talked and decided that no contact was for the best.”
“You’re telling me that Luke, that insufferable asshole who rarely ever let you get a word in and tried to control you in every sense, had a civil conversation about breaking up and agreed on no contact?” Eddie says with an incredulous glare in your direction.
Shit. You were lying straight through your teeth and got caught immediately. You should’ve just told him the whole truth, how you got yelled at for two hours straight about how you were such a slut, how you would never find someone half as good as him, and how he’s the reason you’re wearing a hoodie to cover up the bruises on your forearms from Luke’s drunken grip. But you knew better, you knew telling Eddie even half of the truth would end with someone in the hospital — and it probably wouldn’t be him.
“Okay, maybe that’s not exactly how it went, but that doesn’t matter.” you shrug, shaking your head before taking another chug of coffee, “What does matter is that I am single and in desperate need of somewhere to live, so my search starts today —“
You reach for your laptop that sits on the coffee table in front of you, but Eddie swats your hand away, giving you another glare. 
“You’re not gonna find anything for one person that’s reasonable anywhere around here, babes.” Alexander calls out from behind you while battling with a sizzling pan of bacon.
“He’s right,” Eddie replies, his face twisting into a look of genuine concern, “why don’t you just, you know, like I said before, live here? This dump is rent controlled and two bedrooms, I don’t need an entire office for playing guitar and planning DnD campaigns, y’know.”
“No—No way am I gonna continue to mooch off you and live here! You guys have done too much already, I can’t ask that of you too,” you shake your head quickly, a frown spreading quickly across your lips as you furrow your brow. 
The room falls quiet as you shake your head, both boys staring back at you while you fight back tears you didn’t know were forming. You blink quickly and sniffle before looking back to Eddie, forcing a smile onto your lips to convince him that you’ll be okay.
“Are you sure?” Eddie asks, this time in a quieter, calmer voice.
“Yes, I’m sure. I’ll find somewhere to go, I’ll be fine.” you assure him.
“Will—Will you at least try to look for new jobs before you move?” Eddie begs, knowing you continuing to work as a bartender at the same bar Luke is a bouncer at would only cause trouble. “At least at a bar that’s a little nicer, where you can get good tips?”
“Yes, Eds. I’ll start looking for new jobs today,” you say with a small smile.
—————————————
Your eyes are tired and dry, your hands are sore from the amount of typing and scrolling you’ve been doing. All in the name of a job search, which was proving to be damn near impossible. Every coffee shop with an online application seemed to have a broken portal or no available positions, even the library and gym on campus had nothing for grabs.
There were probably fifty different tabs open on your laptop now, and you were close to giving up for the day. It was almost 5 pm at this point, and nothing was giving any positive signs. You were hungry and in need of time outside or you might end up going stir crazy.
So with a sigh, you begin to close all fifty tabs on your screen to spare your sanity. 
Forty-nine tabs later, you’re left with one Indeed tab open in front of you. Before you close it out, a listing at the bottom catches your eye. You blink once to clear your glazed over eyes, leaning in to read its description.
The link reads, “HELP NEEDED: Full-Time Nanny in Manhattan wanted! Rent, meals and transportation included along with weekly salary. Please contact the following number with serious inquires only.” 
You couldn’t believe what you were reading, it all seemed way too good to be true. Nobody in their right mind would fall for something like this, you thought. But, you didn’t feel like you were in your right mind, anyways. 
You click on the link and it takes you to a simple Indeed page. The page itself was bare, only the description from the previous page along with a phone number next to the lister’s name, Steve Harrington.
“Find anything good?” a voice booms in your ear from behind.
You jump nearly a foot in the air at the voice, turning around quickly to swat Eddie in the shoulder for startling you like that.
“Ow!” 
“Asshole,” you mumble, rolling your eyes at him as you try to hide a smile. 
“I guess I deserve that.” he says with a laugh. 
Eddie throws himself onto the couch next to you as you turn your attention back to the computer in front of you. He cranes his neck enough to read what’s on the screen, furrowing his brow as he reads the job listing.
