#so he probably doesn't remember him at all
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lxvvie · 1 day ago
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Simon doesn't think he's ever tasted something so good in his fuckin' life before.
He didn't know what he was in for this time when he got back from deployment, and nicotine and whiskey ain't got shit on this. Poor bastard can't remember the last time he had something so good invade his senses like this.
You said you had a treat for him, made him lay down, and promptly sat on his face, and Simon was fuckin' gone. Don't know what the fuck possessed him but he took one whiff and was instantly hooked.
Simon feasted on your cunt like a man starved. Tongue, lips, fingers, you name it. Anything to get his fix, anything to make you moan.
Anything to make you cum.
Didn't let up for shit, not even to breathe, and when you voiced your concern while whimpering and trembling, Simon didn't give a fuck and still continued to love on your pretty cunt because where the bloody fuck are you going?
Shut up. Shut the hell up and let him make you cum, sweetheart.
Actions have consequences. Shouldn't have made him feel so bloody good, shouldn't have poked at the beast, and he'd be damned if he didn't think this was the best post-deployment gift he's ever gotten. Better than the nicotine high or occasional pity wank.
Fuck, it's been so long and he's absolutely disgusting about it.
And Simon's aware of it all, the way his cock is so hard it's bloody painful and leaking in his pants, the way you're grinding on his face, smothering it and fucking his mouth (don't you dare stop, either), and how his everything is consumed by you. You coat his stubble, fill his nostrils up with your scent, his tastebuds are fired up—bloody hell, need he explain more?
Simon could die a happy man right now, and what would his gravestone say? Here Lies Simon Riley, Died Eating Cunt.
He'd chuckle if he wasn't too busy at the moment. Shit, he probably did if the way you're moaning is any indication. That felt good, didn't it, sweetheart?
It's your turn now to say his name like a prayer and believe in him just as he believes in you.
And it's the best fucking thing to ever bless his ears.
--
Turning Simon Out: Part I and Part II.
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beanarie · 3 days ago
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of course
in which the helicopter crashed with both our guys inside. inspired by this awesome post by @mooshkat
(tw: vomiting, heart issues, near death angst, biphobia mention)
~
Once the wave of agony subsides, and Tommy is reasonably sure he's done vomiting into the dirt, he blinks over at Evan appraisingly. "Is your arm broken or did your shoulder go out again?"
Evan grimaces and finishes tying off Tommy's splint. "Shoulder. And my hip's not feeling great. Cracked rib, maybe two. But of course you had to outdo me."
"Didn't do it on purpose." Tommy glares at the spot where his tibia poked through the skin, like he can intimidate the pain away. "Anyway you've got me on quantity."
"There's nothing else?"
"My head hurts," Tommy admits, "but there's not much we can do for that right now."
Evan leans in to compare his pupils. Tommy is very proud of himself for not flinching. "Dispatch had our location?" Evan asks, and instead of reminding him that he was there when they confirmed it, Tommy nods.
He knows he can't go to sleep, even if the leg would allow him. He finds a stick and starts tic tac toe. Evan chuckles and joins in.
He wins the next two games. Tommy blames his probable concussion.
Evan holds his bad arm tight around his midsection, but his eyes seem stormy for a different reason. "These people who hurt you in the past, what- what are their names?"
"Huh?" Tommy gives up on the game, scratching it out of the dirt. "You want a full list of legal names or just what I called them?"
"Was it Evan, for any of them?"
God, he's so transparent. Tommy laughs.
"Do you- do you judge everyone by who came before? Is that just what you do in a-all situations? One barista spilled coffee on you in 2011 and you pay for Starbucks with one of those grabby reacher things ever since?"
"Fuck's sake." Tommy doesn't even like Starbucks, but he doesn't say that.
Evan sort of shrugs before he remembers his shoulder with a wince. "It's not generally considered a sign of maturity. Ironic, I guess."
"Yeah, call me old. See where it gets you."
Evan brightens. "You're talking to me. I like my results so far."
There's something indefatigable about this man. Tommy can't help but surrender in the face of it, just a little. "How did you know I'd have to pinch hit for this fly along?"
"I didn't. I just hoped." His grin is just the slightest bit abashed. "Worst case scenario, get out of the engine for a day and I pump one of your coworkers for info."
