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Aim for the Sky Part 31 | Rooster x Reader
Summary: Everything starts to get very real once you're able to feel the baby move. It's time to share the news of your second pregnancy with family and friends, but it's hard to feel elated when Bradley starts showing attention to one of his pilots after work hours.
Warnings: Angst, adult language, body image, DILF Roo, oral sex, pregnancy topics, mentions abortion, lactation kink, jealousy, drinking
Length: 3600 words
Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female Reader
Aim for the Sky masterlist. This was written to accompany my series Is It Working For You? along with a bunch of my one-shots and other series, but it can be read on its own! Check my masterlist for the reading order.
If you weren't pregnant and exhausted, Bradley would have been concerned by how quiet you were. You seemed to need a nap as soon as you got home from work, and then you wanted to go to bed right after Rose went down in her crib each evening. When he got home quite late on Friday after working on some transfer paperwork for several hours, he was surprised to find that you seemed a little more upbeat than usual.
"Hey, Roo."
You were wearing a pair of his gym shorts while you made dinner. The house smelled delicious, and his stomach started growling as soon as he walked inside. He picked Rose up from her playmat, taking her into the kitchen as he smothered her in kisses before transferring them to you.
"You feeling okay? How's Nugget Part Deux?"
"We're exhausted. Rose is the only one with energy right now."
He supposed that was better than you telling him you couldn't stop throwing up. So far, baby number two seemed to be giving you less grief when it came to eating. "We can nap all weekend," he promised. "How was your day?"
"Pretty good," you told him with a shrug. "How was your day?"
He glanced out the back door at the enormous jungle gym, eyeing it up as an option for him and Rose to play after dinner. "Just busy. Everyone keeps me on my toes all day long. These pilots are really talented."
You seemed to wrinkle your nose at his words, staring at the food cooking on the stove as you muttered, "I'll bet they are."
Rose seemed keen on the idea of the backyard, so he kissed her soft cheek. "Yeah, I can barely keep up with them in the air, but don't tell them that. I've got my head on a swivel the whole time. Indigo and Rex nearly took me out today, and I had to go into a dive. And starting on Monday, I'm going to give myself some extra office hours to stay on top of my paperwork."
Instead of responding about his day, you started to dish out the food onto two plates with your back turned to him. "After we eat, I need to call my parents before it's too late. They're putting their house on the market next week, and I think I'm just going to tell them I'm pregnant and get it over with. I've put it off long enough."
Bradley's brow creased. "They'll be excited though. Right? I mean, maybe not as excited as me, but still excited."
You shrugged again, and he thought he might lose his mind if you kept doing it. "Aren't you at least a little worried there could be some sort of complications from having them so close together?"
A sardonic laugh almost burst from his lips. "Baby Girl, I worry about you and Rosie and the new baby constantly. Okay? Nonstop. But we can't go back now. You're already almost in the second trimester. Hey," he said, swallowing hard as you finally turned and looked at him. He held Rose just a little tighter as he whispered, "We're married. We're happy, right? You're not actually thinking about ending your pregnancy, are you?"
"No," you replied quickly, shaking your head. Bradley desperately wanted to know if there was some way he could make this easier for you, because he didn't want you to resent what was happening. But you just started crying as you shrugged again. "I just feel like our timing is terrible. And I know I have to start telling people, because I'm already showing a little bit, but I'm just so frustrated, Bradley."
He never dreamed the two of you would go from trying for months to get pregnant with Rose to being frustrated about a second pregnancy, but here you were. "I realize you've got to do most of the work right now, but when I tell you that I want another baby and that I'm excited about this, I mean it."
"I know!" you whispered quickly. "I know." You swiped at your tears before wrapping your arms around him and Rose.
"Is something else bothering you?" he murmured when your cheek came to rest on his bicep. He couldn't imagine what else could be the matter, but he needed to make sure.
You were silent for a few beats before whispering, "I'm fine. Let's facetime my parents."
For how excited your mom was to move to California, she didn't seem to notice that your eyes looked like you'd been crying. She kept talking about selling their furniture and packing everything up. She mentioned how much she wanted to see Rose in person as she fussed over her on the video call. Just as she was starting to discuss their new house in Coronado that would make them his neighbors, Bradley heard you blurt out, "I'm pregnant."
Your parents both looked stunned on the other end of the call. "You're pregnant," your mom said, eyes drifting back to Rose in Bradley's arms. "Already?"
Now both parents were staring at Bradley as he said, "Yeah... due in April."
"April Fool's Day," you said softly.
Your parents broke out into twin grins. "I'm assuming this was a surprise to the two of you?" your dad asked. When you nodded silently, he added, "A happy surprise at least! Congratulations. You're about to have your hands very full."
"It's a good thing we're moving!" your mom practically shrieked. "Two under two! Two babies! What if you have twins?"
"We're not," Bradley replied. Then he froze. "It's not twins. Right, Sweetheart?" Now he was a little scared as you turned to look at him and laugh.
"There was just one heartbeat, Roo. Just one."
His shoulders sagged in relief. "I mean, the more the merrier, but that would be a lot."
He let Rose nap against his chest while he rubbed circles against your lower back, and soon enough, your parents were ending the call with the promise that they would be in Coronado for Christmas. "We'll either be living there by then or we'll fly out for the holiday if our house here hasn't sold yet."
Everything sounded good to Bradley, and five minutes after the call ended, you fell asleep on him, too.
----------------------------
When you fell asleep on Cam's shoulder at brunch on Sunday, you figured it was time to tell him and Maria what was going on.
"I'm pregnant. Again."
Maria jumped out of her seat to cram into the opposite of the booth, sandwiching you between her and Cam. "Damn, girl! You've wasted no time!"
"Lieutenant Commander Mustache is working with some high fucking quality goods, huh?" Cam marveled, shaking his head slowly in reverence. "Congratulations."
"Thanks," you whispered, voice harsh and near tears. You had no control over your emotions. This was just like when you were pregnant with Rose, but with less vomiting and more fatigue. Everything made you upset enough that you wanted to cry or angry enough that you wanted to kick down a door. Including your husband.
You answered Cam and Maria's questions as you thought about that woman you'd seen around base with Bradley a few times. They were never alone, always part of a larger group, but you didn't like how she looked at him. And you didn't want to mention it to him, because you knew how ridiculous it was going to sound.
"Hey, I'm really tired," you eventually told your friends. "Do this again in two weeks?" You wanted to go home and nap while Bradley still had Rose out for a walk along the beach. You just wanted to be alone.
"Of course," Maria promised. "I'll text Bob to come pick me up, but you two can go on ahead."
"I'll wait with you," Cam told her, giving you a kiss on the cheek.
You made your way out and went home, leaning against the front door in relief when you found the house completely empty. Even Tramp and his yellow leash were gone. You ran to bed, curled up under the covers, and cradled your hand against your belly. It was impossible to tell if you had a baby bump, or if you were still chubby from last time.
Your thumb ran along the top of your leggings as you started to cry. You needed to pull yourself together. Did you cry this much with Rose? Did everything make you feel like you looked disgusting? Eventually you dozed for about an hour before the sound of the front door closing jolted you awake. Rose started screaming, probably hungry after being out for so long. You rolled out of bed, avoiding your reflection in the mirror at all costs, and went to meet them in the kitchen.
Bradley was trying to bounce Rose to keep her quiet, but you yanked your shirt off and reached for her. "Sorry," he muttered as your daughter latched on to eat as soon as she was touching you. "I tried."
"It's okay."
You fed one baby while you considered that her younger sibling was growing inside you, and for once, you couldn't figure out if you wanted to laugh or cry.
While she ate, Bradley looked at his phone and groaned. "Nat wants us to go to the Hard Deck tonight."
The idea of going out and pretending that you were drinking alcohol was too much to handle. Even if you could find someone to watch Rose, it didn't sound like a fun time.
"You go," you told him.
He glanced up and said, "I don't want to go without you."
A smile graced your lips as you told him, "Just go for one drink with your best friend. I'll drop you off and pick you up. You can tell her I'm pregnant if you want to."
"Really?" he asked, perking up like Tramp did when presented with a treat.
"Yeah. I told Maria and Cam earlier. I actually fell asleep on his shoulder in the booth, and when I woke up, they were both gaping at me. I figured I needed to say something."
Bradley snorted. "What did they have to say about Bradshaw Baby number two?"
"Cam is under the impression that you are working with some high quality equipment."
He burst into laughter. "I mean..."
You rolled your eyes as Rose switched to your other side. It was easy to feel better about things when it was just the three of you at home. You looked at your husband as he ate an apple in four bites and convinced yourself he would never do anything to hurt you. Then he drank half a beer and belched while he adjusted his junk, and you thought perhaps nobody else would want to deal with him anyway.
"I'll text Nat back. Then I'll pull the weeds around the playset while I decide what I'm doing about the bar."
You let Rose take a nap, but now that you'd also had one, you felt a little restless. Even after you did a few chores, including looking at items for a second baby nursery online, you wanted to get out of the house again. When Bradley came inside, stripping his sweaty shirt over his head, he said, "One drink. Don't leave me there too long, okay?"
"Is Jake going, too? Maybe I'll see if Cat and Jer are home and want visitors."
"That's a great idea," he replied, taking your hand when he walked past. When he gave you a little tug, you didn't move. "You coming?" he asked, clearly puzzled.
"Where?"
"What do you mean where?" he scoffed, tugging again. "To take a shower with me while Rose naps. Where else?"
It was hard to think about anything when your husband was on his knees in front of you, steamy water swirling around his tattooed bicep while his hands pinned you to the tile wall. But it was especially hard to focus on anything other than the feel of his mouth on your body. The scrape of his mustache. The pull of his lips. Soft and demanding and needy.
"Roo," you gasped, lungs full of the humid air, sucking in deep breaths as he looked up at you.
"God, Baby Girl," he rasped, thumb teasing your dainty rooster tattoo. "I'm so spoiled. Your tits look so pretty, and your belly will be big again soon."
You let your fingers drag through his wet curls, pushing them back from his forehead while he kissed the spot where you felt so tender as the baby grew.
"Roo!" you gasped, your hands both flying to your belly. "The baby! I can feel the baby moving!"
"Shit, really?"
His eyes were wide, alert with anticipation as you moved his palm to the spot where you could feel squirming. He eased himself closer on his knees, the shower hitting both of you with warm spray while he let you guide him. You felt it again, just another squirm as you pressed his palm harder to your belly.
"Right there," you whispered, and he closed his eyes. Your heart beat in your ears, an undeniably excited rhythm.
"I can't wait to feel it, too," he murmured, his cheek coming to rest against his hand. "You couldn't feel Rose this early."
"No," you agreed, watching your husband fall even more in love with the unborn baby. "Maybe another week or two and they'll be big enough for you to feel it." You played with his hair, letting him stay put until the water started to get cold.
-------------------------------
"I'll pick you up in a little while," you informed Bradley when you pulled into the parking lot at the Hard Deck. "Jake is already here, so I'll take Rose to hang out with Cat and Jer for a bit."
"Sounds good." He kissed you before unbuckling and leaning into the backseat to kiss his daughter. He was still shocked and in a mild daze over the baby moving during the shower. He wanted to feel those kicks against his palm, and now he'd be all over you in the upcoming weeks, looking for his chance.
"Have fun," you called before pulling away in your Bronco, but going to the bar to hang out without you was not his idea of a great night. He decided he'd just wait and see how the evening progressed before making a decision about telling Nat about the pregnancy. He smiled as he wondered how long it would be until you had to start wearing the maternity tent to work again.
"There you are!" shouted Nat when he walked past the bar, waving to Penny. "We're about to play pairs. You're with Hangman. Rack 'em, Rooster."
Bradley sighed and took the pool cue as she thrust it into his hand. "Can't I get a beer first?"
She turned and shouted, "Hey, Coyote! Get Rooster one!"
Javy saluted him from the bar as Bradley nodded and settled in to start the game. He and Jake wouldn't even have to try too hard to beat Nat and Reuben, but as he got into the groove of things, he realized he was having a pretty good time.
"You want another?" Jake asked him, and soon one beer turned into three. Bradley ended up buying the fourth round for his friends when Mickey arrived. He had enough in his system to not give a shit when Jake started ribbing on him for his new position at work.
"The way your students all jump to attention when they see you has got to be the funniest fucking thing I've ever seen in my life," he drawled, and Bradley nudged his foot, making him miss his shot.
"I'm still in shock that Cat agreed to marry you," Bradley replied before taking a sip of beer.
Jake rolled his eyes. "I'm surprised Angel let you get her pregnant. Shocked the baby didn't come out with a mustache."
Nat was cackling while Bradley snorted. "She's pregnant again." The words slipped out, but they felt too fucking good on his tongue, just like your body had in the shower.
"What?!"
He was instantly surrounded by his friends while Nat wrapped him up in a hug. "Are you serious? Another one so soon?" she asked with a suspicious looking smirk.
"Yeah," he replied, letting her squeeze him until he thought she might displace a rib. "Apparently I'm working with some high quality equipment."
"Ew!" Nat shrieked, letting go of him while Jake shook his hand.
"Poor Angel," he drawled. "She'll have another little Bradshaw on the loose soon."
"Whiskey shots on me," Reuben said, slapping Bradley hard on the back.
"Thanks, man," he replied while conversation about the baby settled to a normal volume. He drank his shot of whiskey, and that's when he realized he was actually kind of drunk.
The game of pool wore on, but nobody seemed to be keeping track of who won. So he kept going until his phone vibrated in his jeans pocket.
Baby Girl Bradshaw: I'm almost there. Rose fell asleep.
"I have to run," Bradley announced, dropping his cue into Jake's hand.
"You're so fucking whipped," Jake drawled. "Get out of here and knock your wife up again.... oh, wait."
Bradley gave him and everyone else double middle fingers behind his back as he walked toward the exit. He was tired and warm and buzzed, and he wanted to curl up next to you in bed and kiss the back of your neck. And maybe you'd let him look at your gorgeous tits. Maybe if he was really good, you'd let him taste you. The evening air hit his body, igniting so much need in him.
"Oh, sorry," he grunted, nearly plowing over someone in his rush to get to the parking lot.
"Lieutenant Commander Bradshaw," came a now familiar voice. Blue eyes flashed up at him along with a smile that kept growing.
Indigo was dressed in street clothes, but he tried not to take notice as he nodded. "I knew you'd find The Hard Deck without my help."
She laughed, bright and clear as he tried to step past her. "Don't tell me you're leaving for the night."
A little pout found her lips, and Bradley nodded. "Yeah. It's getting late for a Sunday."
"Come on," she whined, the back of her hand brushing his as he made his way around her. "Let me buy you one drink."
His mind was still gooey with thoughts of taking you to bed as he shook his head. "Thanks, but I really need to go. Enjoy your night."
Then Nat burst through the door, movements slowing when she met his eyes. "You left your phone on the pool table." She tossed it to him, coordination pretty good for how much she'd had to drink. She started backing up toward the door as she said, "You better go home with your pregnant wife!"
Bradley smiled at his friend, but he could feel Indigo's eyes on him as he stepped off the deck toward the parking lot. And there you were, standing in the first aisle with your back against the red Bronco. Your lips were set in a firm line, and Bradley was about to make it his personal mission to kiss away that expression.
------------------------------
That younger woman was here with him. You'd seen her around base plenty of times lately, but now she was here. At the Hard Deck. At your favorite bar in your neighborhood. She was with your husband at the bar. They were already standing there together when you drove up and parked.
"Who is that woman?" you snapped at Bradley who was clearly drunk. His hands were all over your waist and hips as soon as he reached you.
"Hey, Sweetheart." His voice was deep and sexy, and you wanted nothing more than to melt into him, but she was still staring you down.
"Who. Is. She?" you hissed, your eyes starting to burn with unshed tears as you stared back. Bradley was kissing your neck now as the woman finally turned and went inside the bar. You already knew who she was. You were sure of it. You'd heard him use her call sign countless times, but you wanted him to say it now. "Bradley!"
"Huh?" he grunted, meeting your eyes.
"Who is that woman you were just with?"
"Natasha?" he asked, and you wanted to scream.
"The other woman, Bradley."
"Oh. That's Indigo."
Your heart sank as soon as he confirmed it for you, but he didn't seem to notice or care that you suddenly felt like your skin was on fire. That woman who was still so fresh out of flight school was already a top pilot, and she was beautiful, and she wanted your husband.
"Baby Girl," he moaned next to your ear. "Let's go home. Maybe we can get in bed and snuggle while I try to feel the baby move? Or you could let me finish what we started in the shower? I'm already so wound up."
You opened the passenger side door for him, slamming it shut as soon as he was inside. You glared at the entrance to the Hard Deck before heading around the Bronco to drive him home.
-----------------------------
Either way, it still looks bad, Bradley. We are riding along with all of BG's emotions, and it's a lot to handle. Thanks for reading. More coming soon. Thanks @beyondthesefourwalls
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How do you think each era of Leon, would be like, not after, but before the deed with his s/o? 😝
Hello!