“Well that seems like a dud. Too suspicious, not enough description.” Eddie murmurs, shaking his head.
You look at him, then back to your computer, then back to your best friend. He’s going to kill you for even thinking about it, you know it. But you can’t help but be curious about the whole situation, especially when it seems like too good of a deal to pass up.
“I—I don’t know, Eddie. I kinda wanna see what it’s all about.” you say with a meek smile.
“What?” he gasps, sitting up with a look of disbelief crossing his face, “hell fucking no, no way you’re actually thinking about this. That seems like a scam waiting to happen.”
“Eddie—“ you interject, grabbing your phone from your pajama pants pocket, “what will it hurt to try? If the texts are too sketchy or things go weird, I’ll block them and that’ll be the end of it, okay?”
He narrows his eyes at you and shakes his head, you’re too convincing to him and he knows you’ve won without much of a fight. A sigh of defeat falls from Eddie’s lips as he stands from the couch, making his way into the kitchen for a drink.
“Fine, but I’m driving you to and from whatever interview processes there are if you do follow through with this ridiculous plan, just so I know you’re safe.” he suggests, grabbing a glass from the cabinet.
“That’s fine by me,” you say with a triumphant grin, turning your attention to your phone.
You spend a few minutes curating a text to the mysterious Steve Harrington, reading it over multiple times before deciding to hit send. You wanted to sound as professional as possible, since there was no actual application process and one wrong text could ruin your chances. After reading it over approximately ten times, you finally decided to hit send. 
Hello Steve! My name is Y/N, I was on Indeed in search of a new job today and came across your job posting. I am extremely interested in the position and would love to hear more about the opportunity. Is there any more information that you could provide me with about the position? Thanks in advance!
Once you sent the message, you stared at the blue bubble on your screen for another minute, rereading it once more. 
“Alright, quit obsessing over that sketch ass job and let’s figure out what we’re gonna eat tonight.” Eddie calls from the kitchen, with a Chinese takeout menu in his hand, “wanna go pick up some lo mein, crab rangoon and some cheap wine? Alexander hates that place but he’s got a shift tonight, so it’s just me and you.” 
“You know me too well, Munson,” you smile, shutting off your phone and shoving it into your pocket.
—————————————
The early autumn air bites at your cheeks as you walk down the street with Eddie, a bag of chinese food in your hands and a bag full of wine bottles in his. The two of you are laughing about something that Eddie said when you feel your phone buzz in your pocket. 
You try to continue the conversation but stop mid-sentence when you see the text from none other than your potential future employer, Steve Harrington. 
Steve Harrington: Hi Y/N. Thank you for your interest in the position. I would love to see if you’re a good fit and see if we can get things started as soon as possible. Would you be available tomorrow morning at 9 to meet us at Ralph’s Coffee on Fifth? I will have all of the details and contracts printed and ready to sign if you’re right for the position. Let me know ASAP.
“What’s up?” Eddie says as he peers at your phone, making you realize you had gone silent for too long, “oh shit, tomorrow? At Ralph’s on Fifth Avenue? That’s like, rich people territory that we’ve never stepped foot in before. What the fuck kinda job is this, Y/N?”
“I—I don’t know,” you stammer, looking up at him for some kind of guidance, “what do I say?”
“Say ‘fuck yes’?” Eddie laughs, reaching for the door of the apartment complex once you reach it, “shit, I don’t know. Just say something professional-ish about seeing him tomorrow.”
“Right—Okay, obviously. I’ll do that.” you giggle as you stomp up the apartment stairs. 
You’re silent as Eddie unlocks all the doors on the way to their place, eyes glued to your phone as you type out a text that’s professional but not too eager.
Sounds great. I will see you tomorrow at 9 a.m. at Ralph’s. Looking forward to meeting you!
—————————————
Being awake before 8 a.m. on a Saturday felt like a crime to you, but you were hoping it was worth it for whatever job you were about to get yourself into. 