"They have very little to pump," Tommy says. Evan and the codependent 118 are the aberration, and they're well aware of that. Tommy has great coworkers. They do their jobs and leave, with the exception of drinks once or twice a month. None of them gave him shit after the breakup. Few of them noticed. This is how most teams operate. Evan, however, looks surprised and a little sad. "What were you hoping to hear?"
"I don't know." Evan looks away, suddenly self conscious. "That you messed yourself up at least half as much as you did me."
Tommy rubs at his face. "I didn't mean to mess you up, Buck. Truly. We- It just ran its course. It doesn't reflect badly on you, or me. This just happens."
He looks upset at first, then calculating. "What if I hooked up with those Not-Evans?"
Tommy looks behind him, searching for something that makes sense. "What if you moved to the moon? I have no idea what you're getting at right now."
"Would I be experienced enough for you if I let them have a go? They were terrible for you, so it stands to reason they'll be terrible for me, too." He lifts a finger, his eyes lighting up in a way that turns Tommy's stomach. "Oh, I guess one or two of those might be women. They don't count. Some might be bi and married to women. Do they count as half? If I bag a threesome, is that like seventy-five percent? Do you give points for polyamory?"
Tommy feels about eighty years old, and not a fit eighty. "When did I say even one of those things?"
"The implications were pretty clear, Tommy. 'You're just young and excited. You don't know what you're feeling or how to interpret anything going on in front of you.'"
Tommy doesn't know what to say to that. It's not remotely what he meant, but he's never been good at communicating through panic.
"Did you love me?" Evan asks quietly. Tommy can't look him in the face. "It felt like you- like you did, but when you let me go like that, like chopping off the top bit of a carrot, it made me re- reevaluate everything I thought I knew about us."
The note of devastation in his voice almost tips him over, but ultimately what does it is the implication that Tommy made Evan lose faith in himself. He can't abide being responsible for that. "Of course I love you, Evan. How could I not?"
The tightness in his chest, that felt so much like raw emotion, intensifies, growing sharper. It's hard to breathe now, like sucking a milkshake through a coffee stirrer, and he realizes, something is very wrong. About as wrong as it could possibly be.
"Oh," he says. An attempt to inflate his lungs all the way makes his vision go sparkly at the edges.
"Tommy?"
Tommy drags his eyes up to meet Evan's. "S- Sorry, I-" I wouldn't have said any of those things if I knew. "Sorry. Evan." You deserve better than a fucking deathbed love confession.
A rough hand grasps his neck, slowing his descent to the ground. "No, hey. Hey hey hey. Tommy, we'll figure this out." Evan sniffles and tries to smile. His tears are falling everywhere. "You're okay. You're fine. Just keep- keep breathing."
The coffee stirrer is about a millimeter wide. Tommy can feel the muscles in his neck straining like he's deadlifting his own weight. Evan rips Tommy's shirt open and he swears floridly, miserably. They both know what this is; they've seen it in a hundred MVAs. Cardiac tamponade. When his heart gives out from the strain of all the blood surrounding it, chest compressions can be worse than useless. They could punch his ticket that much faster.
"Tommy," Evan says, pulling Tommy into his lap. The complaints from his splinted leg are distant, belonging to someone else entirely. Evan's voice is a ragged mess trying to piece itself together. His shoulder and ribs are probably killing him. "Don't run out again. You need to stay. Breathe."
Half a millimeter.
One quarter.
Tommy can't remember what comes after millimeter.
"That's it. I know it's hard, but keep trying. That's all I ask. Just try, okay? Look at me."
Micrometer? Is that it?
Evan's face is shadowed by the sun cresting over his shoulder. Tommy closes his eyes against the glare and is rewarded with a shake.
"Keep your eyes open. Stay with me. Just a little- little bit longer, please."
Fingers are running through his hair, lips are pressing against his forehead, and he thinks he can hear... sirens.
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alchemistc · 2 days ago
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Everything's so damn dark when the blindfold slips off that for a second she can't see a thing.
Don't panic. Don't scream. Don't hurt the baby.
Something groans at her feet and she startles straight into the pipe behind her head.
"'lo?" A voice asks, familiar enough to give her pause, and she wonders for a moment if this is a joke, if this is a trick, if this - "s'there?"
His words are slurred. A concussion, maybe, then. Great. Biggest man she knows and he's gonna be a useless pile of puke to her.