Thank you for the request! I've never really thought about this before so this was really fun! I hope you like it.
Warnings: slight SMUT, Sexual Tension, 18+ Only GN! Reader RE2, RE4R, Infinite Darkness, Damnation, RE6, Vendetta, Death Island
RE2:
Okay so I don't really think of Rookie Leon being inexperienced but rather he's just nervous about it
I think he would be shy about his skill set but he's actually a god at sex
That being said you would have to be the one to initiate it.
He's too nervous to make the first move because he's afraid he has picked up the wrong social cues.
He would fumble around a lot and probably have a stupid smile if you led him to wherever.
Like he's just happy to be there really
Instant boner, like it's rock hard. You poke it and it isn't squidgy in the slightest
You are concerned about how hard so quickly.
RE4R:
I think he's a lot softer in his approach. Almost like he's cautious and weary in case you don't want it
however that being said, he is not subtle in his touches
THE most touchy-feely person ever.
I'm talking like he will walk past you and place his hands on your side.
If he needs something on the top shelf he's pressing himself against you. Making sure you can feel his boner on your ass
When cuddling he's rubbing your skin slowly getting lower and lower until he's getting closer to a more sensitive area
Infinite Darkness:
He wouldn't give you subtle hints about what he wants to do.
He's probably standing there looking at you with a raging hard on
Won't mention it or draw attention to it, as he is waiting for you to make the first move or notice
If you didn't for a while and he got impatient then he would take matters in his own hands
I'm talking like walking over to you and pressing it in your hip or ass
Or if you are sat down the thing is in your face as he looks down at you.
Like he's big so you and clearly see what he wants
If he was working and came home wanting it, he's just dragging you.
Doesn't matter where you are, it's instant like you have to fix it for him
Damnation:
I think this is where gets a little more demanding from you in terms of it
Like hell make sure it's scheduled in regularly
You don't care, it's cute seeing this older guy not be able to hold back
He'll come back from where, slightly tipsy and just instantly upon you
Probably a bit rough with his touches
Loves groping your breasts and ass
If you are in public he's touching you more, closer to you when you are both walking.
RE6:
If he's out or not at home but is going to be later he's sending you a dick pick
Doesn't matter where he is or you, he's finding a place to at least send a photo of his bulge or the actual boner itself
Probably captions it like "look at what you do to me" or something
Would also send texts like "you better be prepared when I get home"
He's not going to shy away from the subject or admitting what he wants
He'll just tell you
It's the same as if he's there with you, he'll just ask if you're in the mood.
If you are then he's instantly getting you ready..if not then well he would respect it and wait until you are.
Vendetta:
The roughest out of all of them. By rough I just mean possessive and demanding.
Like he's using this as an escape.
He's needy too so it's like lots of touches or groping
His hands are everywhere. Even being as bold as rubbing your nipples through your shirt. Or your clit through your underwear
When he's drunk it's even worse.
He's doing the same but might be slightly harder because hks brain is fuzzy and can't control his movements
His words are unclear so it takes you a while to understand what he's actually asking you for.
Leon does however still understand and do foreplay - he's a gentleman like that
He needs you properly prepped
Death Island:
GENTLE
Like he's teasing you throughout the day, giving you small hints etc
But he's gentle about it and will back off immediately if you aren't in the mood
Clingy again, like he's just there
You turn around and he's leaning against the doorway with that damn smirk
I'm talking like his arms are above his head
Has done that and lost his grip before
He's like a shadow until you give him what he wants or he'll back away if you say otherwise
Will make sure his hard on is visible if he's got one
I'm talking like at family events he'll pull you into his lap making sure it's sandwich in your cheeks
#~mads rambles#~mads~mail💌#resident evil x reader#leon kennedy x reader#leon kennedy#leon s kennedy x reader#leon scott kennedy#resident evil#resident evil fanfiction#leon kennedy x you#leon kennedy imagine
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I was sooo excited to see this finished, I couldn't wait to read it. Okay, okay...here we go~
The beginning of it is so pure and sweet, I love how you include so many characters and build the dynamics and world up for the story to begin. You always do such a good job with that, and I love seeing all the details.
I also like how you took this with Logan's view, how you described others and the reactions between them were so perfect for his character. Wade and Al were hilarious, the chatter they had in the beginning was entertaining and 100% something I can see happening.
Anyway continuing below cut because I love reviewing your stuff in more detail ~
The next couple of months go similarly. He runs into you frequently – in the elevator, and the communal laundry room of the apartment complex, and when you’re both checking your mail at the same time. You always greet him with a smile and ask the typical casual conversation questions – how he's liking his new job (he’s not, but he tells you it’s going fine), if Wade is staying out of trouble (no), and how Laura is doing (she’s doing great, actually), but it never progresses much past that.
The tension that builds is so well done. This one really got me into the story, I've never read one with this idea so I thought it was really interesting and fun to read. Sometimes tension is hard to build up, and with the background and characters in the beginning of the story to now and a bit later on, when the 'peak' comes, it feels so well deserves and satisfying. I'm jealous of how you do that 😭
Images of you straddling him with your bare, wet cunt rubbing against his happy trail, getting yourself off on his body as he plays with your pretty tits – He let’s out an audible growl and rips the shower curtain open before turning on the water – straight to his normal hot temperature, too. He knows a cold shower isn't going to do him any good right now. Standing beneath the hot stream, he thinks of what has transpired in the last five minutes and strokes himself in his hand until warm, white liquid follows the water down the drain. When he finishes, he stills hears your voice in his mind and gets hard again within minutes.
UGH. This part was insane. The build Logan begins to feel is so natural here, and as it goes on you can really sense how needy and hard it is for him to handle it. Someone like him being pent up is such a fun concept.
It’s a pretty small couch – really more like a loveseat – so it’s a snug fit for the two of you. The skin of your exposed kneecap brushes against the fabric of his jeans as you lean forward to grab yourself a slice of pizza.
These little tidbits of details feel so authentic and real, I adore each and every one. Just like the exposed midriff, the tiny details that add to what we already know, urging Logan's desires on and on.
During the second act of the movie, he wonders what you’re thinking - if you could possibly be feeling the same way as him – when you randomly sit forward, grab the box of the leftover pizza off of the table in front of you, and stand to take it to your refrigerator. It's then that he picks up on an odor – not the light floral aroma of your perfume but something new. A scent that answers the question of exactly what you had been thinking about. It’s musky and pheromonal, and even though it’s been a while since Logan has been intimate enough with a woman to smell the scent of her arousal, he recognizes it right away.
I'm always a sucker for ferals to use their senses and how writers include it in fics. Logan's sense of smell is insane so he would of course smell the reader's arousal. I love love that and how you described it was amazing.
“You know, if my sense of smell is as good as my sense of hearing, then I think I have a pretty good idea of what you’re thinking about right now,” Logan starts, his voice low and gruff. He watches from his peripheral vision as you freeze, your form going rigid. “But I’d really like to hear you say it.”
Yess, FINALLY. Be bold.
He knows you’re trying to play it cool, but there’s certain things that you just can’t hide from him – like the way your heart is beating a mile a minute and the way your nipples have pebbled beneath the thin material of your tank top.
Love this little detail a lot too <3
He pulls your hand off of him and then tugs you over his erection, trying his hardest to ignore the way the wetness between your legs glides against the tip of his cock, until you’re flat against the hard expanse of his lower stomach. “This is what you wanted, yeah?” He grunts. You whimper in response, tightening your thighs around his sides and rocking back and forth with the smallest amount of friction. “Don’t be holding back, wanna feel you make a mess on me.”
This entire bit was super hot too, the idea of this happening was sooo good. His demeanor and actions, the light teasing and slapping was just perfection. It was perfectly balanced, and I re-read this bit a few times.
“We can stop here,” he murmurs against your lips when he breaks the kiss, even though the thought kills him. He doesn’t want to stop kissing you, touching you, tasting you. It’s only been a few months, but it feels like he’s been waiting a lifetime for this and the last thing he wants is for it to come to an end. “Don’t have to go any further if you don’t—” “No,” you exclaim with a breathy laugh. “No, I don’t want to stop. Do you want to stop?” He grins up at you, taking his length in his hand and teasing it through your folds from below you. He coats the head in your juices before nudging it against your hole. “Definitely don’t wanna stop, sweetheart.”
This gets overlooked a lot but I personally really, really like this part. Enough self control to ask reader if they want to stop, if everything is fine, just giving that option to stop if they wanted to. That is such a good detail and shows the depth of care. It's really refreshing each time I see something like this added in a smut fic.
“Remind me to eavesdrop on your conversations more often,” he huffs a laugh, still slightly out of breath. You bring your lips to his, smiling as you give him a light kiss. “I’ll know if you do. I have a doorbell camera. You didn’t notice that?”
LMAO girl-😂😭
i got it bad
logan howlett x reader (worst!logan x reader)
word count: 4.9k
summary/prompt: logan can't help that he has super hearing and overhears you - wade's seemingly sweet, shy neighbor - telling vanessa what you fantasize about doing to him. believing that you won't ever act on it, he takes matters into his own hands.
or - getting yourself off on logan's abs
warnings/tags: smut, 18+ only mdni, reader is afab, no use of y/n, logan's pov, porn with a little plot, male masturbation, teasing, nipple/breast play, some tit slaps, multiple orgasms, unprotected p in v, cream pie
Ever since Logan first met you, he hasn’t been able to get you out of his fucking head.
Which is really unfortunate for him, considering you seem indifferent to his existence.
Wade says that you're just an introvert, and that it takes you a while to get comfortable around new people, but after living across the hallway from you for the last few months, Logan is sure that you have no interest in him outside of simple, polite conversation whenever the two of you run into each other.
He first notices you from across the room when you enter Wade and Althea's apartment – his apartment now, too, he supposes. The small space is crowded, but you're impossible for him to overlook. He instantly recognizes you from the polaroid picture that Wade had showed him in the Void.
You’re greeted by Vanessa, who kisses you on the cheek and shoves a drink in your hand before dragging you over to where Logan is listening to Wade and Althea bicker about – what were they bickering about again? All he can focus on is the way your dress hugs your curves and the lipstick imprint that you’ve left on the champagne flute in your hand.
He needs to get out more. Go to a bar, get a job, maybe even try out one of those dating apps that Vanessa has suggested to him – something to get him out of this fucking apartment that he's stayed holed up in since arriving in this universe, because he should not be this flustered by a complete stranger.
“Earth to Peanut,” Wade snaps his fingers in front of Logan’s face. He barely processed anything Vanessa had said while she introduced you. Blah blah, neighbor, something something, lives down the hallway. “Jesus, did you get into the white powder under the floorboard? Your pupils are as big as saucers right now.”
“Oh, go easy on him, Wade,” Althea scolds. “It’s natural for pupils to dilate when looking at a pretty girl.”
The expression on your face matches how Logan feels – surprised, embarrassed, slightly mortified.
“You don't even know what she looks like. She could look like me for all you know,” Wade snorts.
“She brings me homemade cookies and she always smells good,” Al retorts. “I don't need to be able to see her to know that she's pretty.”
“Nice to meet you,” Logan finally speaks up with a forced smile. Leave it to his two roommates to make a simple introduction as awkward as possible. “And no, I am not high on cocaine,” he adds with a pointed glare at Wade.
“It’s nice to meet you too, Logan,” you return the sentiment with a chortle and shy smile. “And don’t worry, I never pay attention to anything Wade says.”
Yukio and her girlfriend with the long ass name that Logan has yet to memorize then walk up and gain your attention, leaving Logan wishing he could redo the entire interaction.
He spends the rest of the night hoping for an opportunity to talk to you again, and feeling disappointed when that doesn’t happen.
The next couple of months go similarly. He runs into you frequently – in the elevator, and the communal laundry room of the apartment complex, and when you’re both checking your mail at the same time.
You always greet him with a smile and ask the typical casual conversation questions – how he's liking his new job (he’s not, but he tells you it’s going fine), if Wade is staying out of trouble (no), and how Laura is doing (she’s doing great, actually), but it never progresses much past that.
As soon as the conversation starts to venture into more personal territory, you seem to shut down. You’ll make some excuse about having somewhere to be, wish him a good day, and then you’re gone.
He can’t help himself. He sees how carefree and talkative you can be with Vanessa and hell, even Wade – and he wants that. At least then he may feel a little less crazy for spending so much of his free time racking his brain for ways to get closer to you.
Maybe it’s because it has been so long since he’s had a crush on anyone, but sometimes he thinks he might be losing his mind with how often he thinks of you – your smile, your eyes, your scent, your voice, and the way that having a five minute conversation with you always leaves him feeling for the rest of the day.
That’s why when he’s walking to his apartment one evening, and hears his name come from inside your apartment, he stops dead in his fucking tracks.
God, he knows he shouldn’t listen. He knows he should keep walking, go into his apartment and close the door.
But it’s not like he has his ear pressed up against your door. It’s not his fault that he has super hearing and that the apartment building has paper thin walls.
His brain is yelling at his feet to move but they stay planted firm right where they are.
“He thinks you don’t like him, you know,” Vanessa says. Logan doesn’t need to be able to see to know that there’s a smirk on her face.
He’s tempted to cause some kind of commotion in the hallway and then dash into his apartment, just to stop Vanessa from saying whatever the hell she’s about to say.
“Logan?” You sound appalled. “Of course I like him.”
“I know that you like him,” Vanessa chuckles. “But I can see why he would think otherwise. You act like you can barely stand to be in the same room as the guy for five minutes.”
“That’s not true.” Your voice shoots up several octaves higher than normal.
Logan sends a silent prayer to whoever the fuck is listening that no one walks down this hallway in the next few minutes and sees him standing still as a statue next to your apartment door.
“It’s not that I simply can’t stand to be in the same room as him,” you continue, lowering your voice back down to its normal volume. “It’s that being in the same room as him makes me want to jump his adamantium bones.”
For a second, he really believes that his two hundred year old heart might stop beating.
“I’m fucking pathetic around him,” you huff. “Last week, I saw him pull his t-shirt off in the laundry room to put a clean one on, and ever since then I haven’t been able to stop thinking about grinding my pussy against his abs. Something is seriously wrong with me, Nes.”
But Logan doesn’t hear Vanessa’s response, because he speed walks away while she’s still cackling. By some miracle, Wade isn’t home, so Logan darts past Althea and locks himself in the bathroom.
What the fuck, Jesus Christ, and holy shit all play on a loop in his mind while he tries to ignore the bulge that has quickly formed in his jeans.
The last words he expected to hear anyone say today were jump his adamantium bones and grinding my pussy against his abs – but the fact that he heard those words come from your mouth in your sweet voice has his cock throbbing so hard that he can't think of anything other than you doing exactly what you’ve been fantasizing about.
Images of you straddling him with your bare, wet cunt rubbing against his happy trail, getting yourself off on his body as he plays with your pretty tits –
He let’s out an audible growl and rips the shower curtain open before turning on the water – straight to his normal hot temperature, too. He knows a cold shower isn't going to do him any good right now.
Standing beneath the hot stream, he thinks of what has transpired in the last five minutes and strokes himself in his hand until warm, white liquid follows the water down the drain.
When he finishes, he stills hears your voice in his mind and gets hard again within minutes.
••••••
Logan hasn’t seen you in three days. Three days might not seem like a long time to go without seeing your neighbor, but it feels like a long fucking time for him. In fact, it’s the longest he’s gone without casually running into you since he first met you months ago.
There’s a reason for this, though – he hasn’t checked his mail in days, hasn’t taken any of his laundry down to the basement in days, and has generally tried to avoid leaving his apartment as much as he can out of fear that he’ll see you. He even went as far as to pretend to be napping when you came by with some fresh baked brownies for Althea yesterday.
He wants to see you, of course. Goddamn, does he want to see you. But after overhearing your conversation with Vanessa earlier this week, he doesn’t know if he’s strong enough to look you in the eye and pretend like he hasn't been making himself cum to the thought of you on top of him every time he takes a shower.
But after three days, he finds himself missing you too much to keep up his attempt at distancing himself from you.
What if he’s being ridiculous, staying cooped in this apartment to avoid you? What if you’re just down the hallway, thinking about him at the same time he’s thinking of you?
He's tidying up the kitchen when he sees the pink Tupperware container that you’d brought the brownies in yesterday sitting in the sink. The brownies were long gone – they’d all been eaten by him, Wade and Al within the same hour that you brought them over.
Taking the Tupperware back to you would be the nice, neighborly thing to do, right?
With Al already retired to her bedroom for the evening, and Wade out with Vanessa, he takes it upon himself to wash and dry the container.
It’s a Friday night, so he knows there’s a chance that you’ve got plans and might not even be home, but he still takes a few minutes to fix his hair and swipe some deodorant on before walking down the hallway towards your apartment.