You woke up bright and early at 7:30 just to make sure you had time to fully get ready and look decent before making your way across town with Eddie to Ralph’s. There weren’t many options for your outfit for the meeting, since you had to donate half your closet to save space in the shoebox apartment you once shared with Luke, but you opted for a nice pair of black wide-leg jeans, a cream-colored sweater and a pair of black Chelsea boots. You got ready in record time before you made your way into Eddie and Alexander’s room, attempting to wake up the curly haired boy. 
Eddie was not happy to be up, but there was no way he was letting you go alone to meet a stranger about some random job, even if it was at one of the fanciest coffee shops in the city. 
You led the begrudging and very tired man out of the apartment after he got changed, into the crisp morning air to start your walk towards Fifth Avenue.
“You owe me a nice coffee when we get there,” Eddie adds as he hugs himself, trying to create some warmth. 
“You’re the one who wanted to come with, remember?” you remind him, shooting him a knowing glare. 
“Yeah, yeah. Whatever, I just wanna make sure you’re safe.” he retorts, shaking his head at you.
Before you can reply, a text buzzes through on your phone.
Steve Harrington: I grabbed a table off to the side in the shop, look for the crayons and coloring books on the table and you’ll find us. See you soon.
Your brow furrows in confusion at the text, surprised to see that he was bringing who you assume is his child along with him to the meeting. You shrug it off, smiling to yourself at the thought of getting to meet the kid today instead of after getting hired. 
It takes only another 15 minutes to arrive, getting there a few minutes before 9 a.m. to make a good first impression. To shut the complaining Eddie up, you decide to get your coffee first, then find your future employers. 
You order a hot vanilla latte for yourself, and a black coffee for Eddie, who grabs the drink hastily once given it. He bids you goodbye and wishes you good luck before finding his own seat in the coffee shop to occupy himself for the time being. With one last deep breath, you look around at all of the tables, trying to find the one with a coloring child.
Eventually you spot them in a far corner of the room. A little girl and her extremely well-dressed father sit at a table in front of you, both of them engaged in a deep conversation about which color she should choose for the fur of the puppy she was about to scribble on. Your eyes wander from the little brown-haired girl with a baby pink dress and matching shoes and up to her father, who you’re taken aback by immediately. 
He looks only a few years older than yourself, and has the nicest head of hair you’ve ever seen on a man. You can’t help but stare at it for a moment, wanting to run your fingers through the chestnut locks. It isn’t until he looks up from the paper and actually makes eye contact with you that you realize how beautiful he actually is. His doe-eyes are like honey, your mind immediately runs to places it shouldn’t when you gaze into them. 
“You must be Y/N.” he starts, shooting a smile your way as he stands up from his seat to extend a hand and greet you. 
“Y—Yes, I am!” you stammer nervously, cursing yourself for seeming too excited as you throw your hand into his, “you must be Steve, it’s great to finally meet you.” 
After you shake his hand, he gestures for you to have a seat, pulling the chair next to him out so you can sit. You quickly sit down and look at the young girl next to you, who has an excited grin and bright eyes when she looks up at you.
“Hello!” you greet her with a smile, “what’s your name, sweetheart?” 
“Amelia.” she says with a giggle. 
Before you can continue talking to her, she turns her attention back to her coloring page, having decided on coloring the puppy in front of her with a purple crayon instead of the brown that Steve had suggested.
“She obviously has very important business to attend to,” Steve laughs, while reaching for some papers on the table in front of him, “and so do we.” 
For the next thirty minutes, the two of you do a lot of back and forth, professional discussion about your life and what your job for the family would entail. You tell him that you’re in online courses at NYU, so you’ll need time for homework and exams, which he understands. You also learn that Steve is a CEO at Penguin Publishing, and that he is in need of a lot of help with taking care of Amelia, who seemed to be the best behaved child you could ask to watch.
The conversation was flowing between the two of you so easily, like you had known each other for years. Every time he cracked a smile at one of your remarks, it made your heart flutter. What the hell? What was wrong with you? You tried to push the fluttery feeling away as he spoke, not wanting it to get in the way of whatever this good thing was that you had going.
In the middle of your intense conversation about your schooling and working around it, Amelia pulls at your sleeve to get your attention. When you turn to her, she looks up at you with the same doe-eyes that her father has and shows you two crayons, one red and one green.