Don't panic, Maddie reminds herself, and then she starts giggling.
"Tommy?"
He groans an affirmative.
"Oh good. I feel a lot better about getting overpowered, now."
A hand grabs for her ankle and Maddie bites back a scream. It's Tommy's hand, big and warm and - fully unbound, which feels a little unfair. "Cunt drugged me," he says, then pauses. Squeezes her ankle. "Sorry for the language."
"No, it's, uh - I think it's warranted this time."
Maddie can't remember exactly how it'd happened to her. Had she been hit? Is she injured? She does a mental tally. Her lip feels swollen. Nose and eyes feel fine, though, so maybe she bit it? Neck, shoulders, all good. She's been bending her elbows and wrists just fine, she just doesn't have the leverage to do anything about the zip ties keeping her affixed to the probably pipe behind her. Hips, legs, knees. She wiggles her toes and in the darkness Tommy chuckles. "Everything accounted for?"
He must have done his own check while she was working through hers. She can hear him rustling around. "I'm still incredibly mad at you, but it's nice to hear your voice," she says, and Tommy goes still. "Tommy? All good?"
"...why are you mad at me?"
"Like you don't know?" Oh. Actually maybe she is more mad than she is glad. "You broke my brother's heart, idiot. I don't have any more room in my entire house for the coping mechanism he's come up with." She kicks, a little. Tommy grunts and shifts. "I hope that hit something painful and non-essential to our escape."
"He's - he'll be fine."
"What exactly is your definition of fine? Because it's been a few months and he's still bringing me baked goods on a bi-weekly basis."
"Bi-weekly like -."
"Do not get pedantic on me, Kinard. Two times a week. What's your status? Moving parts all still moving?"
"I think my balls have taken a vacation, but that's more a reflection on how terrifying you are than on this current situation."
Flippant. Sarcasm in the face of Maddie trying to get a full picture. Buck had called him funny and charming. Maddie's second kick doesn't land, but only because he's got a hand wrapped around her foot. "Once we're out of here, I'm gonna punch you in the face."
He hums. "For the balls comment, or the cunt thing?"
Maddie shrugs. Remembers that he can't see it. "Which part of 'broke my brother's heart' are you not getting?"
He sounds like he's moving gingerly. She can hear heavy bulky fabric rustle and she wonders if he's in three layers like usual. She could use something warm. "I - figured he'd be over it by now."
Maddie snorts. If she had to make a guess, Tommy glowers at the noise. "Dumbass."
And then it hits her. "The cunt? Skinny, brunette, pretty? Kind of...angular face?"
Tommy hums and takes her weight as she tries to kick again. "Sounds like her."
"Oh, Buck's gonna be pissed and embarrassed. She's rebound attempt number two."
Tommy's silent long enough that Maddie has to check in. He hums, and goes back to silence. "Rebound attempt?"
"If you hadn't noticed, we've actually been kidnapped, so maybe I can save your relationship afterwards?"
"I think she was trying to kill me," Tommy admits. "Otherwise why am I unbound in this shitty Saw knockoff?"
Maddie feels some extra pieces dropping into place. Oh, Buck is never gonna live this down actually.
"Can you overpower her if she comes in?"
"If she's not quick to try to drug me again. If I can figure out where the fucking door is. If -."
"A yes or no is fine. Pretty sure she's the Bay Butcher, if that helps you answer."
His pause is long. "...maybe," he says, and accepts the kick this time without block or protest.
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half-oz-eddie · 1 day ago
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Sorry I missed you (on purpose)
Buck knew Tommy's schedules and habits, and he knew exactly when Tommy wasn't home.
Tommy's schedule fluctuated from week to week, so how did Buck know this? Well, Buck started anti-stalking Tommy, which is...still stalking, but he was only doing it to avoid running into Tommy. It doesn't make sense. To you, to anybody, but it makes sense to Buck, and Buck's gonna Buck, right?
Tommy liked to keep the porch light on because he fed a neighborhood cat whenever he was home, and he wanted the cat to know it was safe to come on his porch and have a bite to eat. Tommy was just good like this.
It's so hard not to love him.
Monday. Porch light on. Tuesday. Porch light off. Wednesday. Porch light on, and the curtain was open. Buck's heart raced when he saw Tommy walk past the window. What was he doing? Was he alone? Buck didn't intend to stick around too long and find out, so he drove off.