As he approaches your door, he realizes that you are home. There’s light spilling from the crack at the bottom of the doorframe and he can hear low music playing inside. A mix of anxiety and anticipation sets in, but he clears his throat and knocks on your door before he can chicken out.
He hears your footsteps approaching and attempts to wipe any sign of nervousness from his face – he’s just returning your Tupperware, for Christ's sake.
“Logan,” you breathe as you open the door. “I haven’t seen you in a few days,” you greet him. He can’t help but relax at the smile that grows on your face when you realize it’s him. “What are you up to this evening?”
You lean against your doorframe, and Logan has to force himself to maintain eye contact. You’re wearing a matching pajama set – a cute pair of velvet shorts and tank top that shows more of your skin than he’s ever seen before.
“I – uh,” he stammers, holding out the Tupperware container to you. “I just thought I’d bring this back to you. They were great, by the way.”
Your smile spreads to your eyes at his compliment.
“Oh, thanks,” you beam. “I’m glad you got to have one. Wade told me that you were asleep when I came by yesterday so I figured he’d have them eaten by the time you woke up.”
“I’m sure he would have, but Al made him save one for me,” he laughs.
He tries to focus on the conversation at hand, but the fact that you look fresh out of the shower definitely isn’t fucking helping. Bare faced with the scent of your body wash and lotion on your skin, his thoughts begin to stray into dangerous territory fast.
“I don’t wanna interrupt your night, though. I’ll let you get back to—”
“You’re not,” you say quickly as he begins to step backwards. “You're not interrupting. Are you doing anything tonight? I just ordered a pizza and there’s plenty. I was gonna watch a movie, if you want…” You trail off, glancing back and forth between him and your apartment behind you.
He can't help but notice that your voice sounds hopeful.
The invitation excites him more than he cares to admit. Sure, the two of you have hung out plenty of times, but it's always been in a group setting – at one of Wade’s get togethers or movie nights, surrounded by other friends.
But never just the two of you – definitely never in your apartment.
He could never think of saying no to you. Especially not when this is what he's been hoping for since he first me you.
“Yeah. Yeah, I'd really like that.”
You hold the door open for him, letting him enter your apartment. Right away, he notices how different it is from the one that he lives in. Then again, there’s three people cramped into Althea’s – you're the only person who lives here, so you're able to make it entirely your own.
It’s cute, and cozy, he thinks. From your furniture adorned with throw pillows and blankets, to all of your shelves stocked with books, knick-knacks and candles, to the various plants occupying space throughout the living room, it feels endearing and welcoming right away.
“So, where’s Wade at tonight?” you ask as he ventures into the living room. He notes a large cardboard box with an untouched pizza in it on your coffee table. His stomach growls at the sight, and it hits him that he actually is fucking starving.
“He’s out with Vanessa. Fourth time this week,” he answers, turning to find you retrieving two plates from a cabinet in your kitchen. You're angled away from him, and when you raise your arms to grab the plates, your tank top lifts enough to give him a clear view of your midriff. He quickly averts his gaze, pretending to find something on your bookshelf particularly interesting.
“I’m just really glad that they’ve worked through things and seem to be happy now,” you sigh. “He wasn’t in a good place after their breakup. Barely ever left his apartment for the longest time.”
“They’ve got something special, that’s for sure,” Logan agrees.
You hand him a plate, walking past him to your couch. You toss some of the decorative throw pillows to your recliner, making room for him on the sofa. You pat the empty space beside you, an invitation for him to make himself at home.
“Who knows, maybe they'll even get their own place soon and I won’t have to share the living room with him anymore,” he says as he sits down beside you.
It’s a pretty small couch – really more like a loveseat – so it’s a snug fit for the two of you. The skin of your exposed kneecap brushes against the fabric of his jeans as you lean forward to grab yourself a slice of pizza.
“Sounds like you just want Blind Al and Mary Puppins all to yourself,” you tease. You hand him a piece of pizza and close the box before propping your feet up on the table. You lean back, looking at him with a smirk and raised brows.
“If he moves, that dog is going with him and you know it. There’s no way he’d leave her behind,” he shakes his head.
“There’s no way Althea would let him take her. She's grown to be as attached to her as Wade is. I think even you like her more than you care to admit.”
“What can I say? She has a way of weaseling herself into your heart,” Logan sighs.
“Oh, it’s definitely the tongue,” you shrug through a bite of pizza.
Logan grimaces as a vivid image of Mary Puppins French kissing Wade awake flashes through his mind, but he can't help but laugh.
You turn on some action-comedy that Logan has never heard of, and the two of you eat and take turns making comments about whatever is happening on the screen for the first half of the movie.
He tries to stay focused on the film, he really does, but every now and then you readjust your position on the couch, causing him to catch a whiff of your perfume or your thigh will brush against his and he'll have to force his attention back to the characters on the screen.
No matter how distracting he may find your mere presence beside him, he's enjoying himself. This is by far the longest the two of you have hung out together, without the additions of his roommates and other friends. He dreads the moment that the movie ends and he’s obligated to tell you goodnight before reluctantly going back to his own apartment.
During the second act of the movie, he wonders what you’re thinking - if you could possibly be feeling the same way as him – when you randomly sit forward, grab the box of the leftover pizza off of the table in front of you, and stand to take it to your refrigerator.
It's then that he picks up on an odor – not the light floral aroma of your perfume but something new. A scent that answers the question of exactly what you had been thinking about. It’s musky and pheromonal, and even though it’s been a while since Logan has been intimate enough with a woman to smell the scent of her arousal, he recognizes it right away.
When you sit back down beside him, the sweet smell washes over him again and he bites the inside of his lip so hard that he tastes blood. The wound disappears as quickly as it’s formed, but the same can’t be said for the erection that begins to strain against the confines of his boxers.
He eyes the pile of small, decorative pillows that you had tossed to the side and wishes that he could grab one to place over his lap.
The words that you’d said to Vanessa a few days ago begin replaying in his mind for the thousandth time since he’d first heard you say them, reminding him this isn’t one-sided. He may be sitting here attempting to conceal a raging hard-on by shifting his position and subtly adjusting his pants, but Logan’s heightened sense of smell tells him that your underwear are probably starting to feel as uncomfortable as his do at the moment.
Without turning his head, he risks a glance at you. Your eyes are on the movie, and your face is neutral, but your posture gives you away. Your arms are crossed over your chest, the tips of your fingernails digging tiny crescent shaped indentations into the flesh of your upper arm. You have one of your thighs crossed over the other, locked together tightly but that doesn’t stop him from being able to smell how fucking wet you are.
“You know, if my sense of smell is as good as my sense of hearing, then I think I have a pretty good idea of what you’re thinking about right now,” Logan starts, his voice low and gruff. He watches from his peripheral vision as you freeze, your form going rigid.
“But I’d really like to hear you say it.”
You turn to him, your eyebrows quirked but your face otherwise impassive.
“I’m not sure I know what you’re talking about. What exactly is it that you’d like to hear me say?” you ask innocently. You give him doe eyes that make his cock finish filling with blood.
He huffs a laugh, picking up on the way that your heartrate accelerates when you look at him.
“I'd like to hear you say what you said to Vanessa a few days ago,” he hums. “I can’t remember exactly, but I think it had something to do with you rubbing your sweet little cunt on my abs. Does that sound familiar to you?”
“Hm,” you feign contemplation. “That doesn’t really sound like something I'd say.”
He knows you’re trying to play it cool, but there’s certain things that you just can’t hide from him – like the way your heart is beating a mile a minute and the way your nipples have pebbled beneath the thin material of your tank top.
“You’re right. It doesn't sound like something you’d say,” he snorts, and leans in so that your face is just a few inches from his. “So imagine my surprise when I walked by your apartment to hear you talking about jumping my adamantium bones.”
He doesn't miss the way your breath catches in your throat or how your eyes flicker to his lips.
“You gonna do it? Or you just gonna keep thinking about it while you're sitting beside me?”
For a second, you say nothing and Logan struggles to read your expression. Then, without taking your eyes off of him, you slowly stand in front of the couch. You reach for the hem of your tank top and pull it over your head, leaving you naked from the waist up.
Logan's mouth goes dry. Suddenly, he's all out of smart remarks.
You hook your thumbs into the waistband of your pajama shorts, pushing them down your thighs along with your panties, and let them both drop to your feet all while holding his gaze.
With you now stark naked before him, he leans forward, grasping you by the backs of your thighs and pulling you onto his lap. You straddle him, gently pushing him back against the sofa.
He tugs his own shirt over his head while you undo his belt buckle and pop open the top button of his jeans, your hands fumbling when he sheds his shirt.
Logan doesn’t typically think too much about his physical appearance. He knows he’s in good shape, and thinks he’s conventionally attractive enough. But he could see himself getting a bit of an ego, if he had someone looking at him the way you are right now on a regular basis.
You help him shimmy his jeans and boxers down far enough for his cock to spring free. You take him in your hand, using your thumb to smear the thick bead of pre-cum across the head.
“You should be careful listening to people’s conversations outside of their doors,” you hum as you pump him in one hand. You hunch over, lowering your mouth enough to spit down his shaft, lubricating the length. You smirk, glancing up at him from beneath your thick eyelashes. “Other people might not react as happily as me.”
Fuck, he knows it’s been a long time since he's even felt anyone’s hands on him, but he feels a little pathetic at the way his balls are already tightening and feeling so heavy just from the way you’re languidly stroking him.
And as much as he’d love for you to keep your hands on him, there’s time for him later. Right now, what he wants more than anything is the feeling of your pussy on him.
He pulls your hand off of him and then tugs you over his erection, trying his hardest to ignore the way the wetness between your legs glides against the tip of his cock, until you’re flat against the hard expanse of his lower stomach.
“This is what you wanted, yeah?” He grunts. You whimper in response, tightening your thighs around his sides and rocking back and forth with the smallest amount of friction. “Don’t be holding back, wanna feel you make a mess on me.”
His words seem to erase any remaining reservation that you may have had. You brace your hands on his chest and begin dragging your center across his lower stomach, your slick coating the thick trail of hair that goes from his belly button to his waistline. With every backstroke, the head of his cock juts against your ass.
You glide across him easily. Soft, wet, and warm, Logan thinks that if you feel this good on his fucking stomach then there’s no way he’ll be able to handle being inside you.
He leans his head forward, capturing one of your nipples in his mouth. You hold his head in your hands, tugging on his hair with your fingers as he teases your nipple with his tongue and teeth.
He pulls his mouth away from your breast with a wet pop. “You like this? Using me to get yourself off?”
“Mm-hmm,” you nod frantically, your answer coming out as a moan. He gives a quick, firm slap to your other breast. Judging by the sound it draws from you, you like it, so he does it again.
He'd pictured this exact scenario a shameful number of times in the last few days, but his thoughts hadn’t done you justice. Every little noise you make, every little whimper and moan as your clit brushes against the thick bulges of his muscles again and again, sounds sweeter than he could've dreamed.
He places his hands on the meat of your hips, guiding you forwards and backwards across his abdomen at a fast pace.
“Fuck,” you gasp, clenching your thighs around him as tight as you can. “Fuck, I’m gonna cum—”
“That’s right,” he coos. “Come on, cum on me.”
You dig your fingernails into his shoulders, drenching the hair on his stomach as you ride out your orgasm on him with a cry of his name.
You collapse against his chest, going still with your face in the crook of his neck as you steady your breathing.
“Look at me,” he whispers after a moment. It hits him that despite the fact that you just humped him until you came all over his abdomen, he somehow hasn’t even kissed you yet.
You pull away from his neck, looking down at him with a dazed expression. He brings your face to his mouth by the back of your neck. He wastes no more time, instantly slipping his tongue past your lips.
He holds you by the globes of your ass, which hovers just above his erection. You grind down, causing the tip of his cock to nudge against your entrance. He groans into your mouth, his cock past the point of feeling like it’s going to explode if he doesn’t fucking feel you.
“We can stop here,” he murmurs against your lips when he breaks the kiss, even though the thought kills him. He doesn’t want to stop kissing you, touching you, tasting you. It’s only been a few months, but it feels like he’s been waiting a lifetime for this and the last thing he wants is for it to come to an end. “Don’t have to go any further if you don’t—”
“No,” you exclaim with a breathy laugh. “No, I don’t want to stop. Do you want to stop?”
He grins up at you, taking his length in his hand and teasing it through your folds from below you. He coats the head in your juices before nudging it against your hole.
“Definitely don’t wanna stop, sweetheart.”
You sink down onto him at the same moment that he tilts his hips up enough to slip inside you, causing the entirety of his length to fill you at once.
You both go still, adjusting to the new sensation of each other. Your walls, velvet soft and so warm, constrict around him like a vice. He knows you’re likely tired from riding him through your first orgasm, so he begins thrusting his hips slowly, the tip of his cock nudging against your cervix.
“You’re big. So, so big,” you moan – something between a whine and a praise.
“I know, but you’re doing so good, honey,” he encourages as he eases himself in and out of you. “Don’t worry, I got you.”
You latch your lips to his again, and it’s hard for him to hold back. The feeling of your tight, perfect cunt around him and the taste of your tongue in his mouth is overwhelming. He wants to memorize every movement, every sound you make.
You snake your hand between your bodies, your fingertips finding your swollen clit and massaging languid circles. He feels you flutter around him as you start meeting his thrusts with movements of your own, and he knows you’re close.
“Not gonna last much longer, honey,” he grunts with a sharp thrust. “Feel too fucking good.”
“Cum with me,” you murmur against his mouth.
Your command causes something in him to snap. He releases a throaty growl, pistoning his hips upwards at a harsh pace as he fills you up from below. You constrict around him, crying his name into his ear as you ride out your climaxes together.
You collapse against his chest once more, his cock still nestled inside you. He loses track of how long the two of you stay like that, neither of you wanting to be the first to move.
“Remind me to eavesdrop on your conversations more often,” he huffs a laugh, still slightly out of breath.
You bring your lips to his, smiling as you give him a light kiss.
“I’ll know if you do. I have a doorbell camera. You didn’t notice that?”
thank you so much for reading <3 comments and reblogs are super appreciated. here are a few more of my favorite logan pieces that i've written ✨️
for always and ever is always for you - old man logan x healer reader
diet pepsi - old man logan x reader limousine sex
lavender and velvet - worst variant logan x neighbor reader
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I just wanted to say, I've been thinking all about your piece about the stages of unmasking and autism acceptance. (Your writing has been so helpful for me and my partner as we've been figuring out how they can unmask and live fully and authentically!!)
But I kept coming back to the bit about grief, and loss about the confusion after figuring out youre autistic. For my partner, I was SO HAPPY when they got their diagnosis and it was a huge step forward for us, but also it was scary because I was like wait... Did I fall in love with your mask? Who are you actually??
And the answer is, yes, I fell in love with the mask. I fell in love with the performance of themselves that they showed the world that then turned out to be too exhausting for them to maintain in a close relationship. But the cool thing was, the actual person who stood up for themselves and set limits and was getting to know themselves truly and actually? That person is fucking awesome and I adore them.
Anyways. Thanks for everything you do. Thank you for showing me and so many others how to live joyfully and authentically and in true relationship.
oh my god that's so sweet, thanks for sharing anon.
I think many of us believe ourselves to be masking far more comprehensively & effectively than we actually are. It's part of why we still feel so completely alienated from people ; others can sense that we are keeping the world at a distance, and it prevents them from bonding as fully to us. And the flip side of that is also often true -- we may fear that if we stop masking our loved ones will abandon us, because they will hate the person we really deep down. But throughout our time with them, there have been key "tells" of who we really are, little leakages of the sides of us that we fear showing so desperately, but which our loved ones caught wind of, and actually found to be some of the most lovable parts of us all along.
The people who only love our masks are, typically, the people who would like us to remain featureless and compliant. But the people who really love us already love what is behind the mask -- and they might see that version of us better than we do ourselves.
I'm glad things worked out well for you and your partner.
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"Inked forever..."
⋆°• ☁︎ - Tattoo artist!Kaiser Feat. Michael Kaiser AN: I just love the idea of Tattoo artist Kaiser... so accept this as my brain rot (Also very heavily basing this off when I got my tattoo, and my tattoo, I'm sorry!!!) (Why did I actually kinda cook with this...)
The sound of machines whirring and the constant looking into the other area of the people getting tattooed made you question so much. Would it hurt? Well duh. Should you really be doing this? What would people think of you if you did? The thoughts started vanishing when you were finally called up to the front desk as they showed you the paper with the design on it. Normally the artist would do it, but since he was busy preparing and finishing up something else he wasn’t able to. But when you finally saw it, the drawing was stunning. It had taken inspiration from the piece of art you had found when scrolling the internet and made it that much better. The way the vines wrapped around, and the way the roses were a little bigger but still had an elegant look to them. It was even better than the picture. It was perfect. With a happy nod they took the paper back to the artist and told you he’d be done soon.
