#I’m happy ! I’m happy ! to see. My husband !

[aomiiine]

COME HOME? CUM HOME!

LIKE A ROMANCE TURNED EROTIC … husband farspace colonel!caleb & wife!reader. warning(s) -> nsfw, MDNI (18+), pure filth ahead !! established relationship, fluff for like the first 3-4 paragraphs, unprotected sex (pls wrap it up b4 action irl), impatient caleb lol, creampie, breeding, teasing, uhh daddy kink, degradation (he calls u a slut), petnames: pip-squeak(once!!!), baby, honey, princess, brat, not proofread wordcount. 1.9k (small smth for caleb’s release!! a bit rushed) taglist. @jellysix

𝑯𝑼𝑺𝑩𝑨𝑵𝑫 𝑹𝑬𝑻𝑼𝑹𝑵𝑺 from service after nearly a year, caleb is more than eager to reacquaint himself with his wife’s body.

22nd January. Today. It was the day your beloved husband finally returned from service as the Farspace Colonel. You stayed up all day, all night since the day before, restless and worried of your husband’s well being. Sure, news hasn’t said much about the farspace dealings but being a Space Hunter, you heard a thing or two from work.

“Honey? I’m back— uumph!”

you raised from the couch the moment you heard keys jingling from outside your front door, reaching Caleb as soon as he opened the door to take a step inside. Your arms circled his torso beneath his arms, nearly tackling him with your jump which he caught with ease, tossing his bag to the side on the floor carelessly.

“Hello to you too, my little brat,” Caleb giggled, lifting you up from the ground in his arms with a little twirl. He buried his face into the top of your head, hair tickling his nose as he inhaled your scent deeply, taking the unique scent of yours—the scent of home.

“I missed you so much, you have no idea,” he gushed, lips against your hair with his gloved hand cradling the back of your head, tucking you deep under his chin. “Then you’re can’t imagine how much I missed you,” you mumbled against the firm plane of his chest, his uniform warm against the warm curves of your body pressed against his perfectly like puzzle pieces complementing each other. “Dramatic as always,” he chuckled warmly.

wholesome reunion, right? Caleb indulged himself in you, catching up to all the days he missed out in your life. He stayed patient, listening like a good husband all the while he kept the cruel side of him that clawed at his skin to pounce and ravage you. Caleb knew he couldn’t. Not now, at least. So bit his tongue, curled his fingers to a fist so tight, you could hear the faint strain of leather.

“Sweetheart.. so much has happened since I left. I missed out on so much, baby, don’t you think it’s time to make up for lost time?” He finally spoke his mind after the hums and replies of acknowledgement at your joyful gushing, the sight of you so happy to see him igniting a certain desire both innocent and not inside him.

you quirked a brow at him, small smile on your face along at his words. You were glad he wanted to make up for lost time, but now?

“Right now? Sure, I suppose. If you have an idea how,” you shrugged with acceptance, nodding as you shifted yourself on the couch to face him better. And in the split second your eyes met his face, you could’ve sworn you saw the edge of his lips curled to a smirk.

“Oh, I do have ideas.. So many of them.” Caleb’s hand on your waist squeezed the flesh there lightly before pulling you closer to him, other hand moving to tilt your head up with a finger beneath your chin. In that moment, your eyes blinked wildly, throat dry and lips parted invitingly for his lips to capture yours. And they did, securely so. His tongue plundered deep into the warm cavern of your mouth, slanting and sweeping his tongue over yours.

“Shouldn’t take it lightly when I say I miss you, pip-squeak,” caleb murmured once he broke the kiss, hand previously beneath your chin now holding your face, long slender fingers sliding up your jaw until they raked through your hair.

His other hand wandering your body made you gasp, cold leather fingers sneaking beneath the hem of your shirt to skim through the surface of your belly. He wasn’t shy with his exploration, making his way to cup the soft mound of your breast until it filled his palm.

“Fuck, these curves, these pretty tits that are just begging for their daddy’s touch, yeah?” Your husband seemed in awe as he reacquainted himself with your body, kneading the flesh of your breast through the confines of your bra, all until he tugged it down to spill you bare to his hand. Every tug and pinch of pebbled nipple sent jolts of desire straight to your core, your back arching into him involuntarily, much to his pleasure.

“C-Caleb, maybe we should head into the bedroom— ack!” Your efforts to reason with him was interrupted with a firm yet gentle shove on your shoulder, his larger frame hovering over yours that was laid on the couch. “Bedroom, living room, what difference does it make? We’re alone regardless,” he replied with a sly smirk, pushing your shirt up to your chin, exposing your bare midriff and tampered bra.

“Besides, your legs are welcoming me so wholeheartedly.. Is it force of habit?” Caleb taunted, free hand taking off his hat to toss to on the coffee table beside them. His other hand wrapped around the curve of your thigh, nestling himself between them as your legs locked around his waist securely.

“Must’ve fucked you so good before I left. Trained you just for this moment, didn’t I?” He drawled, free hand resting flat on your pelvis, the cold metal band on his ring fingers tracing idle circles on your skin sending goosebumps to your body. You whimpered his name, unsure exactly to ask from him all the while you squirmed beneath his touch.

“Baby, please,” you pleaded breathlessly, eyes flickering down to his hand flat on your lower belly, fingers dangerously low to your core. His hand went back up to hook a finger under the waistband of your pants, tugging down to your knees, pulling up and off your legs. All that was left was your panties, the a wet spot slowly blooming on the fabric.

“Please, what? Be more specific.. I only take clear orders, after all,” your husband chuckled lowly, leaning down closer to you, hips nestling closer to yours just enough to let you feel the bulge of his cock growing with every passing moment.

“Please what?” He repeated by your ear hotly, knowing exactly he was doing by teasing you like this.

you on the other hand, was torn between your pride and need for him. You didn’t like the thought he could see how much affected you with his absence, and return. This was surely be material for him to tease you for later on. But at the moment, you could care. You needed him to calm the raging desire in your heat, desperately.