Thursday. Porch light off. Perfect. Buck left a post-it note on Tommy's front door.
"Wanted to drop some things of yours, but you weren't home and I didn't want to leave them on the porch. Feel free to call or drop by anytime! -Buck"
There. Simple enough. Now Buck just had to get the hell out of there before Tommy returned.
Two days passed and Tommy hadn't called, texted or stopped by. Why?
Did the post it note blow away? Did the cat eat it? Maybe he should've reinforced the post-it with some tape or something.
Or maybe...Tommy didn't want to talk to him at all. Maybe he just hated him.
Buck carried that thought to bed.
The next day after Buck's shift, he returned home to find a post-it on his door.
"Sorry I missed you. I have some of your things as well. You can drop mine off and pick up yours this week. Or I can stop by. Your choice. -Tommy"
Buck read the note over and over again. He could hear Tommy's voice in his head with every syllable his eyes scanned on the note. It even had the lingering smell of Tommy's cologne.
Buck stuck it to his fridge.
He missed talking to him.
The next day after his shift, Buck drove past Tommy's house. Porch light on.
Buck kept driving.
The day after, Buck returned to Tommy's again. Porch light off. This was his moment.
"Sorry I missed you again. I just can't seem to remember your schedule. Stop by whenever you can."
He stuck the post-it to the door, but he was unsatisfied, so he pulled out a second post-it.
PS: hope you're taking care of that knee that was bothering you a few weeks ago. You never took that compression sleeve. Should I bring it? -Buck"
It was a little ridiculous, sure, but Buck was talking to Tommy again. Sort of, and it was great.
Buck stopped baking as often, and everyone at the firehouse thought he was making some sort of progress. He told them he was. He just didn't explain the sort of progress he was making.
When he returned home from his shift 3 days later, there were 3 post-its on his door and his eyes lit up with excitement.
"We've gotta stop (not) meeting like this. I can't seem to remember your schedule either. I'm sure we'll sort this out soon." Buck smiled as he grabbed the first post it, before reading the second.
"My knee's better, but I'd still like that compression sleeve. Do you think you could drop it off with my stuff? Or I'll pick it up." Buck smiled wider. He was glad to know Tommy's knee wasn't bothering him as much anymore, but he was happy to know he still wanted his help.
"Let me know what works for you. PS: Is that wrist still bothering you? I hope it's all healed up now. -Tommy"
Buck stuck the post-its to his fridge and smiled to himself. He was almost convinced they'd talked via post-its enough to talk via text, but he didn't feel like it was the right time yet.
He continued anti-stalking Tommy for days, waiting for the day his porch light wasn't on. It had been 4 days since the porch light was off.
Finally. He hoped Tommy wasn't too worried. Then again, he probably wasn't worried at all, Buck assumed.
"Sorry again. I just have a lot of things keeping me busy so I stop by whenever I get the chance. I'm going to try again until we get this right." Buck stuck the first note to the door.
"PS: my wrist is fine now, thanks for asking. I've been putting it to use a lot lately because I'm baking so much."
Buck stuck the second note to the door, but wanted to leave three post-its like Tommy did, just to seem equally as invested in this post-it tag.
"PPS: I almost tripped over the bowl by your front door. Are you still feeding that cat? -Buck"
Buck stuck the final note to the door feeling satisfied. He even laughed to himself when he realized he stuck them to the door in the shape of a heart with the first two on top, and the third beneath.
Tommy probably wouldn't even notice.
When a week passed and Buck hadn't seen a single post-it on his door, he was beginning to worry that Tommy grew tired of their game of tag.
The next day, there was one, single post-it on his door.
"I think maybe I should text you."
Buck's heart was beating out of his chest. Was Tommy going to text him finally?
When? What time? What day? Today? Please be today, Buck hoped.
Buck was back to checking his phone for the next few hours. He started baking again to pass the time so he'd stop obsessing over his phone.
When he heard his phone ding, he nearly jumped across the counter for it.
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Buck and Tommy continued to occasionally text for a week. Occasionally became frequently, and frequently became constantly, until they were talking again about any and everything that crossed their minds.
When Tommy addressed them finally meeting in person to exchange their belongings, Buck dreaded the thought. He was convinced that exchanging their belongings would end their text exchanges, so he blew Tommy off several times with various excuses about why he was too busy to meet.