It was about 10 more minutes when the person he was just working on had paid and left, and all there was left was a few more minutes until you had actually seen the artist and he was able to permanently draw on you. Now that you were thinking about it, it kinda sounded weird. Letting a total stranger draw on you, and you have to keep that drawing forever? I mean you didn’t even know him, how was that supposed to work? Which brought you back to thinking about how you had even stumbled upon him.
The many pictures of tattoos had faded into your feeds, weather it was adds, or just scrolling on pintrest, instagram, and hell even tiktok! There was no escaping tattoo ideas. Well that was until you found this one page on instagram. Countless pictures had flooded your view all of them even more impressive then the last, weather it was flowers, humans, characters, even just little designs, they were flawless. Maybe it was just feeding into the idea more and more when you kept seeing more of his work pop up day after day. After the 2nd week of the art popping up you decided that maybe this was the universe telling you it was a good idea and you should just suck it up, and get that tattoo you’ve always been wanting. So you reached out to the artist via the email in the instagram bio, and within a few weeks there you were sitting in the tattoo parlor waiting for this man to call you back.
That was one of the only things however you didn’t see. Sitting in the waiting area of the tattoo place made you think about a lot of strange things. Maybe it was the nerve, maybe it was just because you were waiting for the pain to hit. But one thing you did know for sure, was you had never actually seen him before. All his posts online were about his tattoo works, weather it was on people, a screen, or on paper. He had never once actually posted what he looked like. You could only assume it was a guy due to his name, or at least the name on the email. Michael Kaiser. Pretty cool name if you did say so. But still, you were walking into this blind with a random dude you had never seen before. Luckily if you needed to run, there were other employee’s around…
After you had worried yourself down a rabbit hole a voice called out to you.
“(Name). Right? Kaiser.”
When you turned over your shoulder, being snapped out of your spiral there he was. The Michael Kaiser, that you now knew was a guy, standing there, holding the tattoo stencil in his hand.
“Oh uh yeah! Sorry.”
“No worries. Nervous?”
He started walking back and gave a little nod of his head signaling you to follow
“A little..”
The guy brought you back to one of the chairs, setting down the stencil on the desk next to him, a small grey table with a tattoo gun with grey wrapping around it, ink colors in little containers, and two cups, one with water and rubbing alcohol. Now that you were back there, everybody else getting something done seemed pretty chill, even if there was only 2 other people besides the artists. Nobody screaming, crying, or freaking out. I mean if nobody else was, why would you?
You got up in the chair as he sat down on the stool, looking down at the stencil, before giving a little smile. He turned around and placed it down on your ankle.
“That look good in terms of placement?”
He pointed back at a mirror and you went to check it out, seeing it was it a perfect spot you nodded on the way back, sitting back up in the chair as he started getting everything else ready. You looked away for a few minutes, seeing whatever was on the TV’s that you could perhaps look at when he was doing it so you wouldn’t feel weird staring directly at him as he worked.
“If you need a break, lemme know”
He gave a slight smirk when you turned back towards him
“Rough place for your first one.”
And then he started. At first it wasn’t to bad, a pinch here and there, but nothing you couldn’t handle, well that was until about an hour later he got to the back part of your ankle. You were grateful that you could burry you’re face into the chair at this point, because lord have mercy, did it hurt. He wasn’t kidding when he said it was a rough spot. Luckily during that you did get to have a break, heading over to pay before he finished it back up. Which was when you learned an interesting story. Apparently, due to the behind the counter people, he was actually supposed to take leave that day, and he had moved all his other appointments until you had emailed him asking about the blue rose tattoo, and that was when he had called back in saying he wasn’t actually taking leave anymore, and that they could move back appointments besides the one from when you were coming in. That’s when you remembered, on his neck, he also had a blue rose tattoo, and you finally thought about how it was weird that he had made a story post a little bit after you emailed him saying that he was gonna be out, and then suddenly he was totally open for that same day.
When you finally got back mostly everybody else had clearned out and it was just you and him, plus the people still at the front. Even if the pain was almost unbearable at this point you tried your best to keep it together and not cry, or let out any sort of noise. You knew that he was probably gonna be done soon and you just had to hold on until then, easy, right? You’ve been doing it this long.
And right you were. It was only about 20 more minutes until he finished, wiping down the rest of the color that was smeared across your ankle, before wrapping it up in a sheet of cling-wrap and some tape.
“Take it off in the morning, wash it off, and you should be good to go. Make sure to moisturize it for a few weeks until the peeling goes away and that’s it.”
He handed you a piece of paper with the same instructions, and just as you were about to leave you spoke back up.
“Hey um.. I saw on your instagram you were supposed to be off today…”
He looked back over from his station where he was cleaning up and wiping stuff down.
“Yeah. Was supposed to get out of town for a trip with some of my friends, no big deal.”
“Then why didn’t you..?”
“Because I wanted to do that tattoo of yours. Didn’t wanna let somebody else have it. Not often you see people coming in here asking for a blue rose tattoo.”
He shrugged, throwing some of papers away, before sitting back down on the stool.
“Plus, not every day a pretty girl slips into your email asking for a tattoo, and who am I to stay no?”
He gave a small laugh and a smirk took over his face.
“Hey, how about instead of your email I get your number, and maybe next time we talk it will be scheduling a time for a date and not a tattoo. I mean I’m pretty sure it’s fate we met, we already have matching tattoos~.”
A smile over took your face as you exchanged numbers with him, and in turn he walked you out. Right as you were about to get back in your car and head home, he walked over and kissed your cheek.
“You did well for your first tattoo, maybe you’re next one you’ll have my initials~”
#blue lock x reader#blue lock#bllk#bllk x reader#michael kaiser#michael kaiser x reader#kaiser x reader#bllk kaiser#xo-adelinewrites
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When you said X, it immediately sounded like Y to me. Is that what you meant?
So what I got from that, is you're saying X. Is that right?
I had a strong emotional reaction to X, because of Y. Did I interpret that correctly/ could you clarify?
I felt uncertain and just wanted to clarify. Were you aware that X is strongly linked/has the connotation, references Y because of Z? (At least from my understanding.) (add sources?) As that makes what you're saying possibly sound like N. Feel free to correct me if I'm wrong or overlooked something. I'm always happy to learn.
Took me a moment to work out what this was lol. But yes! These are all good ways to ask nicely for clarification and avoid reading comprehension fails.
A Bad variant on these to avoid, mind - which I have been on the receiving end of a few times - is to ask, but use the question to lecture about the topic anyway, as though the poster in question said Y regardless. A bad faith clarification, if you will. It looks something like:
"When you said X, did you mean Y? I hope not, because Y is actually problematic because blah blah blah, that would be really shitty."
Do Not Do This. This is a smug, shitty and unfair way to speak to someone (and it certainly gets you ignored or blocked if you do it to me lol.) Ask nicely, like anon's examples, and keep the lectures and judgements to yourself until you determine if they're actually needed.
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@lamentationsofalonelypotato
LOLL girl I totally get it, but I don't think you have to be scared on this one. It's a nice little slow burn fic with cozy winter vibes. 😘 And like you, I LOVE soulmate/true mate/fates mate AUs too. It's definitely a mix of forced proximity and grumpy/sunshine, which you know I can't stop writing that dynamic for some reason. 😂😂
But here we go!! Diving into the rest of your lovely comments...
The physical description of Dean is SO good. The use of "stern" and "stubborn" as descriptors fits well for Dean.
Hahaaa thank you, lovely!! Stern brows and a stubborn chin felt inherently Dean to me.
Oh suuuurrrreeee keep telling yourself that Dean.
Lmfao right? Denial of the purest form. 🙄
So what you're saying is... she's trapped in a cabin, she's got a broken ankle, in the middle of a snowstorm with no way out and no communications, with a ruggedly hot mountain man with gorgeous green eyes, a gruff exterior, and a mysterious past... Sign👏🏻 Me👏🏻 Up
That is EXACTLY what I'm saying. 😏
(Also that How to Train Your Dragon gif made me smile -- I love that movie!!)
So ready for Dean to just obliterate all her other experiences with total jerks.
Oh he already is! You def know where I'm going with this. 😏
I live for the after a nightmare comfort trope (if it is a trope? 🧐) and I am SO happy you put this in. Oh my goodness it was so sweet of him to come check on her, and for you to give us a little bit of insight inside of Dean's POV during those moments where she was terrified. This part stuck out to me, because the man is already hook, line, and sinker. He literally tried to go to a cabin in the middle of the woods to get away from it all, but fate really has an odd way of catching up to you. Can't exactly run from it Dean.
Aww me too!! I love hurt/comfort moments almost as much as pure fluff moments. Dean really is fighting for his life emotionally in this loll. His instincts as an alpha (and her mate) are warring with his brain, and it was really fun to write that aspect of Dean's angst post-season 15.
OOooooooOOOooooo shots fired. SHOTS FIRED... But did she stutter??
She, in fact, did NOT stutter.
I'm losing it over the fact that Sam named his son DEAN Jr. 😂🥰 And also the bit about "running full speed into glass doors" is making me cackle lol.
Ahaha idk if that was actually canon or if that's something we in the fandom started writing and I just rolled with it. 😂 I'm pretty sure it's canon that Sam named his son after his uncle? But oh yeah, the running full speed into glass doors was taken straight out of my childhood. 🤣🤣
This line is so Dean, it's PERFECT, and I really love that it was what made the reader try to snort her diet Pepsi.
LOL thank you!! I think I grabbed part of it from season 12 where they go to Hollywood/L.A., but I thought it was quintessential Dean. 🤣
And I just want to say thank you for giving Dean the kinda "homemaker" role in this fic. The fact that he's making food for the reader (I'm obsessed with men who can cook) and taking care of her is just:
Omg yeesss, I love malewife Dean lmao. He's just such a caretaker at heart, and an awesome cook! I can so picture him making big breakfasts for his kids on weekends and packing their lunches for school. 🥹
Oh no Dean, you're not like the Cabin in that way. The cabin is made of strong aged wood that keeps out the chill and is full of warmth! The cabin withstands the elements and doesn't fall no matter how hard the howling wind blows! Dang it, I have way too many emotions over that line. Alex, why did you have to do this to me 😭 It's SO GOOD!!
Dean's self-deprecating angst is like a necessary evil for his character. I'm so glad the cabin metaphor resonated with you the way I intended, even if it breaks my heart too!! 😭😭💙💙
And I'm not sure if you were trying to say that the reader was also a little skeptical about the true mates and if it is a real thing that happens, but I can't wait for part 2 to see if they actually admit it to each other or if they try to keep it a secret as long as they can! Also the song choice perfectly fits the vibes in this fic 👌🏻
Oh yeah, there's some of that too! She's more open to it now than Dean, but I thought we needed some realism where she's also skeptical true mates are even real -- until she met Dean. How strongly they both are reacting to each other physically, but not wanting to admit it yet, and the reader just wanting to know more about Dean before she begins to trust him, all of that is going to continue playing out in Part 2. 💓💓
Oh thank you on the song choice!! Of course Bob Seger has featured on the show in a big way with "Night Moves," so I thought "Against the Wind" felt very Dean, especially in a post-S15 AU.
My lovely friend, this was so good and I can't wait for part 2!!!
Thank you sooooo very much, my friend!! 🥹🥹 Part 2 is dropping later today!! 🥳💕💕
Against the Wind - Part 1
Pairing: Alpha!Dean Winchester x F. Omega!Reader
Summary: You wake up in a strange alpha’s cabin in the middle of a snowstorm, all with a busted ankle. He holds shadows in his eyes, even though his hands are gentle. There are iron shutters around his heart, even though he saved you. You might just save him in return.
AN: This is a canon ending-divergent AU, but still an Omegaverse story within the canon world. It also fulfills a bingo square for @jacklesversebingo!
Jacklesverse Bingo24 Prompt: True Mates
Song Inspo: “Against the Wind” by Bob Seger
Word Count: 5.5K
Tags/Warnings: A/B/O dynamics, scenting, injuries, hints of angst, fluff and feels.
Series Masterlist || Bingo Masterlist
Part 1: In His Hands
Your body is mostly numb when he pulls you out of the snow.
You utter a sharp cry when something in your side twinges, waking up your entire body like a white-hot shiv. Your ankle begins to throb as well.
“Hold on. I’ve got you.”
You only half hear the voice, a deep, coarse rumble. His form is broad and dark and blurry, but his male scent is the only thing you register with perfect clarity.
Alpha.
A small treble of alarm runs through you. It’s an instinct you’ve had to learn, as an omega traveling alone in rural Montana. However, something else disrupts that anxiety.
It’s his scent. His scent is like the crackle and smoke of a warm hearth.
Safe. Your body is heavy and stiff and doesn’t respond to your commands, and yet, you feel a measure of calm when he maneuvers you into his arms. It’s a baser instinct, rooted deep in your chest. He begins to carry you down the slope of the mountain, and your vision blurs white…
Like the flurry of snow falling heavy on his jacket.
You wake up freezing and shivering in pain. A sensation of small sharp needles begins to travel all across your skin. Slowly, as you're able to blink, your view of the dark wood cabin clears and focuses. You realize that you’re bundled in blankets, and laying on a chaise in front of a large fireplace. Still, you’re too cold. A keening whimper escapes you as you try to burrow in.
Alpha. Your body instinctively recognizes his presence, as he’s suddenly there, hovering close above you with a divot between his brows and a frown marring his face, where thick stubble threatens to become a beard. Stern, dark brows are furrowed over his concerned eyes. His plush frown is framed by a stubborn-looking chin. Your gaze wearily travels over his handsome features, his short brown hair, the flickers of firelight that splash across the side of his face.
He places a warm, calloused hand on your forehead, and he mutters a curse. Your body trembles further with cold. You part your lips, but you can't yet force your voice to escape them.
Again, he quite literally takes the problem into his own hands. He peels away the thick blankets just to slide himself in behind you. His arms wrap around your waist, and you feel their tempered strength when they cage you in against him. You manage to turn your head and rest your cheek against his chest, covered by red plaid. Thank you...
Almost on reflex, you breathe in his scent deeply. The earthiness of it calms you, warms you from the inside. Your shivering eventually calms and turns to purring in your chest.
“What’s your name, Omega?” he asks. His voice is deep and gruff, and it threatens to make you shiver for a different reason as the timbre of it washes over you.
It’s difficult, but you manage to speak, clearing past your parched throat to give him your name. He nods, as if rolling the sound of it back and forth across his mind.
“Was somebody out there with you?” he asks.
You shake your head, even though the thought elicits a painful twinge in your heart.
“Who…” you try to speak again, even though it hurts a little. “Who are you?”
You feel him take a deep breath. He hesitates, like he’s reluctant to give it to you.
“Dean,” he says.
You roll the name around in your head, over and over. Dean, Dean, Dean…
You smile slightly. “Yeah, makes sense.”
“What?” he says. You hear the raised brow in his tone.
“You sound like a Dean,” you say, perhaps a little delirious.
Anyway, that’s when your eyes close on you again. You fall back into the warm lull of sleep, to the sound of a crackling fire, and a feeling that permeates throughout your body.
Safe.
Can’t fucking believe this, Dean thinks, as he holds you. Just when he thought his life was done throwing him curveballs.
He tips his head back against the sofa cushion with a tired exhale. It would just be his luck to find a stray omega wandering his stretch of Big Sky. Montana can be gnarly in the winter, but for the past couple of years, Dean has learned to survive here in this rental cabin for a couple of months at a time, when wandering an empty bunker gets to be too much. At least here the quiet’s peaceful, if still a little unnerving sometimes.
He glances down at you. Now that you’re warm and sleeping again, he should find something to wrap your ankle and ice it down. It’s swollen, and he wants to take an inventory of your other injuries, so he can determine how to get you back down the mountain and through the woods, back to civilization.
The sooner he gets you medical attention and back to your life, the sooner he can get back to his—even though the thought of leaving you in anyone else’s hands almost stirs a growl in his throat.
And that last part unnerves him, makes him anxious. He begins to untangle himself from you, but his movements falter when your sweet scent filters through his nose again. Cinnamon apples, with a hint of something floral.
Fuck me.
It’s almost too sweet to be true, but Dean does his best to ignore it…and what that alluring sweetness probably means.
Dean leaves you in the morning to revisit the site where you fell. He digs through the snow and manages to find your backpack, filled with your clothes, supplies, and your phone and wallet. He returns just in time.
The falling snow becomes even more intense, until it becomes a quiet roar outside. You watch the snowstorm through the impact windows in the kitchen, and you know what this means. You’re snowed in with a stranger—an alpha, no less.
You also have a bum ankle, which he wrapped for you. Doesn’t feel broken, he’d said, but it could be fractured, or at the very least sprained. You also likely have a couple of cracked ribs.
“What were you doing out there, anyway?” he asks, while pouring himself a glass of whiskey. “This ain’t exactly hiking season.”
While you drink some hot chocolate he made you with a bit of whiskey splashed in (for extra warmth), you explain.