”please.. fuck me,” you whispered, brows furrowed as you relented to his advances, eyes fixated on the sight of his hips grinding with shallow thrusts into you, the ridge of his cock straining in the confines of his pants painfully evident against the soft folds of your panty clad pussy.

The colonel smirked beside your ear, leaning away just enough to look at your face, drinking in the lust dazed expression you had on right now.

“Good girl,” he purred, grabbing each of your thighs up all of the sudden, lifting your legs up and pushing them up to your chest. He release one leg of yours to unbuckle his own belt with ease, unzipping his fly and tugging his pants down with his boxers to let his throbbing cock breath. He hissed at the cold air, stroking himself with a fist lazily before leaning down to align his tip over your clothed folds, pulling the fabric aside. A soft moan escaped your lips at the direct contact, his hips nudging forward to pierce through your slick entrance.

“So fucking tight, perfect pussy remembers me, baby..,” caleb rambled, slowly burying his girth deeper into your warm heat that welcomed the intrusion, fluttering around his shaft with each move he made. He proceeded to lift your legs up to hang over his shoulder, the narrow space between your calves allowing him a view of your sprawled on the couch, hair sprawled on the velvet cushion, features scrunched into a face of unadulterated pleasure. But nothing turned him on more than the sight of your tits bouncing back and forth in time with his thrusts, your voice raising in volume each time he got deeper in your depths—rearranging your guts with frantic jerks of his hips.

“Come on, cum for me.. Welcome me back with a biiig, wet mess, baby,” caleb coaxed, hugging your legs to his body with both arms, fucking in and out of your drenched cunt with ruthless abandon. His hips were unforgiving, drunk in the feeling of your pussy sucking and wringing him dry for he was worth. It took you all the focus and energy you could muster to keep yourself stable on the narrow surface of the couch, holding on tight to the headrest you clung onto.

“Caleb, ngh— too fast, too fast!” You slurred, your husband’s bulbous cockhead bullying the spongy spot that he knew by heart, beyond eager to make you explode on his cock. “What was— shit— that? Too slow?” Caleb teased between pants, grinning at the tight spasms of your velvety walls, a telltale sign of your impending orgasm. And he was determined to make you reach it first.

his name fell from your lips repeatedly like a mantra, nails burying into the cushion of the couch’s headrest with the fabric threatening to break—like how the coil in your belly threatened to snap. Caleb’s cock plunging into your core was reckless still, especially so now that you were on the brink of climaxing. So in a final effort, Caleb sheathed himself inside you to the hilt, settling on shallow thrusts and grinds on your clit. Much to his pleasure, the change of pace finally made you cum, your juices coming out in a spray on his cock and his pelvis, the pressure only urging him to start moving again—harder this time.

“That’s my wife, cumming all over me like a dirty slut, hm? Don’t worry, princess, I’ll be joining you aah— soo enough,” he groaned, arms binding your shivering legs tighter as he fucked into your pussy like a man deprived of any sorts of physical touch—and in a way, he way. He went on too long without you, he had to melt himself in your sopping cunt again.

“Yesyesyesyes, agh— fuck!” Caleb groaned loud, a deep guttural moan coming from his chest without his control when he felt his balls draw up tight, cock heavy and throbbing as jet after jet of semen was pumped into your womb. His hips didn’t dare to stop plummeting into your vice-like channel until he was sure that his seed would take root, that you would be swollen with his child after a month or two.

Well, he would need a good reason to stay by your side after that long, torturous, mission.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Try, Try, Try 1

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics including adultery and trying to conceive. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Character: husband!Andy Barber, friend!Thor

masterlist - to be added

Summary: your husband puts high expectations on you but you don't think you'll ever be enough for him.

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging ❤️

A single line. Negative. You cringe as you hold the plastic stick over the bin in disappointment. There’s a knock at the door. 

“Well,” Andy’s voice rumbles through. 

You drop the test into the garbage and exhale softly, “not this time.” 

You crank on the faucet and rinse off your hands. The door opens from the other side and Andy meets your eye in the mirror. You can see the same disappointment in him. He even looks angry. 

“You been taking your vitamins?” He asks. 

“Yeah,” you nod to the pillow box, each day a separate compartment, filled with the multicolor tablets. “I’m off coffee finally. No drinking. I gave Lisa a bunch of wine.” 

Your husband sighs, “you were ovulating. You said so.” 

“Andy,” you shrug. “It just takes time.” 

“Three years,” he says. “Yeah, a long time.” 

You wince at his disapproval. You shut off the tap and dry your hands. “I know. I’m trying.” 

“We’re both trying,” he insists. “Even on the days I’m tired, from working, when all I wanna do is nothing, I try. All according to your calendar. Are you sure you’re doing it right?” 

“What?” You face him. “Yeah, it’s an app and the tests--” 

“I don’t know. Maybe you aren’t trying as hard as me. Or maybe you’re hiding something.” 

His accusation is like a slap in the face. You blink furiously and shake your head, “what are you saying?” 

“You went to the OBGYN last week. How do I know you didn’t get pills? Or an insert?” 

“Huh?” You grimace. You got your IUD out the month before the wedding; because he asked. It wasn’t fun or easy. “Why--” 

“Cold feet? I mean, you leave dishes in the sink, maybe you’re not ready for a kid.” 

Your lashes flutter as your eyes burn. You leave a glass or two in the sink but the place isn’t a sty. You heave and swallow down the hurt. He’s frustrated. That’s it. 

“I’m ready. I’ve been just as ready as you,” you croak. 

“Hm, well, maybe you should book another appointment. Get a referral and figure out what’s wrong with you.” 

“What’s wrong--” 

“There are options. In vitro. Surrogate,” he crosses his arms and leans on the door frame, “I’m not getting any younger. Neither are you.” 

You want to say that it could be him. That you’re not necessarily the problem but you can’t be entirely sure of that. You sniffle, “Andy, I want it just as bad. I understand that it’s hard but you don’t have to be mean.” 

“Cecilia and Mark started trying last year and she’s about to pop,” he retorts. “And Timothy, he’s older than I am and he’s got twins.” 

“Andy,” you plead. “You’re acting like this is some conspiracy.” 