Tommy was willing to wait and continue to text Buck, until one day, the texting turned into a phone call.
"Are you avoiding me on purpose?" Tommy asked.
"I-uh-no-I-I'm not. I'm not avoiding you. Not...intentionally." Buck stammered.
Tommy laughed on the other end of the phone. "Evan." There was that teasing voice Buck so dearly missed.
"Okay, okay. Maybe I am. I wasn't ready to do this face-to-face, in case this was going to be the last time we ever saw each other. So first, I dragged it out with the post-its..."
"I knew I saw your car that night! I thought maybe I was imagining it. Maybe...I dunno, wishful thinking."
Buck listened to the momentary silence and the soft sigh on the other end of the phone.
"The notes were cute, though. I...liked them. I suppose I was avoiding you too. Just to keep this going for a little bit longer."
"Really?" Buck smiled. "Y-you were? I didn't think you even wanted to talk to me anymore—"
"Are you kidding? Of course I do. I just...I know we broke up so suddenly. I...thought maybe we wouldn't work out. I guess it all felt too real and I...ran. I've done nothing but act cowardly since that night."
"I don't think you're a coward, Tommy. I didn't mean to scare you off. If you don't think I'm ready, I can promise you that you're wrong. Since the moment you left, I haven't stopped thinking about you. The baking was just to keep me from reaching out to you so I could give you space."
"I hate space. I hate avoiding you. I miss you, Evan. So much."
"I miss you too."
There was another silence while they each gathered their thoughts.
"Do you uh...do you still want your stuff back?" Buck worriedly asked.
"The only thing I left at your apartment that I want back is you."
Buck smiled so wide, his cheeks were aching. "You mean it?"
"Of course. When are you free?"
"For you? Whenever your porch light is on." Buck answered, getting a lighthearted laugh out of Tommy.
"Well...they're on right now."
"Yeah? I'll be right there."
Leave me kudos <3
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v6quewrlds · 18 hours ago
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can u write a fluffy clingy joe one shot?? maybe building legos or something!! i love ur work!! i hope u have a nice day!!🫶🏾
‎ ‎ ⁎⠀┉⠀author's note: here's a fluffy little palette cleanser <3
‎ ‎ ⁎⠀┉⠀word count: 0.9k.
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The scent of cinnamon wafted through the air as you stirred the pot of homemade hot chocolate on the stove. You glanced at the clock; it was already past six in the evening, and the darkness outside pressed against the windows like a heavy blanket.
"Joe," you began as you poured the steaming liquid into two oversized mugs, "I understand you're upset, but maybe you should take this week to recharge. Watch some movies, play some video games, do something that doesn't involve football."
Joe sighed, taking the mug from you with a nod of gratitude. "You're probably right," he admitted. "But it's hard to sit still when all I can think about is what we could be doing to fix things."
You kissed his forehead gently. "You can't control everything, Joey. Sometimes you just have to trust that things will pan out the way they're meant to." You leaned in for a quick peck, then stepped back to pick up your warm mug.
Joe sighed again, his eyes lingering on the TV that was muted in the living room, displaying highlights of the Cavs-Pelicans game. "Fine," he said finally.
You raised an eyebrow. "Fine?"
"Fine," Joe repeated, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips. "Can we build that Lego set we got last Christmas?"
Your eyes lit up. "Seriously?" You had been dying to tackle the intricate, sprawling Star Wars that had remained in its box since Joe's brother, Dan, gifted it for Christmas. "You know I've been waiting for this moment."
Joe nodded with a hint of excitement in his voice. "Yeah, I figured it's time we put it together." He followed you to the living room, where you cleared the coffee table with a dramatic flourish.
You sat down across from each other, the instructions sprawled out between you. You picked up the instructions, your eyes scanning the pages. "Okay, we're building the Death Star," you said with a smile. "Where do we start?"
Joe leaned over, his sarcasm in full swing. "I'm surprised you remember what it is. You're the one who said it looked like a giant space donut when we opened the box."
You playfully rolled your eyes. "Hey, I know my Star Wars!" you protested. "The 4,000-piece count kind of took me by surprise, though."
Joe chuckled, sifting through the pieces. "Alright, space donut expert, let's get to it."
Your eyes were glued to the instructions, the pieces scattered around the two of you like a colorful minefield. A soft laugh filled the room as you held up a tiny Lego stormtrooper, your thumb and forefinger framing it like a photograph. "Look at this little guy," you said, grinning. "He's so cute."