“What color for trees?” she questions, looking at you intently.
“Hm…I think red, it’s much prettier than green and it’s like all the fall leaves outside right now.” you suggest, which makes the little girl light up.
She nods feverishly at your idea, dropping the green crayon and immediately coloring the trees with the scarlet red.
“Well, it seems like we have a pretty good thing going here and that we’re in agreement for expectations and whatnot.” Steve says with a smile after watching the interaction between the two of you, “Although,I think there’s one thing that might make you change your mind about this whole thing that wasn’t specifically mentioned in the job description.” Steve starts, shifting in his chair nervously. 
“I’m sure I won’t mind, whatever it is.” you say with a smile, now feeling desperate for this job after building such a quick connection to the two of them.
“Well, I would really, really appreciate if you moved into my penthouse, into the in-laws quarters that are obviously not being used. It would be so—so helpful for you to be there all the time and—that’s why I had rent, food and transportation on the description.” he rambles nervously, as if that had ran off past applicants before.
Who would wanna turn down living in a penthouse, especially if it’s with him of all people?
Fears and doubts flood your mind for a quick moment, but you shake them away, not wanting him to rescind his offer if you think about it for too long. 
“A—Alright, when would you need me to start? Like when would I move in?”
“Tomorrow, if possible. I can send a truck and some people over to where you’re currently living to help move whatever you need—“
“Tomorrow?”
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TAGS (ask to be added!): @frostandflamesfanfic @definitionwanderlust @diffrent-spokes
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sailorholly · 5 months
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Sixty Seconds
Summary: When you’re forced to share a room with your rival, sparks fly during a friendly competition.
Warnings: Smut. 18+ Only. Minors DNI. Scratching. Orgasm denial. 69.
Pairing: Spencer Reid x F. BAU Reader
See my Masterlist Here
You toss your go bag in the corner of the hotel room. You don’t know how you always end up in these situations. You are in a new city for a case. It’s a tourist town, so the team was lucky to find any lodging at all. You expected you would have to share a room with someone. You just didn’t think it would be with him.
When the lady at the front desk told Hotch there was only four rooms left, everyone quickly paired up. Penelope tightly gripped Derek’s arm, claiming him. Hotch and Rossi nodded their confirmation to each other. JJ and Emily walked over to each other. You and Spencer were the only ones left. You both shared the look of disdain, dreading being stuck together.
You hadn’t been to the local police station yet. Hotch thought it would be best to find somewhere to stay first. You were all grateful he thought of it. There wasn’t a room left in the whole city. You didn’t even look around, just put your stuff down and hurried to the elevators.
When night fell, you were surprised to find there was only one bed in the room. This case was taking its toll on everyone and you were looking forward to relaxing under the covers, mindlessly scrolling on your phone.
Spencer hadn’t made it in yet, so you explore the room. You inspect the small sofa against the wall. Surely it had a pull out bed. You take the cushions off and sigh. It was just a normal sofa. When Spencer came in, he noticed the problem too. “I’m not sleeping on the couch.” You figured you better say it first. Spencer looks over at the small piece of furniture. “I wasn’t going to ask you to do that. I thought we could sleep in the same bed and be civil, like adults. But you have to fight with me about everything.”
You can feel the anger surging through you. “I don’t like to fight with you, but you leave me no choice. Of course, we can sleep in the same bed. I just didn’t think you would want to. You might be too tempted.” You smirk, watching his dark eyes travel every inch of your body. “The only thing I’d be tempted to do is push you off the bed.”
You roll your eyes, gathering your pajamas and toiletries out of your bag. “I’m going to take a shower first.” When you’re finished, you start to panic. You thought you would have a room to yourself or that you would be with the girls at the very least. So all you brought to sleep in was a crop top and panties. You put it on, worried you might have to sleep in jeans so Spencer would be comfortable.
But his words from earlier echoed in your mind. It shouldn’t be a problem since he doesn’t find you attractive. You walk out confidently, Spencer glances up at you from his spot on the sofa where he was reading. You watch as his eyes linger on the thin crop top where your hardened nipples peak through the shirt.