He looks away as if to suggest that’s possible. You stagger with hurt. His mom always accused you of being a gold digger. Does he believe you? He’s the one who told you to quit your job and stay home. 

He clears his throat and his eyes flick over sharply, “almost forgot. Found a cooking course for you. Down at the Elmwood.” 

“A cooking... what?” 

“Mom suggested it. Said it could help with everything. Make it more manageable if you know what you’re doing.” He drops his hands to his hips. 

“But... you like my cooking.” 

“Honey, you cook out of cans and the freezer. It’s something but if we’re going to have a little one, you need to start making more organic meals. Processed foods are awful, especially if you’re going to be breastfeeding,” he girds. 

Your heart sinks even further. You just can’t do anything right. Not since he put that ring on your finger. You’ve let him down in so many ways. You can’t give him a baby, you can’t cook what he likes, and last night he said you were too dry. Not your fault when he doesn’t offer any foreplay. 

“It will be fun too,” he offers. “I’m sure you’ll make some friends. Maybe some who can give you good advice... moms.” 

You restrain the flinch and nod. “Sure, probably will be. I guess... learning new things is good.” 

“Sure it will be, honey,” he shoves away from the wall and comes closer. “Look, it’s not that bad, alright?” He brushes his hand over your hip and along your lower back. He turns you to face him, “we can try again. Before work?” 

He pulls you against him and you have to resist tearing away. You’re not mad. You’re hurt. Why can’t he ever tell you what you do right? 

“Sure,” you run your hands up his white tee shirt. 

“Mm, when’s the last time we were spontaneous?” He purrs as his attitude shifts entirely. “Come on, get on the counter. Just like old times.” 

Your cheeks sear at the memory. When you were his law clerk, it was so exciting. Your little rendezvous, the under the desk fun. Now it’s so much pressure. Now he really feels like your boss. 

He backs you up and you brace the counter. He helps you up and pushes between your knees. You gasp as he steps between them and pulls down the straps of your nightie. A shiver speckles goosebumps across your chest as he bends to bury his face. 

You clasp the back of his head as he fondles one tit in his hand and latches onto the other. He groans as he teethes at you and sucks as he pulls back, stretching your nipple until it pops free. He looks up at you and purrs. 

“You know, when you’re expecting, those are gonna be bigger,” he stands and you hide your disappointment. No foreplay. Again. “I can’t wait.” 

He spreads your knees and pulls you so your pelvis is curled. He pushes down the elastic of his boxers as he slides you closer to the edge. He grabs your shoulder, pushing you back against the mirror as he guides himself along your cunt. 

He growls as he pushes inside of you, rocking until he finds his way in. He grunts and snaps his hips as you whine. It scrapes dryly as you’re unprepared for his suddenness. You brace his forearm and grit down on the pain. 

“You’re dry again,” he snarls and thrusts. 

You rasp, “sorry, I’m trying.” 

You reach down to your clit and he swats your hand away. He snags your wrists and brings them above your head. He pins them to the mirror and rams in harder. You whimper and curl your legs around him. 

“Ah, Andy--” 

“Yeah, you like it, don’t you? Like how big I am?” He pounds into you without patient. “Want me to fill you up, don’t you?” 

You gulp and gasp around his raw intrusion. He squeezes your wrists until your fingers throb and you notice how he watches himself in the mirror, almost entirely unconcerned with your presence. You turn your head down and bite your lip as he uses you. You just need him to get off and then you can go cook him a breakfast he won’t he even like. 

[reidphobic]

🎟️your ticket to spill your dad!spencer thoughts

thank u so much for this opportunity… so i’m sure we all know spencer is a girldad but the two of you have a literal horde of daughters. four, to be exact. your eldest, daphne diana (yes, he cried when you suggested the name) took you completely by surprise, two pink lines a positive blood test confirming you don’t just have a bout of terrible food poisoning.

you’re a little afraid, but there’s nobody you’d rather have at your side. spencer absolutely dotes on you through your pregnancy, at your side every minute he’s not on a case. he won’t even let you reach for anything above eye-level, for god’s sake!

and it’s only magnified when she’s born, and she’s so tiny that spencer’s palm is the size of her little face, and he’s rocking her and cooing softly, and you’re delirious and still in pain and flooded with hormones, and you just burst into tears. everything’s perfect, you say at his concerned look. everything’s the most perfect it’s ever been. i hope she takes after you, you say dreamily.

she won’t, if she knows what’s good for her, he quips. most beautiful girl in the world for a mom, and you want her to take after me?

your next daughter is planned, or at least intended to be. daphne’s about two, and already showing signs of being as smart as her father. don’t you think she’d be a good big sister? you murmur, watching him chatter away enthusiastically to her almost-words. only one way to find out.

and then you get an ultrasound. there’s two of them?! what did you do to me? you demand. spencer looks sheepish, as if it’s actually his fault. daphne seems frankly baffled by the concept, insists on asking where the baby is almost every day of your pregnancy. she’s even more confused when you bring two babies home: adeline alexandra and eloise emily. when they’re born, spencer takes an extended sabbatical, and having him consistently at home with you is like a dream.

by the time daphne is five and addie and eloise are three, you’re itching for that sweet new baby smell again. please? you whine, draping yourself over your husband as your eldest daughter covers his fingertips in pink, sparkly nail polish. just one more? you’re so great with them. and you lean in, murmur so your daughters can’t hear. and i know you love how i look pregnant.

you’re regretting that choice in the delivery room for the third time. stop putting daughters in me! you screech. they bite me and destroy my stuff and my house is covered in pink plastic crap! stop it! spencer looks genuinely guilty. but then she’s born, and you forget all of it.

piper penelope is your forever baby, utterly adored by her parents, her sisters, everyone she meets. she shares her namesake’s bubbly personality, a chatterbox from the minute she can talk. of your daughters, she looks the most like her father, and you can tell from the first time spencer sees her how happy it makes him.

the five of you are crammed into a pillow fort your bossy second-born insisted you build, spencer’s lanky frame hunched over and wearing a smile so wide his cheeks must hurt. can you tell us a story, daddy? says daphne, the big brown eyes she inherited from her father shining up at him. you guys want to hear a story? four tiny, overlapping voices cheer and you pull little piper into your arms. let me ask you this, have you ever heard the one about…

(and, yes, all their namesakes did cry upon finding out you and spencer named your daughters after them)

[sandwitchstories]

Onee-Chan

Well hello! Welcome back to yet another adventure in Mouse's Mini-verse! I missed writing this little family so much! Hope you enjoy the newest installment of fluff!