"Cute? He's a symbol of imperial tyranny, babe," Joe retorted with a chuckle, earning a playful shove from you. Despite his initial hesitation, Joe was fully invested in the project. His mind was clear of the team dynamics that had consumed him all week. The Legos demanded his focus, and he gave it willingly.
You took a sip of your now lukewarm cocoa and leaned in closer to examine Joe's progress. "Looks pretty impressive," you said.
Joe glanced up, his cheeks reddening slightly. "It's just Legos," he said, but you could hear the pride in his voice.
"No, it's not just Legos," you replied, setting your mug down. "I love it when you get all focused like this for something other than football. It's cute."
Joe rolled his eyes, but the corners of his mouth turned up in a smile. "Cute, huh?"
You nodded. "Yeah, like a big ol' teddy bear."
"Teddy bear?" Joe scoffed, but the playful teasing had lightened his mood. "I'll have you know I'm a very intimidating Lego architect."
You couldn't help but laugh at his defensive tone. "Oh, absolutely," you said, your voice dripping with sarcasm. "I'm quaking in my boots."
Joe smirked and tossed a Lego at you. It bounced off your arm and you feigned injury. "Careful there, Burrow," you said, your voice full of mock pain. "You wouldn't want to hurt the one who's keeping you fed and hydrated."
"Well, you're not helping much with the whole 'keeping me hydrated' part," Joe quipped, nodding towards his nearly empty mug. "I'll need more of that hot cocoa if I'm going to get through this."
You stood up with a smile. "Your wish is my command," you said, practically skipping back to the kitchen. As you brought the pot to a boil again, you watched Joe through the archway. The stress of the season had etched lines into his face, but as he worked on the Death Star, you could see them slowly smoothing out.
When you returned with the freshly filled mug, Joe took a grateful sip and leaned back, eyeing the progress. "You know," he said thoughtfully, "I've been so caught up in work that I forgot how much I enjoy just... doing nothing."
You sat back down on the floor, your mug now steaming in your hands. "It's important to have hobbies," you agreed, your voice gentle. "Things that make you happy outside of football."
Joe nodded, his eyes lingering on you for a moment before returning to the Legos. "You're right," he murmured, his voice a mix of acceptance and regret. "I just... I want to win so badly."
You leaned over to kiss him on the cheek. "I know you do," you said softly. "And you will. But you'll have to wait a week to do it. For now, just enjoy the quiet."
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carbondioxidewater · 2 days ago
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Make A Move (Pt. 5)
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footballplayer!Sukuna x fem!reader
genre: slow-burn romance, college au, fluff, angst
warnings: none so far
word: 3.1
(-> Pt. 1) (-> Pt. 2) (-> Pt. 3) (-> Pt. 4) (-> masterlist)
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On sunday morning, you woke up early, even though you hadn't been sleeping much. The events of the previous day came back to you one after the other. First, you thought about the game and Sukuna's impressive skills in it.
You reflected on the motorcycle ride with him and how he drove you to the Rainbow Bridge just so you could see the city at night. That must've been one of the most thoughtful things anyone has ever done for you. You turned over on your side in your bed, smiling.
And then you remembered how you almost kissed and how he treated you completely different later at the party than when you were alone. A feeling of embarrassment washed over you again at the thought that everyone present had noticed Sukuna not wanting to kiss you. Not that you were dying to feel his soft lips, probably salty from the sweat - no, that wasn't it. Because even if that were the case, it was more the fact of how and why he rejected you that was bothering you.
But asking him was out of the question. After all, you still had enough pride left to not give him that pleasure. After all, he wasn't obliged to kiss you. You shouldn't let anything show, otherwise he might get the wrong idea. And with that mentality, you went to your first lecture on Monday.
After the lecture, you entered the cafeteria. Today they cooked vegetarian pasta again and it always tasted delicious. You grabbed a plate, had it filled up, and walked over to the where the silverware was. As you were putting down your tray, someone spoke up directly from the side.
"I got your message, by the way."
You weren't startled this time.
"Did you know that people usually greet each other before starting a conversation?" you expressed calmly and Sukuna burst out laughing. You always managed to entertain him.
"Sorry, hi princess."
"Hi." you said quietly, a gloomy feeling at the nickname. "What message?"