“Well, I guess it wasn’t my best idea in hindsight,” you say with a weak chuckle. “I was trying to find my way back, and I…well, I was a bit lost.”
He raises his brows wryly, still sipping.
“And to make a great situation even better, I thought I heard a wolf howl nearby,” you say. “I know most of them would rather run from us than attack us, but you can’t be sure, you know? I had my rifle on me, so I was turning around, trying to pinpoint what direction it was in…and of course, my foot slipped on something.”
You fell down that hill. You think you even hit a tree on the way down, which would explain your ribs. Everything gets a bit swirly, cold, and dark in your memory after that.
Dean shakes his head. “Gotta say, going out there alone wasn’t a great idea either, especially now. This time of year, there’s no telling when a blizzard like this is going to come through.”
He waves haphazardly toward the storm raging outside. Your gaze falls to the mug in your hands. You don’t really want to talk about your reasons for taking that risk, but maybe giving him a little honesty will get him off your back.
“My dad and I used to hike up here every year,” you confess. “A few months ago…I lost him. So I guess this was just something I needed to do.”
You blow on your hot chocolate before you take another sip. This time when you glance up, Dean’s judgy expression has evened out into something more sympathetic. He lowers his glass.
“Well, hate to break it to you, but there’s no cell service up here,” he says.
You give a humorless huff. “Believe me, I know.”
“Which means no one can come up here and get you,” he continues, “and even when this storm breaks, I can’t carry you all the way down the mountain back to civilization. Not with the snow as deep as it’s gonna get. Now…maybe I can go down by myself and bring help back with me.”
“But another storm could snow me in,” you realize, with growing apprehension at the thought.
Dean nods. “It’s either I take that chance, leave you by yourself. Or we wait for you to heal up.”
He leaves the choice up to you with a gesture of his hand, the one still wrapped around his glass. You weigh those options with a tilt of your head. On one hand, you don't want to impose on him longer than you had to, but on the other, you really don't want to be left alone in this cabin for God knows how long while he scales the mountain by himself, for your sake.
“I think it would be better if we go down together, right? It can be dangerous, even when the storm breaks,” you reply.
Dean nods slowly, like that was what he was going to suggest too. “All right. Well, until you’ve got two working legs, you’re stuck here with me.”
“I figured as much,” you say. Your head tilts as you consider him. He has a gruff exterior, but all his actions so far have been kind, and far more than you’d expect from a stranger. And an alpha at that.
Not to say that all alpha's are assholes, but you've had far too many experiences with the stereotype: arrogant, entitled, and handsy. Can't forget handsy.
“Thank you for saving me,” you say, meeting his gaze, “and for…well, being a decent guy.”
Dean’s lips twitch. He nearly chuckles. Instead, he sits back on his side of the couch.
“Yeah, well, there’s a spare room in this place for you, one bathroom. The kitchen is stocked. I’m a half-decent cook, if I say so myself, but help yourself.”
He gets up from the couch without preamble, to go to his room, you assume. It leaves you feeling at a loss, like he’s trying to get away from you. You know you’re a guest in his space, so you try to respect the way he wants to be alone for a while. He definitely gives off loner vibes.
You look around and find a collection of vinyl records, and smaller collection of books on a shelf next to the fireplace. You find Gulliver’s Travels, Dune, The Odyssey, The Wizard of Oz—books you didn’t think a guy like Dean would be into.
You take up The Wizard of Oz, reclaim your spot on the chaise, and start reading.
That night, your dreams are plagued by the crunch of dead leaves, your father shouting at you to run, and to keep running.
The coarse roar of a bear morphs into something other. It’s a sharper, whirring sound like wind howling amidst animalistic clicking, and then bones breaking—your father’s scream cut short.
You wake with a start, your body both cold and flush at the same time.
Dean is there once again. It confuses you at first, but then it all returns to you in a rush—the where and the why you’re here, once again with the alpha standing over you in concern. He grasps your shoulder and asks if you’re all right. Your breathing is too erratic for you to answer him, your eyes too wide, your body trembling.
Had you been making noise in your sleep? You blush in embarrassment at the thought. You also feel bad for waking him, and all those things get trapped in your throat.
Seeing that you’re most definitely not fine, he sits on the edge of the bed, squeezes your arm, and reminds you.
“It’s okay. You’re safe here,” he tells you. His tone is deep and even, reassuring.
You meet his steady gaze and manage to nod, trying to catch your breath.
“I’m okay,” you say, with a shaky nod. He gives you a measuring look, both a question and a confirmation. You give it to him with a firmer nod. “Thanks, I…I’m sorry I woke you up.”
He exhales through his nose, accepting. “‘S all right. Don’t worry about it.”
You feel the loss of his touch when his hand eventually slip away from your shoulder. As soon as he came into your room, he’s gone.
Dean leaves swiftly, trying to brush off how the scent of your fear had tugged sharply at his gut even in his sleep. It not only woke him up, but compelled him to kick his blankets off and get out of bed to go to you.
You were having a nightmare, reliving your fall, if he had to guess. You came out of it pretty quick when he carefully grabbed your shoulder. Every instinct in his body told him to gather you into his arms and cover you with his own scent and protective embrace to calm you down.
Through sheer willpower, he managed to ignore every single one of those instincts.
Two days pass, in which you and Dean say very little to one another, besides when he asks you what you want to eat, and how you’re feeling. The alpha seems genuine, but guarded any time you ask him about him; anything that’ll give you a clue into who this guy is, and why he’s here.
You try again to strike up some kind of conversation over dinner one night.
“Do you live here year-round?” you ask, around a mouthful of burger that’s absolutely delicious. He wasn’t lying when he claimed to be a good cook. He even made the fries himself.
“No,” he replies. “No Netflix, no internet? Think I’d die of boredom. I just come up here to uh…take a beat, I guess.”
You smile. “I don’t blame you. Sometimes you just need a break,” you say, even though your tone is heavier than you meant it to be. Your gaze, a bit distant in that moment, sharpens and focuses back on Dean. “Where are you from, then?”
“Kansas,” he offers.
“Oh really?” You brighten with that scrap of information. “My older sister lives in Topeka. She moved there for a job, initially, but then she met her guy. He’s some kind of day trader. Which is just code for sits on his ass playing Call of Duty while she busts hers.”
Dean huffs, then crams more burger into his mouth. He hasn’t been giving you a lot to go on while you two have been talking. Unfortunately, you have the tendency to ramble and fill the silence before it becomes even more stifled.
“She works at a bank. Smart, driven, always knows what she wants. Meanwhile, I’ve had about seven jobs in the last three years, none of which were even remotely related to my almost useless degree in Communications.”
“Yeah, doubt you need a degree in communicating,” Dean remarks, popping another fry into his mouth.
You purse your lips at him, but the glint of teasing in his eyes makes you fight not to smile.
“All right, smart guy. So, what about you?” you ask.
Predictably, the man’s walls firm back up. “What about me?”
“Well…why’re you up here alone? Do you have family?” you ask.
Dean quirks a half smile. “I’ve got a brother.”
“Okay. Younger, I’m guessing?”
He tilts his head at you, a bit amused at your guess. “Why’s that?”
“I don’t know,” you shrug. “I can’t imagine you with a brother who’s older than you.”
His lips twitch. “You callin’ me old, sweetheart?”
You begin to blush with embarrassment. But also, sweetheart?
You shake your head. “No, that’s not what I meant. I just mean like…”
Dean saves you with the return of his smile.
“Yeah, he’s younger,” he says. “But he’s the one with the quasi-wife and the apple pie life.”
“Quasi-wife?”
“They’re mated. Just haven’t gotten around to the whole getting hitched thing,” he explains. “But they’re happy. Dean Jr.’s growing up fast, already running full speed into glass doors.”
His smile is genuine when he talks about his brother, just tinged with a bit of melancholy, you think.
“Dean Jr.?” you ask in amusement. Dean Sr. laughs a little, and you enjoy the sound, the way it lightens up his face and pulls at the corners of his eyes.
“Yeah, can’t say I wasn’t surprised myself to get that honor, but…hey, it works for the kid. He’s got my chin,” he remarks.
He digs into his pocket to show you a picture from his cell phone. Even though it doesn’t have service, you can still view the many pictures of the adorable infant in his camera roll, courtesy of Sam and his mate, Eileen. You coo at the chubby cheeks, the bright little eyes, and the swirled tuft of dark hair on his head.
“Where do they live?” you ask.
“Out west, a stone’s throw from the City of Angels.” Dean’s smile dims. “He just had to go back to California.”
“What’s wrong with California?” you ask.
“It’s full of pretentious douchebags, that’s what,” he says, his voice a dry whip. “Waxed up to the fucking eyeballs, smelling like Botox, Adderall, and sweaty desperation.”
You splutter laughing so bad that your diet coke escapes you in a spit take. It partially goes up into your nose, burning, stinging your eyes, but it’s made worse by the way Dean waves a hand up incredulously. You’ve just gotten half his sleeve wet.
He meets your gaze, and you can’t help but laugh even harder.
“Wow,” he says.
“God, I’m sorry,” you say, still giggling. You get up, hobble over to the kitchen counter, and rip off a paper towel to try and pat his arm dry. He takes it from you and helps you back into your seat.
“I got it, Spit Take. Just finish your food,” he says, if with a dancing gleam in his eyes.
From then on, it becomes easier for you to pull the alpha into conversation. Besides reading, napping, and staring out the window while it snows, you don’t have much by way of entertainment. Not to mention the pain of trying to get around without crutches, as it also jostles your ribs. Dean often has to help you from one room to another, which of course, you get embarrassed by.
“I’m sorry!” you yelp, when he saves you from another crash landing in the hallway. You’re fresh out of a shower, and it had taken you twenty minutes just to figure out how to wash your hair on one leg, let alone dry yourself off and get your shirt and borrowed sweatpants on. The main problem in getting back to your room happened to be the pants themselves. Their length and bagginess made you slip.
At least Dean’s learned to ignore your apologies. He now holds you by the waist, having pulled you against his chest on reflex. With furrowed brows, he notices your pained hiss when you grab onto his arms for balance.
“You okay?” he asks with a note of alarm.
“Ribs,” you gasp. They’re throbbing sharply with his hold, especially after being rattled by the near fall.
He immediately adjusts his hold lower, holding your arm and hip to support you. His hands are strong, but gentle. The warmth and pressure of his touch rattles you more than almost falling into a heap. Cliché as it might be, your heart is beating faster, what seems like in and out of rhythm. A feeling you can’t name stirs and tugs at your lower belly when you hazard looking up into his eyes. They’re a nice shade of green, like a forest floor in the spring.
“You just go ass over tea kettle at any moment, huh?” he quips, his lips tugging upward. “Come on. Where were you headed?”
“To my room, wise guy,” you say wryly, even as your blush heats your face and neck. “But this is a great taxi service.”
He snorts. “Yeah, call it the Winchestermobile.”
“Winchester. That your last name? Like the rifle?” you ask, while he helps you carefully down the hall. He nods in confirmation.
“That’s interesting. You don’t meet many Winchesters,” you remark.
“Yeah, well, ain’t that many left,” he mutters.
“What?”
“Nothing,” he shakes his head, easing you down onto the edge of the bed. His hands go to his hips as he scrutinizes your form for further injury. “You good? I was about to get cracking on some lunch.”
You offer him a grateful smile. “Yeah, I’m good. What’s on the menu?”
“Nothing fancy. I’m thinking grilled cheese. Maybe some tomato soup, assuming I can find a can in the pantry,” he says.
“Honestly, that sounds awesome,” you say. “Haven’t had a grilled since…God, probably since I was a kid.”
At that, Dean smiles. “Well, I happen to make an awesome one. No less than three kinds of cheese.”
“If they’re as good as your burgers, then I don’t doubt it,” you reply. He seems pleased at that, and maybe a little bashful as his gaze falls away.
Cute, you think. Your smile grows.
“All right, well, stay tuned,” he says. He winks, tossing you a “gun for hand” gesture that makes you laugh. Dean wears a rugged exterior as easily as his winter jacket, but he’s also kind of a dork.
After lunch (delicious, as you predicted), you take the afternoon just to sort through Dean’s records and alphabetize them for him. You hunker down on the floor in front of the shelf, close to the record player.
“I don’t need all that. I know where all my stuff is…more or less,” he says, with a lazy wave of the beer he has in hand.
“Oh really?” you raise a brow. “Okay, let’s test that theory. Where’s Boston.”
“Right next to the White Album, there on the left.”
Sure enough, you find Boston, as well as the White Album by the Beatles.
“Oh my God, you actually have the White Album?” You open up the double-sided case in excitement to read the list of songs printed on the inside. “This thing is so expensive.”
“Beatles fan, huh?” Dean says as he takes a seat on the couch. You turn your smile on him, and he stills in his seat.
“Uh, yeah. Who isn’t?” you say.
Dean shrugs with a smile of his own. “Put it on if you want.”
You bounce a little with excitement before you figure out how to turn on his record player. You put the vinyl album on Side B, moving the needle until you find “Blackbird.”
“Of course,” Dean says, slightly teasing. You turn to him with crunched brows.
“What? ‘Blackbird’s’ a classic.”
“Eh. Everyone likes ‘Blackbird.’”
“That’s what a classic means,” you argue.
“More like a mainstream copout,” he says. You think it’s just to needle you, but you still purse your lips.
“Fine, Mr. Music Snob. Then what’s your favorite?”
“On the White Album?”
“Any Beatles song.”
“‘Hey, Jude,’” he says, after a moment. There’s some kind of weight in his eyes, a note of melancholy. You don’t miss it, even though you don’t know why it’s there.
“Everyone likes ‘Hey, Jude,’” you quip, trying to lighten him.
He smiles a little. “Yeah. Fair enough.”
Finally, the snowstorm breaks. Dean ventures outside and brings you back a long, sturdy stick to lean your weight on when you want to move around, though he claims he’s working on a better solution. Now that the snow has let up, he’ll be able to go out to the shed and do some work.
Whatever that means, you think.
You watch him from the living room when he goes outside to chop some more firewood.
He should really wear a hat. His brown hair is getting dusted white with snow flurries as he continues to swing down the ax. You notice the power in his tall frame, even covered by layers of his jacket, pants, and boots. You almost feel each chop of the wood resonate in your chest.
Heat rises in your cheeks when he looks up, as if he senses he’s being watched. You bow your head and pretend to read your book.
His boots continue to crunch in the snow as he makes trips back and forth from the surrounding forest. Aside from the firewood, he brings back a few long, thinner logs that he takes to the shed. Soon you begin to hear the steady back-and-forth cutting of a saw. You wish you could go out there and take a look, but you can’t even get around the house that easily, let alone venture outside.
Your curiosity about this man knows no bounds, and you decide to use the walking stick he found for you in the meantime to get around without putting pressure on your injured ankle. You know it’s wrong, but you end up traversing the long, dark hallway, pushing open the door to the right, and venturing into Dean’s room.
It smells like him, earthy and tinged with smoke. His scent is seeped into every part of it—the bed, the dresser and nightstands, the dark blue bedsheets, the desk and chair, and even the drapes. It makes you almost lightheaded at the pleasurable feeling of it washing over you.
A shudder suddenly runs down your spine and tugs at your core in arousal. With a sharp intake of breath, you have to shift on your feet, pressing your legs together against the slick already forming down below.
You’re shocked and embarrassed at first. You aim to bolt out of his room, but you stop short in the doorway as it dawns on you.
Your sister is a beta, and so is her husband. She’s never completely understood you as an omega. She never understood your parents either, or the bond they had. She always scoffed at the idea of “true mates.”
Soulmates. It was fantasy and myth, the stuff of cheesy Harlequin novels.
Growing up, you’d agreed with her, even though a part of you deep down always protested. It wanted to tell her not to open her mouth about something she knew nothing about, and would never know.
The day you met Dean, you knew she was wrong.
Your more logical mind tries again to reassert itself though. You remind yourself that you barely know anything about this man, no matter how attractive, kind, funny, enigmatic…
And yet, you can’t shake that part of you that doesn’t rest until you see his face in the morning; until you make him coffee and eat breakfast together, and take any opportunity to pull more threads from him. It’s more than passing attraction. It’s more than just being stuck together in this cabin, unable to escape each other. You know, because the feeling scares you, and it electrifies your blood at the same time.
All these thoughts go through your mind when you turn back around. Slowly, you continue to look around his room, your whole body tingling. The room is neat, more or less, with everything in its proper place. It’s pretty bare though, décor wise. There’s a desk with a few scattered books and a journal sandwiched in between. A smile of surprise forms across your face.
No. Don’t tell me this guy is Mr. Dear Diary? you think in amusement. Though you wonder if it’s another way he passes his time here, especially when he’s holed up in his room.
You know you shouldn’t be snooping, let alone contemplating what you’re about to do…but you can’t help yourself. Biting your lip, you slide out the journal and begin to flip through it.