If you prefer to read it on AO3 click here !

WC: 950+

Summary: Sukuna and Reader have some big news for Mouse. As to be expected, our favorite little pinkette has plenty to say.

AN: To anyone new to my Daddy Duty series- Mouse is Sukuna's two year old daughter. Welcome to Mouse's Mini-verse!

CW: Pregnancy announcement, reader is called Mama but not described, Mouse is a mouthy little menace who is an absolute treasure. It is pure family fluff.

“Mouse,” you said gently, trying to get your daughter’s attention as she sat next to Sukuna. 

Her full focus was currently on stubbornly trying to shove food into her father’s belly mouth that he refused to open. You chuckled at their matching stubborn grimaces (tummy mouth included). 

“Yes, Mama?” Mouse asked, her tongue poked out the side of her lips in concentration and determination.

“Papa and I have something important to tell you.”

Sukuna snatched the berry out of her hand and tossed it into his mouth. He gestured towards you while he chewed. “Pay attention to your mother.”

“Fine…” she pouted, turning to look up at you, trying to be sly and grab another berry as she did. “I listening Mama.”

“Mouse,” you said, smiling and almost bubbling over with excitement. You couldn't wait for her reaction to the big news. “You're going to be a big sister!”

Mouse looked up at you with your husband's look of dismay on her face. “Huh?”

“You're going to be a big sister. Mama’s going to have another baby.”

Mouse scrunched up her face, grabbed another berry and met your gaze. With no hesitation she said, “No, please and thank you, Mama.”  And with that her little chubby little hand resumed her previous mission.

“There is no saying no to another baby,” you chuckled. “Mama already has another baby in her belly.”

Mouse turned quickly to Sukuna and asked in a loud whisper, “Mama ate a baby?” 

“No. Mama did not eat the baby,” Sukuna grinned, leaning forward to hover over his daughter so she had to turn her face up to look at him. “But I’m awfully hungry and I know a toddler that’s just about big enough to make dumplings out of.”

She grinned and giggled at him. “No eat me, Papa! Please and thank you, Papa!” 

“No one is eating anyone,” you sighed, rubbing the bridge of you nose. With a cannibal for a husband you should not have been surprised by your daughter’s question, nor how her father responded. 

“How’d baby get in there?” Mouse asked innocently. 

“That one is all you,” Sukuna said quickly.

You rolled your eyes at your husband. “Well, that’s where they grow. Mama and Papa made a wish and the universe made it come true.”

“Why you wish for a baby in you belly? I’d wish for dango in my belly,” Mouse answered, always thinking with her stomach. Just like her Papa. 

“Master Sukuna, I have brought afternoon tea,” Uraume said, entering the room and kneeling down with a tray.

“Urau-rau. You happy about the baby?” Mouse asked.

“I’ll hold out judgement until we see how well it behaves,” Uraume answered in typical Uraume fashion.

“No be worried, Urau-rau. I’ll teach it to be good like me!” Mouse said happily, reaching for one of the So cookies on the tray with the tea.

“That’s exactly what I am worried about,” Uraume muttered, pouring the tea.

Sukuna laughed and reached out a hand to ruffle Mouse’s hair. She looked up at him and gave him a big grin with crumbs all over her face. He wiped them off gently with his thumb. “You’ll be a great older sister, Mouse.”

“I know,” she smiled. She then shoved her half eaten cracker at his belly mouth and loudly said, “Now say ‘ahhhh’ Papa!”

Sukuna sighed, rolling his eyes. He moved a hand to link with yours and gave you a wink before lolling open his belly mouth and with it doing an exaggerated, “Ahhhhhh.”

Mouse laughed loudly as he ate the other half of the So from her hand and quickly grabbed another. “Again, please and thank you, Papa! Again!”

“You started it,” you laughed as he gave you a look of annoyance over the enthusiastic toddlers head.

“And I’m gonna finish it too,” he said loudly. He snatched Mouse up into his arms, flopping onto his back and holding her up in the air over him. 

Mouse let out a loud laugh, clutching the cookie in her hand as she dangled over her father. “Put me down, Papa! I gonna drop my So!”

He sighed and brought her down so she laid on his chest. She moved up to rest her head under his chin as she had done her whole life, sighing happily. With the cookie still clasped in her tiny hand she looked at you with eyes suddenly ready for a nap. “Papa?”

“Yes?” he asked, rubbing her back.

“Even with baby… I still be Papa’s girl?”

“You will always be Papa’s girl. Nothing and no one could ever change that. Foolish child,” he said with no bite to his words. He kissed the top of her head.

“Okay. Then we can keep baby.” she smiled. “I’ll be a big good sister. I promise.”

“You will be, Mouse,” you smiled, taking the cookie from her hand. Nothing put her to sleep faster than being in her father’s arms. It was a sight you loved to see. “You’ll be a great big sister. I just know it.”

“Papa?” Mouse said sleepily, reaching up a hand to play with his ear, a silly little thing she had done most of her life for comfort.

“Yes Mouse?” he asked, eyes closed, enjoying the peaceful serenity of this moment in time.

“You no eat the baby. Okay?”

He shook his head, and grinned. “I make no promises.”

You shook your head and laughed at the two of them. As you started to move away, Sukuna reached out a hand to grab your arm and pull you down to lay with him. The arm he wrapped around you settled protectively over your belly. You snuggled into him and closed your eyes, happiness filling every fiber of your being. To be loved by the King of Curses was truly a beautiful thing.