He drops his gaze to the floor when he notices you watching him. He stands, gathering his belongings and walking to the bathroom. You get in the bed to check your text messages. Spencer comes out wearing a white t-shirt and blue plaid pajama pants. He gets in beside you, the bed dipping as he settles in.
You put your phone on the charger, turning off the lamp on the nightstand beside you. You thought sleep would come easily, considering the exhausting day you had. But you lay there in uncomfortable silence for what feels like hours. You turn the lamp back on, turning toward Spencer, surprised to find him facing you. “Can’t sleep?” He asks, his dark eyes glancing at your chest.
You decide to tease him a little. You might as well get some enjoyment out of this undesired arrangement. You lay on your back raising your chest and sighing. “It’s just so hot in here, I’m uncomfortable.” You lie, tossing the blanket off your body, exposing more of yourself to him. You run your hands over yourself, lifting your crop top to underneath your breasts.
You watch Spencer’s breath hitch as you sigh loudly, hands traveling down your stomach. He watches intently as you reach the top of your panties, snapping the waist band. “If I was alone, I’d be sleeping naked by now.” You sit up, your chest right in his face. Spencer shifts in his place on the bed. You watch as he moves his legs awkwardly, you notice he’s turned on.
Spencer Reid wants you. You smile, “I thought you wouldn’t be tempted by me, Reid.” He scrunches his nose up. “It’s not because of you. It’s a natural reaction to sharing a bed with a barely dressed woman. It has nothing to do with you.” You decide to push him a little further, so you climb on top of him, reaching for his hands. He goes still under your touch.
You place his limp hands on your hips. “Wha- what are you doing?” You squirm on top of him, feeling his hardness underneath you. “Proving my point. I saw you checking me out. I know you want me.” He tightens his grip on your hips, “Keep dreaming, sweetheart. I wouldn’t want you if we were the last people on Earth.” You laugh, “That’s okay, you wouldn’t be able to get me off anyways.”
You try to swing a leg off him to remove yourself, but he stops you. “Wanna bet?” You study his face, he has to be joking. “Bet what, that you can make me cum?” You shake your head, he’s being ridiculous. “I’m not worried about that. I’ll make you cum so hard, that you’ll only think of me every time you get off. How about we make it a competition?”
Now you’re interested. You love competing with each other. “What kind of competition?” He runs his thumb against the soft skin of your leg, thrusting upward, causing you to moan. He smirks, pleased with himself. “I’ll set a timer and the first to bring the other to orgasm wins.”
“So we have an unlimited amount of time to do this and just whoever cums first loses?” You ask, trying to understand the rules. “An infinite amount of time is too broad. I only need a minute.” He states confidently. “A minute as in sixty seconds?” You ask, shocked.
“If you don’t think you can do it in the allotted time then-“ “I can do it. I was just repeating the rules.” He smiles, knowing you just lied. “Let’s get naked first so it doesn’t take up any time.” He agrees by shedding his clothes. Your hands tremble a little as you lift your crop top over your head. You don’t understand why you’re reacting this way. It’s just Spencer. You blame it on the adrenaline of competing with him. “Are we going one at a time or-“
“We go at the same time so it’s fair.” He lays on his side, motioning for you to lay the opposite way, with your face by his hard cock. “Seriously, we are going to 69?” You giggle. You haven’t done this since you were in high school. He doesn’t answer as he swipes on his phone. “Time starts now.” He informs you, his beautiful face settling between your legs.
Long fingers dig into your thighs as he begins his torture. Long licks cover you as he explores you. Your wet mouth slides down his length, lips closing around him. He moans for you as you dig your nails into his thighs, pulling him as close as you can.
Spencer’s talented tongue switches from slow drags to quick flicks. Your legs shake, you’re so close already. You hadn’t expected it to be like this. You thought he would cum in the first few seconds, but it didn’t seem like he was close at all. He buries his face deeper, his tongue swirling in intricate patterns that make your head swim. Probably tracing some math thing, you decide.