You frown at the strange drawings and odd entries—dates, narratives, scraps of information on different types of mythological creatures, and even more strange, on how to kill them.
What the hell is this?
That’s when you hear the front door swing open. You bolt from his room as quick as you can, not realizing you took the journal with you in your haste. You stuff it up your sweater and pretend like you’ve just come out of the bathroom on the way back to your room. There you slide the journal under your pillow. You jump when Dean knocks on your door.
“Hey,” he greets.
The jolting pains your ribs, and your hand goes to your left side in a hiss.
“You okay?” he asks, brows furrowing in concern. He takes a step into your room, but you turn to him with a nod and a placating hand.
“Yeah, I’m fine. You just scared me,” you say, with a bit of nervous laughter.
He gives a half smile. “Sorry. Just come ‘ere a sec. I wanna show you something.”
He reaches out a hand to help guide you to the living room.
There he presents you with two rudimentary crutches. Your eyes widen as your free hand passes over the smooth chestnut color of the wood. Dean keeps a light hold on your elbow, just in case.
“You made these?” you ask.
“Yeah, just a bit of woodworking. Picked it up over the last couple of years,” he says.
He’s downplaying it, but you’re nothing short of marveling. You set aside the walking stick in favor of picking up the crutches, and they’re even the right size to position them under your arms.
“Now you don’t have to hobble around like Long John Silver,” Dean quips. You meet the sight of his grin with a raised brow, but you soon begin to smile. When you get close enough to him, you lean the crutches against the couch and give him a warm hug, resting your head on his chest.
“Thank you,” you say. It’s something he was wholly unprepared for, but he hugs you back with a chuckle.
“Uh, you’re welcome.”
Just then, he tries not to inhale your scent. He tries not to focus on the feeling of your body pressed soft and warm against his. You fit just right.
After a beat, you have mercy on him and pull away. You take your crutches back up and continue to walk around the living room experimentally.
“You think I’d be okay trying to go outside?” you ask on your way to the door. Dean tenses.
“Uh, I don’t think—”
But you’re already halfway out the door. He shakes his head and follows you with swift strides. He watches you step out carefully onto the porch like a baby deer. He cleared the snow this morning from the deck and the steps, but he’s more concerned when he sees you considering how you might step out onto the snow.
“Stay on the porch, all right, Bambi,” he warns. “You’re not wearing snow boots and it’s still pretty deep. Not to mention, I’ve been keeping an eye out for a bear that wandered through here last week—”
You turn to look at him over your shoulder in amusement.
“Okay, Alpha. Calm down,” you say playfully. “I’m not gonna go ass over tea kettle.”
His brow twitches as he frowns. Alpha. He fights not to show his reaction to the way you said it; it calls to his baser instincts, almost stirring a rumble in his chest.
Cheeky little omega.
You keep to the porch, but regardless, you’re happy. You don’t even mind the cold. You see your breath on the air, and you tip your head back, closing your eyes with a smile as the sunshine warms your face. You inhale through your nose and let it out slowly in contentment.
“It’s a good day, Dean,” you say quietly.
You don’t realize that he’s watching you with a more reserved smile on his face. When he realizes it, he shakes his head at himself. He’s only been here a week with you, and it’ll probably take a couple more for your ankle to heal up well enough for you to walk again, let alone get down the mountain.
He doesn’t want to leave you alone up here, so he’ll have to somehow keep fending off your probing questions into his past and personal life. There's a lifetime of blood, nightmares, and death that he just can't let you see behind his eyes.
Hell, he's been trying to shove it all down for the past year—in booze and odd jobs and trips to nowhere, always coming back to an empty bunker. He still wonders how Sam's managed to do it, to move on, and build a new life for himself.
If Dean's honest (and he's not), he feels a bit like this cabin; old, falling apart, and forgotten.
But he’ll have to keep taking in your brightness and warmth, continue arguing with you about music and other inane shit, and pretend that every small touch of yours doesn’t ignite his skin. That it doesn’t make him have to beat down every instinct he has to pull you into his body and blanket you with his scent, ravage you, claim you, and make you his.
He never thought this would happen to him. He never thought someone like you was out there…for someone like him.
He knows it though, deep in his gut. You’re meant for him. You’re meant to be his mate.
Which means he’s already screwed.
AN: And we're off! Special thanks again to Michelle (@luci-in-trenchcoats) for being my sounding board when I was first writing this series. Let me know what you think of Part 1! 💜
Next Time:
I buried my wife today. Even as I write that down, I don’t believe it. Last week we were a normal family…eating dinner, going to Dean’s T-ball game, buying toys for baby Sammy. But in an instant, it all changed…
When I try to think back, get it all straight in my head…I feel like I’m going crazy. Like someone ripped both my arms off, plucked my eyes out. I’m wandering around, alone and lost and I can’t do anything.
This is Dean’s father, you realize. The more that you read, with no small amount of dismay, you also realize that this man is writing about his wife, Mary.
Dean’s mom…
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Any Anya dating headcanons? 👀
A/n: hell yeahh I got headcannons for her! Ms girly
Anya relationship headcanons ᡣ𐭩.ᐟ
Nsfw/sfw so mdni pls!
𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟 𓆞
Anya x f!reader ᵔᴗᵔ
It can take place on the tulpar ship and earth, whatever u wanna do mahal ko ᥫ᭡
Sfw headcanons!
★ her love language is words of affirmation. she doubts herself a lot and needs you to tell her you love her, you’re here, etc. But she'll always be there for you too.
★ she likes to crochet in her free time. She'll crochet you scarves and hats for you!
★ when you guys cuddle, she likes being little spoon. The feeling of your arms wrapped around her and your warm body against hers. She loves it.
★ she cooks the BESTT SOUP. Especially when you're sick, whatever kind of soup you want. She'll have a steamy hot bowl ready for her baby.
★ she's always prepared for when you're sick. Making sure she has the right medicine, enough blankets, a bowl of soup or a cup of tea, and some kisses on the head for her sweet girl.
★ loves to take you on picnic dates and would insist you to not bring any food. She'll have it all prepared.
★ she'll always comfort you if you're having a bad day or if you have any other problems, but anya needs some comfort too. She can get overwhelmed with preparing things and with certain tasks, and she'll need you by her side to make her take her time and LOTSS of hugs and reassurance.
★ if you ever feel the slightest bit of pain in any part of your body, she'll come righttt to you. I mean, she's the nurse. What, did you expect?
"are you okay? Where does it hurt? We're you doing anything physical??" Anya asked with concern in her voice.
"Anya, im okay! I really am! I just sprained my ankle."
"You could've gotten a serious injury, sweetheart. You gotta be more careful."
"ITS A SPRAINED ANKLE."
"..but stilll.."
★ loves going shopping with you. Seeing you try on nice outfits and clothes, seeing you so happy with shopping bags in your hands. It makes her melt.
★ lets you put make-up on her, do skin care, or any other activity that gets you to touch her face. it relaxes her a lot. Anya feels closer to you.
★ doesn't mind if you wear her clothes, she finds it cute, actually. She'll wear your clothes too, she'll sniff your shirt and it'll smell like you. Mmmhhh
★ her favorite kind of date to take you on are aquarium dates or ice skating. She'll love to point out pretty fish and other creatures and tell you fun facts about them. Or yall will just sit together watching a pretty tank filled with jellyfish. Her head resting on your shoulder.
★ she enjoys braiding your hair, no matter if it's long or short. She'll sit on the couch, and you'll sit between her thighs while she works on your hair.
★ Always make sure you've eaten today. And if you didn't... OHH, SHES ALREADY COOKIN SUM FOR YO ASSS.
"Why didn't you eat today??"
"I was just not hungry anyaaa."
🤨... "You know what.. no, I'm making you something to eat."
"No, hon, it's okay!"
"SHUSH YOUR BEAUTIFUL FACE."
"Okay.."
★ she'll fix your posture whenever you're standing up or sitting down. She grew up in a proper household, and she WILL NOT have bad posture in her house.
★ just like curly girliess, she'll always fix your appearance or your hair whenever yall go out the house. She just wants you to look neat and nice.
★ likes brushing your hair or playing with your hair, she likes it when you do it to her too!
★ she gets giggly when you guys cuddle, you'll ask her what's funny, and she'll say it's nothing..
★ baby's you when you have period cramps, cradling you in her arms , and kissing your head. Her poor baby.
NSFW HEADCANONS!
★ she graduated university of pussy eatting, SHES THE BESTT.
★ we all know she's the best. She knows all your sensitive spots and where all of your pleasure is.
★ she doesn't mind using toys. She'll use vibratores and dildos with you. But she doesn't like it if they Hella crazy looking or too intense for her. Just the basics like the wands or normal dildos.
★ she isn't super vocal or loud in bed, just some soft moans and whimpers.
★ when you're eating her out, her hands will always be in your hair. She doesn't wanna tug on your hair and hurt you. So she'll dig her nails in your upper back or shoulders. That's how you'll know she'd close.
★ likes scissoring/tribbing, but she'll be too tired to do most of the work. So she'll let you take control and be on top.
★ loves tribbing in missionary, just the feeling of your warm pussy grinding against hers, and feeling her soft clit push against yours. MMH.
★ she prefers to have slow, soft, passionate sex. Nothing rough or too fast.
★ loves it when you wear lingerie for her in bed, seeing the way they wrap around your every curve and body. She thinks you're absolutely gorgeous and model.
★ she doesn't care if you shave or have body hair. she ll support whatever you do. She knows it's normal for hair to grow on your body so she doesn't judge.
★ when she fingers you, she's always patient and going at a steady pace. She'll go faster only when you want her to.
★ RUBS YOUR CLIT WITH HER THUMB WHILE SHE FINGERS YOU AHHH
★ oh my gosh, if you ever do the tongue+finger combo on her, she'll become a whimpering shaking mess. She'll need aftercare.
★ always does aftercare, she loves taking care of you, bathing you, cuddles, and fresh clean, warm pj's after.
★ anya also needs some aftercare, too. She'll be tired afterward and will need comfort and reassurance from you, too. And some bubble baths and take out food. (Honestly real)
★ she's a shooter. NO QUESTIONS ASKED.
A/N!: this is for all my gals out there sorry if this isn't the bestt🙁
#anya mouthwashing#mouthwashing#anya#anya x reader#mouthwashing x reader#wlw#mouthwashing anya#mouthwashing smut
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Rambles under the cut
i like to think Dale was actually a fairly happy kid, especially when he got discovered by Doug, but as he matured and thought back on his situation he grew more hateful and resentful because no one cared to find or look for him for SEVEN YEARS, so why should he care about anyone else? I'm sure doug gave him a good home, and Dale, (much like dev) really admires his father but dale cares more so about how people perceive him rather than actually being cared for, because he doesn't know the difference.
Dale also grew really materialistic to make sure he never had to fear going back to that lemonade sweat shop ever again, which is why he's so attached to his boots rather than his son, because people have failed him before but money and goods have never left him. also I know...basic, sorry, but out of any of the characters, he. HE! He has autism. Dale is not very good at masking and he doesn't make an effort to hide it, but it's kind of hard to notice since he's always alone, and everyone just chalks it up as "capitalist guy who has no sense of the common man" , which is true but let me have fun. Like he never wants to see people despite being a millionaire and like public figure? He says random weird phrases that are just kind of out of touch, and he most likely has an aversion to physical touch as well because I KNOW dev has never gotten a hug. also he's very blunt and doesn't sugar coat anything he says, and while that may be because "he's a millionaire he doesn't have to care about what he says" I like to think it's because he genuinely has no social awareness. At all. He just does whatever the fuck he wants and good for him, kind of. ( Not really) ... Also the statue and the boots thing is simply because he does love his boots more than dev, like it's just a fact. He doesn't hate his son or he didn't do that just to rub it in , it's just a genuine fact for him that he values his boots, material things, things that never hurt him, over his son. I could talk about different examples all day but this is getting too long lol.
Also random head canon, But Dale has asthma and valley fever from all of the untouched dust and dirt filling his lungs from the lemonade stuff, but he's also been able to hold a resistance from needing an inhaler or breathing machine because of it, so he rarely needs it maybe once in a blue moon. Dev also has asthma, but he's literally like. A baby. While his dad is more immune to needing it, dev is just always cooped inside so he's never built any resistance so he needs it frequently.
hehe sorry ok I'm done... probably.... probably not...
#fop#fop anw#fairly odd parents a new wish#fop a new wish#fairly oddparents#dev dimmadome#art#fop dev#dale fopanw#dale fop#dev and dale#dale dimmadome
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early christmas ⟢ rintarou s.
synopsis: you get an early christmas gift from your boyfriend and love it beyond no end, timeskip!suna x fem!reader, christmas time, fluff, short fic
“You've been on that thing forever, at this rate you’re likely to forget me soon.” Rin deadpanned, almost regretting buying that damned thing for you.
Almost.
He could see how happy it made you, especially now that when he got on the game with his friends, you weren’t completely lonely with your new switch lite.
Of course, Christmas was coming up but with being stuck in the house for days due to snow and not being able to make it to work, he knew the best solution for his dear girlfriend.
He watched carefully as you concentrated on digging perfect holes to place trees in, your face was definitely one to remember. He loved seeing your joy filled face as you explained the animal crossing terms to him, even though he'd probably forget half of them within the next hour.
"Uhh, nuh uh." you retorted, not even looking up at him from where he was standing. After Rintarou surprised you with an early Christmas present, even though the big day was less than a week away, you could not stop playing. It was like an excitement that was slowly becoming an addiction.
You took your nintendo lite with you everywhere, to the bathroom when taking long, relaxing baths, to the bar in the kitchen where you both eat breakfast.
And even so far as playing it in public during downtime if you both were able to leave the house. You loved every minute of your new game console, especially since it was in your favorite color too.
However, Suna had to draw some lines when you pulled an all-nighter playing your game because you 'just had to get something done'.
"I think it's mostly your fault though, you let me open it early, so." you trailed off, sticking your tongue out wherever you thought he was from your peripheral.
Your eyes stuck to your little character as she ran around the plaza trying to talk with every villager. You couldn’t help but to get so happy when you saw the Christmas decorations around your island. As well as hounding on your game for so long, day and night, you were able to make lots of progress.
You barely noticed that Suna sat down beside you on the king sized bed, his PS5 left on and if you really paid attention, you could hear his friends calling for him.
"Love, at least give me a kiss before you leave off into the island of Y/n." he joked, you tore your eyes away from the screen and started to feel bad in the way that you were ignoring your boyfriend.
"I'm sorry Rinnie, I just really love the game, but I'll be sure to take breaks and spend actual quality time with you." you promised, saving and putting your game console away.
The relief basically melted off of Suna, now he finally understands the other side of the story when he used to not pay enough attention to you when gaming.
"Thanks, love." he murmured, pressing a soft kiss to your lips, relishing in the fact that he could taste the leftover dark chocolate crumbs on your lips from when you snack as you play.
"You're such an angel, you know that right? My angel." he couldn't help the smile that broke out across his face when you laughed and rolled your eyes. You were such the purest sight ever to him, this is what he missed. Of course he loves when you have an enjoyable hobby but physical contact was so much better in his opinion.
"Want to ditch the games for the rest of the night and watch a Christmas movie with me?" you giggled into his black sweatshirt, it smelling of his fancy body wash that you gifted him as a 'just because' gift.
"Obviously, anything to spend more time with you love." he hopped up, turning off his own gaming console and sending a text to his group chat before lounging with you in bed.
After a small discussion on which streaming service, you both finally decided on Hulu to watch Elf.
As the movie played and the lights were dimmed in the bedroom, you got sentimental, watching Rintarou’s handsome features being lit up by the movie.
"You know, I'm really grateful for my gift. I love it." you said quietly, hiding your face even though you both have been together for almost four years now.
He squeezed you tighter to him, loving your small confession, his heart felt unbearably warm at the act.
"I'm glad love, only the best for you." he kissed your temple knowing that his small confession would ring true when he got the balls to get the ring box out of his sock drawer and pop the question.
But for now, he smiled and watched your reactions to the movie, wondering how he got so lucky.
a/n: hihi! i've been obsessed with animal crossing lately, so sorry i've been inactive!! i hope you enjoy, and requests are open! <3
#haikyuu x reader#hq fluff#haikyuu fluff#kodzu indulges!#kodzu girl blogging#kodzu writing#hq x reader#kodzu fics#hq x you#haikyuu x you#suna rintarō#suna rintarou#suna x reader#sunaookami shiroko#suna rintaro x reader#suna rintaro haikyuu#haikyuu suna#haikyuu time skip#haikyuu x reader fluff#haikyuu x y/n#hq suna
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Thaw My Heart
❄️❄️Midnight's DCA December Day 9❄️❄️
Another done! Had some fun with this but won't lie, little out of it today due to some meds so this MAY be a bit incoherent, apologies in advance if so. That being said, hope you like it!