[agentpeggycarterrogers]

She was so lucky to have him; he’d support every idea, every dream, every ambition, and he’d inspire her to find new dreams. How many women could claim that about their husbands? He was a rare one, her Steve. “You are the most wonderful man and the love of my life too,” she said. 

Peggy nodded. “We’ll just have to see them all. We’ll have to plan anniversary trips, or you can travel with me for work and we’ll sightsee. You just make me want to see even more of the world.” She beamed at him. “You know so much about the world. Now I can’t wait to see it all with you.”

She was quite finished with her lunch so she sat back in her chair, satisfied with her meal - but also to marvel at Steve. 

“I feel like you said you always had a shortage of friends growing up. It was always just Mr. Barnes. And then you found this whole group to bond with in the future. Heroes, friends, family, and a king. I’m happy you had so many friends. I’m sorry you left them behind. But I promise, darling, we’ll find some nice people to befriend, and I’ll always be happy to have you with me too. We’ll also have the Jarvises of course. I promise we won’t ever be lonely.”

@steven-g-rogers

“Even if I don’t publish it, I should still write it - perhaps our children would like to know our story. I could write about my spy work, wartime, meeting you, losing you, my time with the SSR, and how you came back to me, this honeymoon. I should just start writing.” She’d never attempted to write anything like this before; Peggy wasn’t a bad writer, but she was used to more technical papers and articles. This would certainly bring out her creative side. 

“Even if it’s not any good, I think it would still be good to write down and preserve our story.” 

Peggy’s breath caught in her throat as he whispered into her ear. “Is every day too much?” she asked, still breathless. Goodness, how could he still have this affect on her?

“I think it counts,” she said. “You’ve still been there. But we can always go back. I’d like to go to Egypt. Really, I’d like to go anywhere with you. I like learning about the world and the people in it.” Her eyes grew wide. “The king? Steve, that’s amazing.”  

@steven-g-rogers

[fuck-customers]

I’m still salty about this like 4 years after the fact. Covid had recently started so mask mandates were up and running. A regular came through the store and later had her husband call to complain that I “should be happy to have a job” since I apparently looked angry while helping her.

Thing is I was having a really good day up until that call! There was a minor issue with her order that required some brain power to figure out so while thinking I knit my eyebrows together. And since she couldn’t see the lower half of my face she decided I was mad about having to do my job! Thankfully my manager at the time was a decent person who understood how faces work.

I don’t work there anymore and this story is part of the reason I refuse to work retail since.

Posted by admin Rodney

[mi-olaaa]

Sleepyhead..

Fem!reader, husband!suguru, pregnant!reader, fluff, plussize and black reader as always pookie! 🤭 enjoy!

☆ ⋆.˚ ᡣ𐭩 .𖥔˚ ☆

↳˗ˏˋ Jjk m.list..ˊˎ˗ ☆

“Will you be there in the morning? To love me, love me, love me?”

It was a calm and bright morning when your fiancé Suguru, woke up with an urge to cater to his sleeping wife (at least that’s what he’s been calling you since he put that huge ass rock on your finger), and while you were enjoying the comfort of your bed, tangled in the sheets with your feet dangling over the edge of the bed, he decided to cook you breakfast.

Carefully rolling out of bed, mindful of your baby bump, you and him both know that when it comes to the lil’ peanut you feel every and anything touching on you, he slips out of bed unnoticed— then proceeds to bust his ass on the pregnancy pillow you probably threw off the bed at some point with how wild you sleep. Mission failed successfully..

“Shit—” Suguru lifted his head from off the floor to look at your face, you were still knocked-out cold, sobbing and shit. He stifled a laugh as he got up, going downstairs and straight to the kitchen before he actually woke you up. Suguru opened the fridge, looking for something to make, his eyes landing on eggs and chicken strips. He found bacon too, but decided on the chicken, knowing how the smell and taste of pork had you feeling sick lately since you’ve reached 26 weeks.

He also grabbed some waffle mix, feeling that you would probably appreciate him using the waffle maker you so desperately needed at Target a couple of weeks ago. Suguru was just grabbing a bowl to mix up the eggs when he heard the telltale sign of you waking up, the bathroom door shutting. He just rolled his eyes, continuing to mix up the eggs and putting them on the skillet. You were such a diva in the morning that he just had to laugh— even before the baby.

You were currently in the bathroom, brushing your teeth and washing your face, waddling around the bathroom to grab a towel. Once you were done, you called out to your fiancé, wanting to see his face this morning. “SUGURU!! C’MERE.” You yelled at the top of your lungs, and it must’ve been funny, ‘cause you couldn’t even breathe, wheezing as he came up the stairs like there was fire under his ass, heading to the master bathroom.

“My love—” Suguru took a deep ass breath, “You called? Is there something wrong with the baby? Is there something wrong with you?” You giggled, the poor man was out of breath, wheezing more than you were. “I’m fine, I just wanted to see my man this morning.” His eye twitched, and a very prominent vein appeared on his forehead, you mean to tell him you were screaming like a chicken with its head cut off for nothing?

He regained his composure, rolling his eyes. “You know there are other ways to get my attention, right?” And you nodded and smiled, his heart melting. He couldn’t stay mad at you, i mean look at you, you’re so beautiful, pregnancy had you glowingg! He just had so much love for you and then you had to go and be the mother of his child too? He could die happy.

Or just die. He totally forgot about breakfast, but he sure remembered when he heard the smoke detector go off. Just as quick as he got up there, he ran back downstairs to the kitchen, the damn eggs were burn as shit, literally a hard puck in the middle of the pan. You just were going down the stairs as fast as you could, at a speed of about three miles per hour..

“Sugu— what’s going on?” He whipped his head back so fast in your direction, you swore it cracked. “Nothing angel-! Just go back upstairs.” He tried to get you out the kitchen, but you’d be damned if you get burnt to a crisp in a house fire, stepping closer. “That sure seems like a lot of nothing..” You rolled your eyes, taking a seat at the kitchen island to watch the new reality tv show apparently, watching as Suguru fumbled with the pan in the kitchen sink, running water over it while one hand has the dish towel, fanning at the smoke detector unsuccessfully.