You suck in your cheeks around him, one hand covering what couldn’t fit in your mouth. His lips seal around your clit, sucking lightly. You whimper as your nipples rub against his smooth skin. Your demise begins when you look down at him. His messy hair moving with every tilt of his head. This isn’t an image you want to forget any time soon.
You realize your mistake as your orgasm hits, crashing into you like a wave. You squeeze your thighs around his head, chanting his name like a prayer. You can feel his cocky smirk against you as he laps up his victory. The alarm goes off as you come down from your high.
Spencer presses a soft kiss to your inner thigh. You sit up giving him a death glare. “I don’t want to hear it.” You really shouldn’t be acting like a sore loser when you lost in the best possible way. You lay down beside him, instinctively reaching for his hand. “Don’t get any ideas, I still hate you.” He quickly removes his hand from yours.
You lift your eyebrows, ready to challenge him again. “Then fuck me like you hate me.” You don’t have time to react. Spencer is on top of you pinning your arms above your head with one large hand wrapped around your wrists. You tilt your hips as Spencer sinks into you. He buries his face beside your neck. His sharp teeth sink into the soft skin, earning a hiss from you.
You arch your back, taking him impossibly deeper. You’ve never had sex like this before. It’s fast, intense, and demanding. You move in a frenzy, bodies crashing into each other. Spencer pins you against the mattress with his hips as he fucks you roughly.
Each snap of his hips drags your clit deliciously against his pubic hair. The once silent room is now noisily filled with the sweet moans and pants escaping you. Spencer groans as you clench around his cock.
He slows his thrusts, his expression almost sinister. “I don’t think you deserve to get off again. All that big talk and you were cumming on my tongue forty three seconds in. I think you should be punished for your hubris.” His cock slowly drags against your walls and you feel tears flood your eyes. You don’t mean to whimper, but you were close again.
“Shh, shh don’t cry, pretty girl. I might let you, if you beg me.” Another torturously slow thrust, and the tears fall down your cheeks. “In your dreams, Reid.” You struggle against his hold on your wrists, but it’s no use. He still has you trapped right where he wants you.
“Come on, admit it. You need me.” He sounds more sure of himself than normal. You want to be annoyed, but he’s right. You’re desperate. “Please.” You give in. He smiles, thrusting a little harder this time. “Please what? Use your words.”
“Please let me cum. I promise I’ll be a good girl. I need you. Please, Spencer?” He senses the sincerity in your voice. “That’s more like it.” He snaps his hips forcefully, releasing your hands. They immediately cling to his back, scratching and clawing at him as he hits all the right spots.
He hooks one arm under your back, bringing you closer. Your cries and mewls encourage him to go faster. “Ah f-fuck. You’re being such a good girl for me.” His praises make you flutter around him. He reaches between you to circle your clit. You cry out as you shatter beneath him, nails digging so deep, they could draw blood.
You feel his thrusts grow sloppy as he spills into you. He pulls you against him, “This doesn’t mean anything.” He almost whispers against your shoulder. You hum your agreement, enjoying the moment.
Tags
@cindylynn @potter-puff007 @multifandom-worlds @mochie85 @wheredafandomat @cynbx @lover-of-books-and-tea @lamentis-10 @zzumkii @megharat-barnes-reid @anonymously-ominous @kats72 @vivian-555 @itzdarling @emarich7 @nomajdetective @aelinismyqueen @wildernessflora @academiareid @loz-3
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lazyjellyfish300 · 5 months
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Miguel O'Hara parenting head canons
I randomly thought of this and thought it would be fun as a new young mom myself to make this list. These are just things I pulled from my brain of what I imagine he'd be like as a parent. Reader is his s/o.
TW: minors DNI, slightly suggestive, breeding, child free, infertility, parenting, childbirth
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Pt 2 as well:
-His kids come first over everything. In the universe where he's a single dad to Gabi he definitely takes a longggg time before introducing anyone he's dating to Gabi. He wouldn't introduce them to her unless he's 10000% committed and sees a future with them.