Prompt: Oh, this is such a cool idea!! i think my request will be making the DCA like the grinch, hating Christmas because they never got to really enjoy it themselves! Not just Moon- but Sun as well. It’s something they both strangely agree on, they’ll decorate and pretend for the kids, but when the reader is alone working with the both of them or cleaning up after hours, they learn that both actually lowkey DESPISE Christmas… So! The reader has to find out why and fix that! Before the DCA met the reader, they never got to help someone warm up from the cold outside, never kissed someone under mistletoe, never had a reason to bake cookies (they shouldn’t get the kids hyper and they have to consider allergies), nor have they ever had someone get them a Christmas gift! Then, by Christmas, both of them manage to make a very sweet homemade gift, something sentimental and both Sun and Moon are worried sick it isn’t good enough, similarly the reader is scared their gift isn’t good enough either… so just in general- helping the DCA truly learn what Christmas is about and why people like it so much- not for the commercialized reasons!
Word Count: 2597
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You noticed the moment you walk into the Daycare, boxes of holiday decorations in tow, that something's wrong.
Well, maybe wrong isn't quite the right word, but there's something up with the Attendant, that's for certain. Sun's smile doesn't match his tone, strained as he takes note of the items in stacked in your arms.
"Oh? What's all this, friend?" He asks you, but there's something about the way he says it that tells you he is already fully aware.
Still, you brush it off as you misreading things and smile, setting the boxes down nearby. "Decorations of course! Figured we'd go ahead and get started now since the month will go by fast. Want to help?"
"Sure... I would love to..."
Again his tone gives you pause. You turn to glance at him, concerned smile on your face. "Is everything alright?"
Sun seems to realize himself, shaking his head. "Of course! Sorry friend, I didn't mean to worry you. Let's get started!"
"Great! We should be able to get most of them up before the kids arrive." You start to open boxes, pulling out decorations.
"Can't wait."
You do get started, managing to put up the tinsel and wreaths prior to the official start of your shift.
When the kids arrive, they're more than thrilled. In fact, all they can talk about is what holiday crafts and activities you'll be doing this month. You're happy to indulge, but again, you can't help but notice that Sun's acting, off, about the whole ordeal.
You're certain something's wrong when Moon appears for naptime, less than thrilled when the children ask for holiday stories as opposed to his usual. Still, he obliges, despite the strain noticeable in his words as he does so.
It isn't until after the end of the day, when you decide to stay for a bit longer to decorate that you find out the reason for their odd behavior.
You're decorating the mini tree for the security desk when you hear a disgruntled noise from Sun. Peeking over, you see his eyes are narrowed as he examines the small green and white herb in his hands; mistletoe.
Not being able to help yourself now, you decide to speak up. "Are you sure everything is okay? You guys have been kind of off today."
"To be honest, Sunshine. I kind of hate all of this." Sun says, blunt.
You turn to him, eyes wide, not quite the answer you were expecting. "I, oh, I'm so sorry. We don't um, we don't have to do all this if you don't want to—"
His turn to be surprised, seemingly at his own slip up. "Oh no no no, I'm sorry, friend! I don't mean to discourage your fun, or the children’s." His rays shrink and looks away from you, tone bitter. "It's just, well, we've never had a good reason to celebrate, Moon and I."
You frown, setting down the items in your hand as you move over to him, hand on his arm. "Would you, want to talk about it maybe?"
Sun jumps at your touch, looking down. He seems to hesitate a moment, then moves away.
"That's alright, friend! No need to worry about it. It's just a small pet peeve is all."
He moves to the other side of the Daycare, humming a tune now. However, it doesn't go unnoticed by you how tightly he grips the bundle of mistletoe in his hands.
Your frown deepens, concerned and even a bit of sadness seeping in for a moment. Then, you shake your head, a determination setting in as you decide you have to do something about their heavy dislike for the holidays. You don't know their reasoning, and perhaps it was none of your business, but you would do your part to make things right for them, no matter what.
Was it partly because you've had a rather large crush on both sides of the attendant for some time? No, definitely not. Was it absolutely because they were your friends and that regardless of the whether the felt the same for you, you just wanted to make them happy? yes, of course. And if you could cling to that latter fact and ignore the rest, well, that's what you'll do then.
You decided to start small, probe out how much their disdain outweighed their desire to make others happy. Your first idea was prepping crafts for the kids, making a few small things for both attendants yourself. They were receptive, at least you think.
You were well aware when Sun disliked a piece of art, going so far as to cover it on the bulletin board with something else he preferred, ever the dramatic, you know. But with your little snowflakes, and you roughly cut out tree, those were hung front and center. You took this as a good sign.
The next step was baking, something not actively Christmasy but very well could be. So, you invited them both to join you in the kitchen and bake cookies for the kids and some of the staff. This, while messy, also seemed to go okay. While maybe not overly enthused, they did seem to at least enjoy your company in the work. And maybe you were going a little crazy, but they really seemed to appreciate your time together.
Like when Sun towers over you, hand under your chin as he chuckles. "You've got flour on your nose, Starshine! Let me get that for you." He wiped it off with a swipe of his thumb, but his hand remained for just a few moments more before finally pulling away.
And then later, with Moon as you waited in front of the oven for the cookies to finish, draping a banket over your shoulders and providing you a cup of hot chocolate. Which would have been fine on its own, if he hadn't sat down beside you, arm on your shoulder.
"You seemed a bit cold, can't have you getting sick on us now, right?"
To say you were flustered would be an understatement.
It got much worse when you decide to try watching a few holidays together, without the kids. Alone.
You were used to cozying up with the attendant on occasion, as friends, of course. But this felt different somehow.
Maybe it was how you were snuggled into their lap, their arms around yours as you binged several holiday movies late into the night, well past the end of your shift. How you woke up in that same pose the next morning, not intending at all to have stayed so long. Or in such an, intimate position.
Adding on to that, when you made holiday cards with the kids, you received several from a mysterious secret admirer that you could only assume was the two of them. And while simple, and silly, there was an air of flirting to the little cards you’d found scattered about that made your heart flutter.
It convinced you to finally, shoot your shot, so to say, and decide to commit to the gift ideas you had for them, that went past the bounds of friendship into an actual confession of sorts. You just simply hoped you were right with your thoughts.
The closer the end of the month came however, you felt a shift in the two. They were still indulging you and your ideas, and enjoying your time together, however, you noticed they started to draw back a bit. Become more, nervous perhaps?
You weren’t quite sure, but it certainly didn’t help your own anxieties that had begun to build again. Maybe you were wrong, and the feelings you believed had been growing had just been all in your head, as usual. But, you were far too gone now to back out of these gifts.
And so, there you stood, awkward and on edge as you wait for Sun to say goodbye to the last child before closing down for the day. Once he does, he whips to face you, hands together, fidgeting.
"Friend."
"Sun." You smile, but your nerves make you worry it doesn’t quite reach your eyes. You clear your throat. "I, um, have something for you guys. If that’s, um, alright."
"Oh!" He seems surprised, but also, off put?
"Is, is that okay?" You squeak out, cringing at how your voice rises.
He turns to face you fully, hands clasped. "Yes. Of course."
"G-great! Well, um." You take a deep breath, presenting the gift you had for Sun first. "Here you go!"
Sun gently takes the wrapped gift in your hands, inspecting it just a moment before meticulously unwrapping it.
He holds the metal container up, rays flicking a moment. "Crayons?" He asks, voice light, slightly teasing.
"Oil pastels, actually. Thought you could um, expand your horizons!"
"Oh..." He trails off, then lights up. "Oh oh oh! How lovely friend! Thank you!"
You beam. "Of course!"
Sun stares down at the gift for a moment, hand tracing the edge of the box for a moment.
"Is it alright if I give Moon his?" You ask after a bit more quiet.
Sun seems to come out of his daze, nodding once.
A few seconds later, the lights are off, Moon holding his hands out expectantly for his gift. It makes you chuckle, taking a bit of your nervous edge off.
Once it's in his hands, he tears into it, and because of the nature of what's inside you have to scold him about being more careful.
It's a neatly wrapped collection of books. Your hand grazes over his own as you explain. "You have access to all sorts of titles through your data base I know, but I know you like be able to hold something physically—"
Moon's smile presses to the top of your head for just a moment, shutting you up instantly as he chuckles.
You cough, ears burning. "Well, um, I'll take it that you like it then?"
"Very much so, Star."
You nod, nerves on high alert as you fidget with the last package hidden under your jacket.
Moon seems to pick up on your anxiety. "Is everything alright?"
"Yeah! Yeah I just, um." You shake your head. "Listen, I know you guys have been trying your best to go along with my shenanigans this month, and I've really appreciated it. Truly, I have. So I wanted to give you this, for um, both of you. If that's okay."
Before Moon can say anything further, you shove the gift into his arms, stepping back.
"I know it's kind of awkward since you can't open it at the same time but—"
Something happens then, Sun's rays appear around the sides of Moon's hat, one of his eyes shifting to match the white of the playtime attendant's.
"We can." They both answer. "Not very often, but just for you, we can make it happen." You swear the bot winks at you for a moment, before opening the present.
However, the playful nature is gone once they realize what's inside, freezing entirely as they stare down at the large, slightly messy, book. You know why, you weren't exactly subtle with the title of the scrapbook, 'All the things I love about you'. Their hands shake just slightly as they look page through page. And as the silence grows, your smile starts to falter more and more.
"You, you made this for us?" They ask, tones unreadable in that moment.
"Yeah, um, I, I did. I just um, I've, I've really liked you, both of you, for so long and I just thought that this would be the chance to show that,"—you swallow, shaking your head—"I care. I care a lot."
Neither speaks. Their faceplate twitching to the side every so often being the only indication they haven't completely crashed. This was a mistake, you realize in that moment. You've read this all wrong, and any kindness they showed you throughout this month was just simply out of the desire to appease you and your stupid holiday traditions.
When they still say nothing, you take a deep breath, starting to make your way towards the Daycare doors. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't, I guess I just misunderstood—I wanted to make something memorable for you both, but I think I've ruined that now and I—"
A hand on your wrist stops you. In a swift movement, you're spun around, pulled in close to the Attendant's chest. Their gaze as they stare down at you is softer than you've ever thought possible.
"Starlight." They say.
You swallow again. "Yeah?"
"We're going to kiss you now." Their other hand comes up to your cheek, head tilting. "Is that alright?"
It takes you a second to register what they've said. Then—"Oh! O-okay then."
The Attendant bends down, pressing their smile to your lips. After a few, long, exceedingly tender moments, they pull back.
They must notice how starstruck you are, as they chuckle then, still holding you close.
"We have something to confess."
The hand on your chin goes to play with your hair. "To be honest, the reason we've never liked the holidays was because we've never had anyone to share it with."
"We've always been on the sidelines, watching as everyone else gets to partake in the festivities. It was, lonely."
Their gaze comes back to your own. "Until you came along, that is."
More heat rushes to your cheeks.
"You made us realize that this time of year, it means something to so many people. You made it worth all the years that came before, and made us see that there's something special about it, and, about you."
Before you can say anything, they kiss you again, then step back. "We, we have something for you too, if you'll still accept, that is."
"Yes." You say immediately, then clear your throat. "I mean, yes, of course. Why wouldn't I?"
Another chuckle. "You were just about to walk out the door, Sunbeam. We got a little worried."
You giggle, but find yourself speechless as they pull out their gift to you. It's an intricately patterned bracelet, with multiple connections and chains that are woven together so meticulously. The charms seem to glisten in the low light, twinkling like stars.
"We don't um, have access to a lot, in here, but, well, it's what we have." They look up to you then. "Could we, put it on you?"
You nod. "Please."
They're faceplate spins once, and taking hold of your wrist, they attach the bracelet. It jingles and clinks ever so slightly as they take hold of your handing, squeezing gently.
"I love it." You say after a moment, free hand reaching up to cup their face. "Thank you."
This gives them pause, they turn away, face spinning rather quickly in a way that makes you laugh. You think if possible they'd be blushing.
You turn their focus back to you, standing on your tiptoes. "So you really meant it? I've changed your mind? Among, um, other things?"
They answer you with another kiss that makes your heart soar.
"Yes, among other things."
You nod, once, twice. Then—"Sweet."
The comment makes them laugh, and you join in, only being interrupted by another kiss, to your hand, your cheek, and your lips again. And with how tightly they hold on to you, and how warm you feel in that moment, something tells you there's many more to follow.
Yeah, you'd consider this quiet the success after all, in more ways than one.
❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️
gahh i tried to go for a bit of extra fluff at the end there, hope it turned out alright! Thank you @cosmic-quakes for the super cute request! Hope i did it justice ^-^
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#this was a lot of fun#just wish my brain was braining a bit more ashdkfjs#but anyway the concept of the dca slowly warming up to christmas bc of reader was just so cute grahh#fnaf dca#dca fandom#fnaf daycare attendant#fnaf sun#fnaf moon#sundrop#moondrop#dca fic#x reader#MM dca december
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Somebody Who Will
Summary: In which you get the best present of all this holiday season... even if it can't fit under the tree
Track 2 of fruitcake - buy me presents
A/N: missed writing for my babyyy
I never done secret Santa before so idrk how it's done- so I'm apologizing beforehand.
Working for the devils was amazing as it always is well if you exclude the absolute chaos that happens when you're hanging out with the team.
Seeing Cap every day was definitely a plus. Did you have a crush on your co-worker who you definitely shouldn't have a crush on? Yes.
Did you tell one of his best friends about said crush on your fellow co-worker? Also yes.
Jack nudged your side, getting your attention.
"Did you hear Nico? We're doing secret Santa today." Jack told you. "I just hope I don't get Luke again."
You laughed beside him. "What a nightmare that was."
"Haha very funny." Jack rolled his eyes.
You put your hand in the bowl and picked up a piece of paper, Jack did the same as well.
Your eyes widened when you saw the name on yours, Nico.
"Shit," You cursed. "Hey Jack can we switch?" You whispered.
Jack only chucked. "Hm sorry dude, mine is actually a good one. Who did you get? Was it Nico?"
Jack laughed louder when you didn't reply. "Oh my god is it actually?"
You huffed. "Don't get too happy, only gonna make my feelings for him worse than it already is."
"Well we have two weeks till the Christmas party, I'm sure you'll find a gift and a way to tell him." He reassured you.
You shrugged. "Yeah yeah, whatever you say hughes."
"I mean I can help you... but only if you get good photos of me on the ice today." Jack looked at you, seriously.
You rolled your eyes. "So more girls can swoon over you? No way."
"Fine help me with mine, and I'll maybe set you up with Nico, I got Dawson." Jack confessed.
"See now we're getting somewhere, this can work." You grinned. "And hm I'll throw in the photos for free."
Jack hugged you tight. "You're the best!"
"I know, you never tell me enough."
The next two weeks have been a blur, suddenly you were about to go to the Christmas party in a couple of minutes, gift in hand.
When you first walked into the party you were heavily greeted by some of the wags and of course, Jack.
"Have you talked to Nico yet? Did you confess your undying love for him?" Jack immediately laughed.
You swatted your hand at him in embarrassment as the wags gave knowing looks, some smirking.
"He's... he's joking guys." You tried to tell them.
One of them chuckled. "Don't think I ever seen Jack joke about this." The wags began agreeing.
You groaned internally, it was one thing when Jack was saying it but the wags as well? You were doomed.
"Oh hey is that Nico over there? On the balcony." Jack pointed out.
You snapped your head immediately, ignoring the chuckles and saw that Jack was in fact right.
"I-I'll be right back." You begin to walk off, the wags and Jack(who is somehow the loudest) cheering you on.
You opened the door, signaling your arrival. Nico's shoulder relaxed when he saw it was you.
"Hey." He smiled softly.
You moved closer to him. "Hey. I got you a little something."
You gave him the gift which he immediately accepted. You awaited his reaction as he unwrapped the gift. A photo of the two of you in a photoframe(that you definitely didn't steal from Jack).
"Wow..." Nico was at a lost of words.
It was a silly photo really, Jack took it one night. You smiled big at the camera while Nico was too busy looking at you, trapped in a love sick gaze.
"This is amazing." Nico looked at you. "Thank you."
"Oh it's not a big deal, kinda had to get you something." You shrugged it off to ignore your racing heart.
Nico chuckled softly at your reaction, clearly amused.
"So what's with the bow?" You chuckled, gesturing to his hair where it was stuck... oddly.
"Jack made me do it." Nico mutters. "Said I would make a good present for you? I did get an actual present for you though, it's kinda big."
You are grinning, biting back a smile. "Well you still look cute if that means anything."
Nico pulled you closer in his embrace. "Oh yeah?"
You nodded. "Definitely."
You take the bow off his head. "I like you better without it though."
You looked back to see Nico with a slight flush appearing on his face.
"You truly think that?" Nico asked, vulnerability evident in his tone.
You nod slowly, smiling. "Of course, I would be a fool if I didn't."