Eventually he got the kitchen under control, opening a window as well. Your fiancé just looked so defeated, leaning against the kitchen counters, hands in his hair, and you couldn’t help but appreciate his effort to cook breakfast, but you both still had to eat.

“DoorDash?”

“DoorDash.”

☆ ⋆.˚ ᡣ𐭩 .𖥔˚ ☆

Authors note: heyyy! This one is kinda short.. but I hope yall like itttt 😭 I thought it was cute so 🤷🏾‍♀️

[cal-daisies-and-briars]

Here’s some for hanging out the very very fun prom fic!! 🪩🪩🪩🪩🪩🪩🪩🪩🪩🪩🪩🪩🪩🪩🪩🪩🪩🪩🪩🪩🪩🪩🪩🪩🪩🪩🪩🪩🪩🪩🪩🪩🪩🪩🪩🪩🪩🪩🪩🪩

- Sarah

Thank you!

120 or 1k for 🪩:

---

“Okay,” Eddie replies. But he doesn’t look happy with this answer. 

Buck is frustrated by that, actually. He can’t just be tired? After the day he’s had? They have to talk about it right now? Maybe that’s hypocritical. Buck is usually the one pressing Eddie to talk. But can’t they just… Wait until morning? Fuck. 

“Okay?” Buck repeats.

“Yeah…” Eddie frowns. “I just… I just wanted to make sure we’re good.”

“Why wouldn’t we be good?” Buck asks. 

“Because today was weird and you’re currently speaking to me like I’m your adversary on a daytime court television show?”

Shit. He is sort of doing that, isn’t he? 

Buck sighs loudly. 

“Eddie, I have just had three incredibly frustrating days in a row, and I’ve been extending myself a lot lately, and I want to go to sleep, okay? That’s all I want. I’m not upset.”

Eddie offers him a sort of sympathetic frown. 

“You’ve been doing a lot,” Eddie says. “And I broke my foot at the worst possible time. I’m sorry I can’t help you more right now.”

Buck shakes his head. “It’s not even close to being your fault.”

“That doesn’t really change it, though,” Eddie says. “It sucks.”

“Yeah,” Buck says. His throat is tightening. His eyes feel a little watery. Fuck. “I just, uh… I really want things to go well.”

“I know you do,” Eddie nods. “But things are great, right? Apart from the broken foot and the busted Jeep?”

Well, he’s right. He’s right, but…

“But I…” Buck struggles. “I want to make sure Chris has the best prom experience he can. And I want to make sure we have the perfect wedding. And it really shouldn’t be this hard, but shit keeps going wrong!”

“It’s not all in your control,” Eddie says. “You know that.”

Buck wipes his eyes. “Yeah, but…”

Eddie puts his hands on Buck’s shoulders. “But nothing, Buck. Chris is going to have a great prom. We’re going to have a great wedding. It’s all okay. I promise.”

“Sorry,” Buck mumbles. “Sorry. I’m losing it a little.”

Eddie smiles, sympathetic. “That’s okay. We’ll give you a clipboard detox after and it’ll all be okay.”

Buck laughs and cries in tandem. “Do you know what the worst part is?”

“What?” Eddie asks. 

“I feel like I kind of understand where Ainslee is coming from.”

Eddie laughs brightly. “You? Really? No.” 

“Shut up,” Buck sniffs. “It’s not funny.”

“Well, it sort of is. Only if you’re just realizing now.”

“Stop,” Bug begs, unseriously. 

“Hey,” Eddie chuckles. “I get it. I can’t imagine the three of you in one vehicle.”

“You have to come with me next time,” Buck says.

“Oh, not until we’re married,” Eddie jokes. “For better or worse doesn’t start until then.” 

“You’re the worst,” Buck complains.

Eddie grins. “Can I see my surprise?”

“Absolutely not,” Buck shakes his head. “That’s for my husband. You’re just someone who won’t join me on the errands trip from hell.”

“True enough,” Eddie retorts, smirking. “Will you come to bed? I think tomorrow will be better.”

Buck takes a deep breath and nods.

“I’m not doing anything. Not a damn thing.”

“You deserve that,” Eddie agrees. 

Days to Prom: 1

Eddie has a surprisingly great sleep. Despite his foot, he’s comfortable and blissfully warm, all curled into Buck. This is much better than sleeping alone, like he thought he would that night. 

Buck needed to have that little meltdown, he thinks. He has a lot on his plate, and a lot to get off his chest. There’s a lot of stress, it turns out, in planning a happily ever after. Very different from the first wedding, where the stress was in trying to make everything seem like it wasn’t a rushed, pressured disaster. Maybe that’s why he’s so much less stressed than Buck. Regardless of what happens here, they really are marrying each other for the exact right reasons. He has nothing to worry about, even if the day falls somewhere short of perfect. Though, somehow he doubts it will.

[pelibirdie]

"A brand new year to remember"

Relationship: Kuras x (GN) reader

A/N: squint and you will see some yearning and pining between the two. Burn so slow the meat is still raw.

That being said happy late birthday to my fucked up biblically accurate guilt ridden husband

Summary: it's Kuras's birthday. Though he is not a man of celebrations, you decide to still do a small gesture for him and keep him company for his birthday.

You lounged on the sides of the clinic. The harsh smell of ointment hung in the air as Kuras treated a burn mark left from a…rather explosive celebration from the night before. By no means was it a pretty sight, but you expected such a focused face from the doctor that stitched your arms back on. His pristine white coat laid on the chair he sat on when there was too many paperwork. His hair was tied back. You could hear nothing but the sharp breaths of the patient and the light chime of his earrings. 

Kuras was a strange man. Something about him stood out like the last star on a night sky. The cruel world you knew so far seemed to not have rubbed off on the man before you. To give out free treatments and walk the streets like nothing could ever harm him… was far too strange. But it brought you comfort and made you feel safer so you decided to spend your days in Eridia helping out in his clinic. Whatever small thing you could do to take your mind off of your curse. 

“Run the water please.” 

You nodded at Kuras and made your way to the small sink of the clinic, cleaning out the bowl of ointment and the scissors. Soon enough, Kuras also came by you to wash his hands off. 