-One of the best ways to crack through his rough exterior or grumpy moods is to ask him about his kids. Especially if you have kids of your own, start talking about them and he'll slowly forget what he's doing and listen/calm down (proof: when Peter brings Mayday to work) and when it comes to talking about his own kids he'll rattle on and on.
-He goes the extra mile on Christmas for Gabi. He's normally cheap/frugal asf but not on Christmas. Gets her a stocking and buys so much stuff it barely fits in the stocking.
-Gabi loves stuffed animals. Her bed is like piled high with squishables and squashmallows. Miguel knows each one's name.
-If you don't want kids/child free or can't, no problem. As long as you love Gabi as much as he does Miguel doesn't have issues. He still loves you & you two still share a lasting love based around love of travel and adventure and he's extremely sensitive to your feelings. (Aka he nearly fought your aunt at Thanksgiving for asking when you two are going to have kids)
-if you have kids already/want kids ooooh he's trying to get you pregnant yesterday. And he absolutely adores your kids as much as his own. He never uses the word "step," when describing his step kids. He's a little intimidating at pick up but he's civil with your ex, mostly for your sake. He loves the family life with you and is on board for whatever fun craft night/family game night/movie night ideas you have. He supports you if you have a career or if you want to stay home with the kids he is behind you 100%.
-He definitely does not have McDonald's money. (We have food at home)
-He believes in the theory of Gentle parenting but has a hard time applying it. (catches himself being kind of hard on the kids but he's determined to break the cycle and be the father he never had, always apologizes to the kids)
-He thinks Disneyland is way overpriced and over hyped but he loves going purely for yours and Gabi's reaction to the magic. He carries Gabi on his shoulders and carries her in his arms when she naps after a long day at Disney when you head back to the hotel.
-He does tea parties/plays dolls with Gabi 1000% but he forgets to stay in character when playing with dolls and Gabi has to remind him to use his girly voice.
-learned how to do hairstyles for Gabi and always braids her hair/does ponytails for her soccer games. He's a bit of a perfectionist at it and has made them late for games in the past because he wants to get it right.
-If you want kids, you want like 2 or 3 max and he goes along with whatever you want because it's your body your choice, but if it was up to him he'd want like 5 or 6.
-He definitely gets a little too carried away at the kid's sports games and got into an argument with the ref at Gabi's soccer game once, but after you had a stern talking to him now he just mutters under his breath after every call.
- He's at every single doctor's appointment and asks the pediatrician way too many questions.
- He loves taking Gabi and the kids trick or treating on Halloween while you stay warm at home with the younger kids/babies. He definitely dresses up in a scary costume and sits on the porch really still like a statue and scares the kids.
- He completely misses the fact that all the moms at soccer practice and school pick up are flirting with him.
-When the kids are sick he's the first one to offer to call off work to stay home. If you don't work then he'll take a sick day to be with you and the kids.
- he's actually a really good cook, but when it comes to packing the kids lunches he's more of a simple man (pb& j or turkey sandwich with carrot sticks, goldfish, and milk) whereas you go all out with the star shaped fruit, cutting the crust off the sandwiches and handwritten notes.
- he's a workaholic but he'll miss work or a meeting for Gabi's choir performances any day.
-overly excited for the science fair at Gabi's school and is involved with her project/signs up to be one of the judges.
-he's at every single parent teacher conference
- He has a no cell phones at dinner rule, and is big on talking with the kids, asking about their day and school.
- if you want kids, he's at all your prenatal appointments and saves all the ultrasound pics and cried when you told him you're pregnant
-he completely passed out on the guest couch for like 5 hours straight in your hospital room after your delivery because he was awake all night with you tending to you and the new baby, helping you to the bathroom with your postpartum undies and changing the baby's diaper
-blood doesn't bother him at all, being the scientist he is he asks the doctor a lot of questions and is comfortable watching the medical procedures while you're in labor.
-he babies you when you're pregnant and occupies the kids so you can rest/won't let you go anywhere by yourself/carry anything heavier than 5 pounds.
-definitely cries at his daughters wedding but complains about the cost of everything through the whole planning process.
-also gets teary at the kids graduation, brings in noisemakers/giant posters even though the principal said not to.
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