"I love you Y/n." Nico's hand traces your hip lightly. "Just wanted you to know."
You sighed. "I love you too Nico, no need to worry about it."
You leaned into his touch, the two of you staying like that for a while as the night whisked you two away in your own little world.
#nhl imagine#nhl#nhl hockey#nhl players#verycoolusername1#new jersey devils#nico hischier#jack hughes#njd#nico hischier fanfic#nico hischier imagine#nico hischier x reader#nico hischier imagines#nj devils#nh13
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○•°LOA success°•○
Just a bit of a motivation to put out there I guess?
I know many of you guys struggle with completely accepting the law. I've been there too, and I tend to "fall back" into negativity from time to time still. But every time I do, I always have to realise that it's all up to me, it's all up to what I believe in, and what kind of thoughts and believes I feed into myself.
So let this serve as a healthy reminder that you're in fact capable, that once you decide something to be true, it's true, and that's it. That's IT!!!
Overnight changes? Very demure. It's tea. And it's so simple, fast and real that you don't even realise it happened until it gets brought up in some way.
Yesterday I was organising my vision boards on Pinterest - adding new pictures, deleting some that I don't associate myself with anymore. Then I saw this picture of a public figure who I really admire recently, and I added it to my "Looks" folder. I just realised how pretty and inspiring I find her, and how she kind of looks like my ideal appearence in many ways. I don't know, let's call her Sharon. I searched and scrolled a bit more, finding more pictures of Sharon that I like, and added those pictures to the folder too.
And that's when the magic begins, it's very simple, really.
I was basically just looking at the pictures, telling myself how I look exactly like her, how she's basically me, we're twinning, etc etc...
I also did this very cutesy thing that works for me all the time, visualizing people I know telling me the same things.
And let me repeat: when you decide something to be real and true, it's REAL. AND. TRUE. I'm very lucky when it comes visualization, I can easily change my inner image of me or anything, and from that point on, I see it and think it like that, ignoring the 3D.
Literally that's all I did.
I wasn't even thinking about it today, I just thought to myself once in front of the mirror while throwing on some makeup how I look like Sharon. The 3D? I honestly don't know how it showed or how it shows now, because even if I see it, I only perceive the 4D, the true reality, that's what I feed to my mind.
A few hours later I was hanging out with friends in this cute little café, talking about everything. Again, I was not thinking about this "change" I decided to have the day before. It was there maybe in the back of my mind, showing up in the form of how I carry myself, but there were zero thoughts about it.
Then Chat GPT and it's features were brought up (exciting I know), and the TikTok trends with it, like the special bots that help with looksmaxing, finding your celebrity lookalike, etc etc...We were analysing one of my friend's features, how she looks kind of like this actress and that actress, then she looks at me dead in the eyes and says:
"Do you know who you look like? Like Sharon. I've been thinking about it"
Like... I was kind of speechless for a few seconds. She was one of the people I imagined saying this thing to me the day before. On the outside I was nonchalant about it, but I actually got really excited and happy. Then she confused my nonchalantness with denial, and kept trying to convince me about it. XDD She even involved our other friend who was also agreeing with her, and they went on with this casual discussion about how my features and the way I smile gives complete Sharon... I could ramble more about it, but you get what I'm trying to say here.
It's simple. It's simple and great and wow.
And once you touch into it you realise that it's very real, even if you had doubts before.
Well I hope this helped or motivated a few of you out there, at least that was my point with it.
If I can do it, there is literally no reason why you couldn't. You got this!! It was not complicated, not hard, not something out of my reach. You can get whatever you imagine.
Have a wonderful day, and don't forget to enjoy the journey!
You're capable, you're amazing, you're everything and more! <33
#loa success#loa#manifesting#law of assumption#loassumption#loablr#loassblog#manifest#law of assumption success#loa blog
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There are already so many AU's that I figure no one will notice another one, so I might as well suggest the one is been thinking about. What if Arthur actually was reborn as Daemon's son? He can be a bastard, or an older son of Rhae/Elyse, whichever one you like the most. If he is a bastard, would Daemon even know about him? I'm assuming his mother would have been a prostitute Daemon was fond of, but would she have told him that they had a child together? Would she have told Arthur who his father is? If he's another son of Rhae/Elyse, would he have tried to get into contact with Daemon sooner? If he gets Summerhalled at the same time as Jon and Rhaegar, would it be harder for their relationship to develope, since Arthur and Rhaegar already know each other and Jon would be something of an outsider? There are honestly so many places this AU could go.
It depends on if the setup is meant to be fairly similar (Arthur shows up as a mystery knight to compete for the Princesguard).
If so, aka he's 16ish, what probably makes the most sense is a either a prostitute or a lord's daughter who got swept up in the romance of sleeping with a prince. Perhaps a woman from the Dornish marshes (like Cole) briefly just before he was forced to marry Rhea. That would work best with the timing (Daemon would have been 17 and he's 34 right now).
Since Daemon was in Runestone when the baby was born and now married, she likely knew the king would not look kindly on her bringing scandal on the marriage, so wouldn't have contacted Daemon. There's also the potential issue of not knowing for certain whose child it was (depending on if she was a prostitute or not)--perhaps his eyes were more blue/dark at birth and only settled into purple when he was a year or two old.
It somewhat amuses me to think that Arthur is actually mistaken for a bastard of House Dayne when a member stumbles across him and his mother a few years later. Say, perhaps, by the Lord of Starfall's younger brother who died of summer sickness. In that scenario, he is likely raised in Dornish fashion as a noble son of House Dayne via a paramour and could conceivably still be awarded Dawn and become the Sword of Morning.
I think this path works better than Elys and/or Rhea keeping another child secret from Daemon, which often feels a little too outlandish to me.
Then there are the fun questions of what to do, once everyone takes a look at the mystery "Dornish" knight and is like...anyone else notice that he looks a LOT like Daemon? With Jon's dark hair? Arthur must know his mother's name, which Daemon may or may not recognize. If he does, then shit, that's his son. *grabby hands* No, you are NOT joining the Princesguard, you are a PRINCE once Viserys legitimizes you.
(Meanwhile, Arthur has his first argument with Daemon because of COURSE he's joining the Princesguard, who better than a prince to guard other princes like his precious younger brothers? While Daemon is adamant that he should be allowed to marry and have children and he can still be a knight, and how is he supposed to claim a dragon if he's stuck on guard duty all the time. Which...is something that Arthur never considered because DRAGONS. HIM. WHAT.)
In fairness, Arthur has only known Rhaegar for a few months (I have him joining the Kingsguard roughly six months before Rhaegar gets summerhalled), so about the same length of time Jon and Rhaegar have known one another! So I don't think it hampers him bonding with Jon too much, especially given how starry-eyed Jon will be about the Sword of Morning being their BROTHER, how cool. (Rhaegar shaking his head because Jon saved the world and doesn't realize that HE'S the coolest.)
I get the sense that Arthur and Daemon would clash heads a lot, too. Arthur doesn't really have any childhood trauma in his original life, so it's not like he's seeking a father figure, and his pre-summerhall version here had a happy childhood in Starfall. Daemon is, as far as he's concerned, the sperm donor.
What ultimately wins him over some with regard to Daemon is probably how sweet he is with the twins, and how badly they want him to be their brother. But Arthur probably always consider Daemon more of an ally than his father-father, despite Daemon's best efforts.
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Something that really strikes me about the Zauntrio flashback is the fact that Silco only has two lines in the entire 3-minute scene. First, he says, "Oh, you're sadly mistaken. I'm bozo 1." Then, "To Zaun, then; blisters and bedrock." That's all he contributes. He does shut his notebook and move closer to the group after Felicia shares the news, but that's it. He has no comments to make about his seemingly close friend's pregnancy. No questions, no reassurance, hardly even a reaction beyond the knee-jerk surprise and a few vague smiles.
I've seen people say that Silco's villain arc makes no sense with the context of this "happy family" scene, but the way I read it is the complete opposite. He doesn't seem particularly thrilled about kids being in the picture. He seems like he's suppressing something. Faintly smiling and throwing out vague uplifting statements but tactfully dodging the actual elephant in the room. Whatever he's thinking is something he wants to keep to himself.
By the time we've met up with them in Season 1, Silco wanted a revolution and control, while Vander wanted peace between Piltover and Zaun. It wasn't always like that, though, and the implication is that Vander's perspective changed once he became responsible for the kids. So I think what we're witnessing in the flashback scene is the very first cracks in the trio. It's Silco realising that it isn't always going to be just the three of them. It's him questioning what this all means for the bloody revolution and hard-earned independence he always envisioned.
It's only a few small fractures at this stage, but those cracks would've only grown once Vi and Powder were actually in the picture. If Vander's flashbacks as Warwick are anything to go by, Silco didn't have much of a role in raising the kids even when he was still friends with Vander and Felicia. A pseudo-family wasn't what he wanted, so he drifted apart from the trio, a force in the background trying to keep Vander's head in the game when there were so many distractions to pull him off track.
All this building tension culminates on the bridge, where Silco started the fight that got Felicia and Connol killed. That's where their paths diverge entirely; where Vander realises that family and community is his priority now, not blind violence and carnage, while Silco doubles down on his idea of revolution at all costs. Without Felicia there to hold them together, the two remaining halves split apart, and Vander attempts to drown him.
This would explain why Silco is so nonchalant about potentially killing Vi as early as Episode 3, despite her being Felicia's child. We know he believes that power "comes to those who will do anything to achieve it". I find it hard to imagine that mentality started only after Vander tried to kill him. It might have only been seeds of dormant ruthlessness back then, but it's enough to believe that this is the same Silco who threatens Marcus using his daughter and shows no regard for the death of Renni's son. Silco does not care about children or the sanctity of a new generation. He does not believe in family.
But despite all of this, I do think he recognised Powder. He saw himself in her when he witnessed Vi's abandonment and betrayal. It was easy to rationalise the decision to take her in; he recognised her potential to become an asset to their revolution. But whether there were deeper emotions there from the beginning or if those only formed with time, he definitely did not expect to love her like a parent. That was not his nature, as far as he knew. It was only after he was given the ultimatum by Jayce that he truly understood Vander's perspective, and by then, he was already undone.
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okay which drivers do you think would want to come out as a couple and which ones would you have to ask to come out as a couple?
also congrats on 250!!! so proud of you ❤️
thank you milo <3333
this one's interesting because i could kinda see a lot of them in either category but here's my current thoughts:
warnings: suggestive content (lando, kimi a, rbr + ferrari!seb), mentions of affectionate bullying (lando), mentions of having kids (am + retired!seb, kimi r), mentions of marriage (am + retired!seb, jenson), mentions of joke flirting with someone else (ollie), mentions of violence (logan), mild angst (kimi a, logan), autistic!oscar bc i said so
asks you to go public:
alex albon:
something you will notice about when i write alex is that he is just a goofy guy
like he'd ask to go public but only because he's either a) already accidentally revealed the relationship or b) wanting to post goofy boyfriend photos of you
if it's the first one he's got a back-up "i'm sorry" gift in case you're not exactly ready
if it's the second one he's already got a post drafted and you better believe he will post it the SECOND he gets approval
he's silly and bad at keeping it a secret but he'll try his best for you
franco colapinto:
yappatron 6000
he's probably already told the whole grid and every mechanic who would listen to him for more than five seconds
knows it's only a matter of time before he starts talking about you in interviews
definitely the type to forget that he's famous
his family knows, lewis hamilton congratulated him on being a (sort of) out F1 driver ... everyone else can just find out randomly as far as he's concerned
mick schumacher:
wants to post all the couples pictures he has of you two
how can you possibly say no to this golden retriever?
it's impossible
you hard launch ten minutes later
lando norris:
so i don't usually write for lando but i do sometimes so 🤷♂️
would probably ask to go public just to prove that he actually can get a date (he doesn't like to talk about his instagram attempts)
it backfires immediately
now instead of being teased for being single he's being teased for being whipped
tells everyone you asked him to go public and then forgets to turn his mic off while streaming and accidentally reveals that he literally begged you
needless to say, his friends refuse to let him live it down
charles leclerc:
ok listen he's a pretty boy and he wants to be shown off
he wants to follow you around and be your arm candy
will get very very pouty if you hesitate or refuse
he'll understand, but he will be pouty until you either kiss him, cuddle him, or agree to go public
when you're out he's just a happy little bunny wandering around the paddock and abandoning his team responsibilities if he sees you
(ferrari tries to ban you from the paddock, charles cries until they give in)
aston martin + retired era sebastian vettel:
if he can't win races he wants to make it VERY clear that all his flirting over the year was just for funsies
like with his whole cool mature twink-death phase, he brings up the idea of settling down
you're not impressed
"sebastian we have three kids. if you still think this is 'casual' i don't know what to tell you."
... he does sleep on the couch for a couple nights
eventually he will convince you tho and you'll go to your first race with the whole paddock knowing you're his husband and not just his Really Close Friend Who He Happened To Touch A Lot.
ollie bearman:
i know this is kinda contradictory to the crossdressing post but i think ollie would bring up coming out before you?
like, prema knows, haas knows, ferrari knows, his family knows ... he knows he's pretty secure
does joke about bearnelli with you
which results in you (jokingly) flirting with dino or arthur and a very whiny baby bear
probably wouldn't want to do it until after / part way through his rookie season
just so he's a little more settled yk?
you ask to go public:
jenson button:
this one might be a lil controversial
i think jenson would actually to prefer to stay private for longer?
like, he won't tell anyone when you're dating
but the second you're married he's like
EVERYONE LOOK AT MY HUSBAND HE'S SO HOT
sky tries to reprimand him and jenson shows up to the next race with one of those "i ❤️ my husband" t-shirts and rainbow trousers
he looks like a dork but it's okay because he's cute
kimi antonelli:
absolutely adores you and talks about you at prema all the time
talks about you at mercedes all the time
george already knows your shoe size (among other things)
but the idea of going public and everyone knowing he has a boyfriend? absolutely terrifying
he kinda just posts the same sorts of things he posts with ollie and hopes everyone will assume you're just a friend
you're fine with it, because you know you're always the one he runs to for celebratory kisses after a win :)
kimi raikkonen:
shouldn't be surprising
he's not actively hiding you or actively trying to tell people
he just ... doesn't really talk about his personal life?
some of the drivers know, some don't
he's 100% been wearing a wedding/promise/whatever ring for years and nobody notices
there's a chance nobody knows he's ever dated anyone until your kid starts karting and he posts a video of the kid everyone thought was just his calling you dad and the internet explodes
lance stroll:
would rather die than have journalists asking you invasive questions
everyone knows he's dating someone but nobody knows who
lawsuits + bribes to any tabloids who get photos of you
insists on getting you a bodyguard if you ever come out
you try to get his dad to reason with him
lawrence thinks lance could be worse
overall, billionaire boyfriend just wants to cuddle at home and will do anything to protect that
10/10 very cute and whiny when he realises that means you can't go with him to Official F1 Business™ things
logan sargeant:
might've been half-out in the junior formulae?
like kind of an open secret in the paddock but he doesn't post about it
then he gets promoted to f1
at first he's super excited because he knows you get along really well with lily (alex's gf) and with all the talk of williams being a family, hopes you'll get to do normal wag/hab stuff with her
then things go downhill
logan absolutely refuses to let you anywhere near williams
half out of fear that somebody would say something rude to you
half out of fear that you'd light v*wles on fire if you got close enough
oscar piastri:
this man is Oblivious with a capital "O"
he tries his best really but he just. doesn't pick up on cues like that.
(yes this is me pushing my autistic!oscar agenda idc i'm autistic i'm allowed to say it)
has a massive folder of cute photos that either include you or remind him of you
it takes up about a quarter of his phone's storage
he refuses to delete any of them
still keeps it pretty private if you do ask to go public
he likes that he can just be oscar with you
he doesn't want the media taking that away from him
will only delete some of his photos when they're copied onto two separate usb's that are both in fireproof safes (one in his apartment in monaco, one in his childhood home in melbourne)
rbr + ferrari era sebastian vettel:
i recently saw this era described as feral twink energy and. yeah.
he's flirting with anything in the paddock that has a pulse
fans? yes.
journalists? yes.
drivers? yes.
team members? yes.
fia officials? yes.
EVERYBODY
eventually you'll ask if he could just please mention that he is, in fact, taken and (here's where it depends on if you're dom/sub) either make you beg or push you to the point of fucking it out of him
if anyone saw one of you limping in the paddock one day?
no they didn't.
this was fun, i definitely enjoy going deeper into what i think the drivers would be like in relationships :D
#vinnie's 250#formula 1 x male reader#alex albon x male reader#charles leclerc x male reader#franco colapinto x male reader#jenson button x male reader#kimi antonelli x male reader#kimi raikkonen x male reader#lance stroll x male reader#logan sargeant x male reader#mick schumacher x male reader#ollie bearman x male reader#oscar piastri x male reader#sebastian vettel x male reader
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