“Something on your mind?’’ 

“Well,” 

“Goodbye, doctor! Happy birthday!” The bloodhound shouted as he left. 

“It’s your birthday?!” You stared at Kuras, eyes wide with interest. He seemed to avoid your gaze, golden eyes fixating on anything but you. “Yes. I’m afraid Leander is once again making a deal out of it.” He sighed as he sat down, letting his locks fall down his tall frame. “I do not have anything against my birthday, but I’m sure you are aware of my distaste towards all the cheap drinking and the Wet Wick. You need not make a big deal out of it. Please. Big celebrations get messy often.” 

You approached him slowly, standing before where he sat. “Alright, I’m not going to ‘make a big deal out of it’. However,’’ You placed a hand on his shoulder, gently swiping away one of the strands of hair off his collarbone. “I am still your friend. And I do think it’ll be nice to step out of the clinic for one night.”  A ghost of a smile crept up its way to the renowned doctors' lips. Kuras slowly took your hand, not removing it from his shoulder. Simply holding it as he stared into your eyes. 

You must look somewhat sheepish and nervous. Because the doctors’ face went cat-ish to your reaction. Eyes turning sharp with amusement. He always had eyes that stood out, bright, golden, unnatural but captivating nonetheless. “I’d be up for that. But only for the evening.” He leaned forward onto his desk resting his right elbow on the hard wood, still holding your hand without breaking eye contact. “You can leave if you please, I doubt the amount of people who made bad decisions when drunk last night is going to lessen in the coming hour or two.” You took a step towards the desk, slowly sitting on it to remain at a higher eye level than him. “Or the third, or the fourth,” you joked.

“So much for the yearly celebrations. I suppose Eridians know how to have fun every once in a while, no?”  

Kuras shook his head “Let them have it, people barely have a good time nowadays.” His eyes fell down again. A small silence followed his words. Only then you notice small changes in his frame, his messier hair, hands dyed in some herbs he used for the ointment, and eyes more tired than usual. “And I will be there to aid them whenever they do make bad desicions.” 

You slowly moved your hand to his arm, giving small caresses to his shoulder with your thumb. Your hands were covered with the bandages, but you also had the gloves you wore around the clinic on. You were used to giving fleeting touches, but these gloves were making you bolder. You cursed in your head, paranoia slowly creeping back into your head. You took your hand off of Kuras, getting up to grab your coat for the cold winter day waiting for you outside the clinics' doors. You smiled as you opened the door, feeling the wind on your skin.

“I’ll see you tonight, doctor.”

“Stay safe, (Y/N).”

The day went by concerningly fast as you went through the market, looking through herbs, scarves, trinkets…anything to get the doctor for his birthday. At least whatever you could afford for now. You looked at the pouch you got while walking back. Staring at the gift to ensure it is safe. You quickly made your way to the Wet Wick, asking Leander for a pen and paper. Soon, you are up in your room writing away. It doesn't occur to you that the sun has set until the Wet Wick starts getting unbearably loud. You run down with your jacket and your gift, dodging the crowd around the bar. “Hey (Y/N)! Have you seen Kuras?’ Leander called from the other side of the Wick, “No sorry!” was all you could shout before making it out of the Wet Wick. 

You sped through the streets. Though it was not safe to wander at night, you had hoped at least your pace and the lit-up streets would make getting to the clinic easier for you. But all thought came to a halt as you heard a wet, crunching noise. A noise of bones being broken and flesh being torn. A noise too familiar. Suddenly you were sprinting, checking behind you every once in a while until you ran face-first to someone. “I didn’t expect you to be this excited.” You breathed a sigh of relief upon seeing his tall frame. Sensing you are shaken up, Kuras held you by your shoulders. “Be not afraid, I am here. Let’s walk towards more light.” 

“Ah, sorry about the scare Kuras. I heard something then-” 

“It is alright, (Y/N). What matters is you are safe.”

Conversation takes over the two of you as you walk and wander through Eridia. Seeing the Amaryllis District's colorful decorations from the celebrations before, sensing the strong smell of fried dough and hearing the shouts of vendors from the stalls, tasting some swirly eridian desert with cinnamon in it (though Kuras seemed to lose the pastry the moment he hold it, leaving you confused as you did not even see him take a bite) the night came to a calm point. 

So far you had discussed about Eridia, how you had somewhat adapted to the city, the celebration yesterday, and certain interesting things you noticed in Kuras’s practice. The conversation gave itself away to peaceful silence as you stood on the bridge between Hightown and Lowtown. Somewhere far in Hightown, you could hear the faint sound of a lute being played. The nights were much less chaotic here. 

“So, how old are you now?”

“Old.” 

“Oh come on, I know that already-”

“Oh are you saying I look old?”

“Kuras!” 

He chuckles to himself as he leans on one of the statues. The night is clear, the stars are bright, and the wind is gentler than it was that afternoon. You take out the pouch and the letter, holding them out to Kuras.

“Happy birthday, Kuras. I hope this year is better than the previous ones.” 

Kuras’s gaze meets your own, his golden eyes and jewelry contrasting the bright moonlight, his hair ticking his face and neck. Kuras looks almost glowing as he takes the items from your hands. “You didn’t need to.” “It was about wanting to. And I did. But please read that letter when I’m not around.” you scratched your neck and looked back at the sky. Kuras blinked, once looking at his full hands and then at you. Suddenly choosing to move much closer to you, until his white coat is touching the warm wool of the cloak he got you when you first came to Eridia. 

“Thank you. (Y/N). I have lost track of my many birthdays, but your presence makes this celebration one to remember.” 

…It felt quite warm all of a sudden. 

[stoshasaurus]

a crudely rendered Gabriel in crudely rendered blood

[the-golden-comet]

My husband called me his “cute little twink,” and I have been beaming about it all day. I fucking love this man. ✨🌈✨

You now know more about me than you wanted or cared to know. Sorry not sorry, I’m all about love, and I’m proud of who I am and who I married ✌️💍✨

Happy pride, everyone! 🌈✨

[xanadontit]

What I want to do today: sit on my ass and stare into space.

What I’m going to do today: Get a blowout, do my makeup, Spanx up and put on a dress, and be sociable at a wedding.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Try, Try, Try 2

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics including adultery and trying to conceive. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Character: husband!Andy Barber, friend!Thor

masterlist - to be added

Summary: your husband puts high expectations on you but you don’t think you’ll ever be enough for him.

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging ❤️

You’re not entirely enthused for the cooking class. The taint of Andy’s intentions follows you down to the community centre, that echoing reminder that you’re inadequate. There is a part of you that cherishes the distraction, the moment outside the house when you’re not mopping or tittering around to make sure everything is perfect. Even so, it’s only to make sure that you don’t give your husband another reason to rant. 

As you enter, you’re greeted by the rather bouncy instructor. She introduces herself a Barb. She’s plump and her pixie cut is died a shade of purplish red. You give her your name and she checks you off the list. 

You look around as she sends you off to find a work station. You’re drawn to a familiar face. You smile and cross the room. 

“Hey, Porsha,” you approach your neighbour. “I thought you’d be home with the twins.” 

She turns to preen at you. Her perfectly highlighted hair ripples in soft waves and you wouldn’t guess that she’s three months postpartum. She greets you with a tilt of her head. 

“Oh, hi, how are you?” 

“Um, okay. How are you feeling? How are the boys?” You ask. 

“A lot. Timothy’s still on his business trip so the nanny’s with the tots. I needed a break,” she explains with a sigh. You see her live-in nanny often; dark-haired woman often dragging out the garbage or schlupping round the stroller. “Mandy’s on her way. We signed up together.” She looks behind her at the counter, “I’m saving her a spot.” 

You glance over and realise each station is made only for two. You take the hint with grace. Her and Mandy were always close. In fact, all the women in the neighbourhood knew each other better than you knew any of them. You’re still the new one and your family is still incomplete. 

“Right, well, I hope you enjoy the class,” you smile. 

“Oh yes, I pumped before I came so I can enjoy some wine. You get a glass to cook with,” she chimes. 

“Ah, that’s... cool. Well, I’ll go find a place,” you point over your shoulder with your thumb. 

You turn and a squeal erupts across the room. Mandy taps furiously over to Porscha, passing you without notice, and the two bounce and hug. You could use some of that wine but you’re not drinking. You promised Andy. 

You find a station in the corner, far from your neighbours. You feel left out even if they don’t mean to exclude you. It’s hard not to when every time you see them, you’re just sort of there and more interested in each other. 

Barb’s full voice fills the room as she welcomes the newcomers. You focus on the counter top, taking in the sink, the cooktop, and the various pieces set out for your work. You’re not so sure about this anymore. You’ll go home and try it on your own then prove to Andy that you will always be mediocre. 

“Pardon,” a thunderous timbre pulls you from your self-pity. You raise your chin as you bat your lashes at the rather large man at the corner of the counter. He smiles. He’s familiar but you don’t think he’s from the neighbourhood, “do you mind if I share? Barb says we should have a partner and my brother declined my invite.” 

“Oh, um,” you look around. The other stations are full. You shrug, “sure, that’s okay.” 

“Wonderful,” he booms in his boisterous voice. You narrow your eyes at him and tilt your head as you try to pluck out where you know him from. 

He’s tall and broad, blonde hair past his shoulders, the front strands pulled back into a runic clip, and he wears a button-up that threatens to split as the buttons strain over his chest. He turns to stand parallel to you and grabs the tongs, clacking them contently. 

You sense the attention of another. You lean to see around the man as Porscha and Mandy whisper behind their hands and stare. You frown and teeter on your toes. 

“Forgive me,” he snaps the tongs again. “I’ve not introduced myself. Thor.” 

“Thor...” you repeat then give your name as his snags in your head. “Thor... you’re not...” you squint at him. 

“Hm, I hoped I’d not draw suspicion,” he tries to make himself smaller in a rather comical way for someone so big. “It is I, yes.” 

“What...” 

“I found this place on a map. I thought perhaps somewhere smaller might afford me some discretion,” he turns his head as he continues to toy with the tongs and he glances around at those peeking at him. “Your planet is rather small and reputations do spread far and wide.” 

“Right, uh, well, yeah, it must be awkward.” 

“Mm, it is not something I’m unused to. I am known across the nine realms and beyond.” He turns back. “But, since I have chosen to reside here for a time, I thought I might learn the customs. The food. I’ve been eating a lot of pizza and well...” he looks down and pats his stomach, the fabric just as taut there. “It’s accumulated.” 

You can’t help but laugh, “mm, pizza. I haven’t had any in ages.” 

“No? In New York, it is everywhere. I find myself inundated.” He declares. “I understand we are to cook... alfr-ee-doo.” 

“Alfredo,” you correct him. “Looks like we’ll be making our own pasta too,” you point at the press. 

“Pasta. Mmm, yes, I do enjoy the dish.” He nods as he scratches his beard with the tongs. He can’t seem to stop his fidgeting. “And what brings the lady to the cookery?” 

“Oh, uh, my husband signed me up,” you say, tucking your hands behind you.  

“He did? And he did not accompany you?” He inquires. “How unfortunate. Were she still speaking to me, I’d have asked my... former acquaintance Jane, but she is far too busy and wise for me. I must admit I was hesitant to attend alone.” 

You nod, “I’m sorry. That’s too bad.” 

“Not very bad. I’ve met you. A lovely young lady,” he proclaims and gestures to you with the tongs. “I can already see you will be a partner preferable to my brother. He is not very skilled at collaboration. I would need to mind the knives.” 

You chuckle again. It feels good to laugh. You only realise then, how long it’s been since you’ve done so genuinely. 

[foreststepp]

i’m crying because he looks like he’s cunty standing but it’s all because of light 😭😭 they tried to give him his pose from patho classic but lost

[wildsaltair]

happy new year everybody and especially Maximus 💕 my new years resolution is to become even more obsessed with him which is news to no one but fun for me hehehehe

[sweetimpurity]

©️A1