"Yuji told me he should wish me 'good luck' from you."
"So?"
"Well, I certainly was lucky, after all you really came. But..." he didn't finish his sentence, obviously waiting for your reaction. Was he really trying to flirt with you again? This man was difficult.
You took your tray and moved towards one of the tables. Of course Sukuna followed you and sat down on the opposite chair. You sighed.
"But what, Sukuna? What do you want?" you asked in annoyance.
"You should give me your number. I couldn't even make sure you got home safe on Saturday." he flashed his shiny white teeth at you.
"Why do you care? I went home with my friends." you said, but not snippy, more in a neutral tone.
"I know that." he simply returned and didn't seem to have anything else to say. He just looked at you.
Seriously? He doesn't mention what happened at all? Well, if he can act like nothing happened, so can you.
"I don't like being watched while eating." you said bluntly and Sukuna couldn't help but smile.
"Why, are your table manners so terrible?" he countered. You puffed.
"Aren't you hungry?" you then asked, whereupon he told you that he had already eaten.
"I saw you and with you the opportunity."
"The opportunity for what?" you then questioned.
"Asking you for your number."
"You have my address already, that should be enough."
You would not let him get any closer to you.
He chuckled and you ate the first forkful of pasta.
"So you don't want to give it to me?" he carried on.
"Obviously not."
"Okay, I'll find a way. Oh, and enjoy your meal." he winked at you. And then he stood up and left the table.
Finally you could eat in peace.
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You didn't see him for the next few days, which gave you enough time to concentrate on your studies. It was thursday evening and you had to give in your assignment for neurolinguistics, the due date was today. You quickly finished explaining how the priming effect works, when suddenly Utahime entered your room with the mail in her hand.
"Oh, are you finished for today already?" you asked, referring to her job, to which she nodded.
"But look at this!" she said, astonished, and waved a letter in front of your face.
The letter was addressed to you, but had no sender. Strange.
You opened it and the content was a single sheet of paper with a few lines written on it.
"You're right, your address is enough. If you don't want to give me your number, I'll have to try this way ;)"
Your face immediately heated up, you never thought he would go out of his way like that. But what was he doing that for? What was his ulterior motive?
Utahime saw your shocked face and read the letter. Then she laughed.
"Wow, he's really trying. Have you eaten yet? Should we order something?"
And together, you ended the evening with a juicy pizza.
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But on the next day, you found a note in your locker too. You opened the folded paper and it said:
"Meet me under the bleachers"
Oh God, your heart was pounding. Just what was he thinking?
You decided to meet him at the stands to ask him to stop this whole thing. Even though you were really flattered by the attention, it still hurt your ego that he apparently thought he could win you over like that. Was it working? Maybe a little, but he didn't have to know that. And you definitely wouldn't fall for it any further.
When you finally got there, there was no sign of him. You asked the few players practicing on the field about him.
"Sukuna? No, he's not here. As far as I know he has a philosophy class right now."
Philosophy? You didn't even know that was his second subject. But that explained why he was around you so often, because philosophy and linguistics were taught in the same building. But why did he send you here then? Nothing he did made sense and you were slowly getting fed up with this chaos.
You were just on your way back into the building when all of a sudden, you bumped into someone's back on accident. He turned around and to your surprise, it was the menace himself.
"Careful." he laughed lightly. But you were a bit pissed at him right now and just walked past him. He walked after you.
"Hey, where are you going?" he yelled.
"I don't feel like playing your games. Find someone else to annoy." you said without even looking at him.
He grabbed your wrist and brought you to a stop. When you tried to escape his grip, he blocked you with his arm and caged you in.
"Calm down. What's going on with you?" Sukuna exclaimed.
"No, what's going on with you? Why do you leave those notes in my locker, arrange a meeting and then don't come?"
"That's what it is about?" He chuckled. "Now do you see how complicated it is? If I had your number, you would have known when I wrote the message."
You were flabbergasted, was that really his plan behind all this? To show you the need to exchange numbers?
"Or you can just write the time next time!" you spat out.
"Next time? So you like when I leave you letters?" he smirked and upset you with his presumptuous words.
"Don't twist my words..." you pouted and looked to the side. He let you go now, you had calmed down.
"Then what do you say: We have another game next Friday. If we win, I get your number, if we lose... well, you can choose."
"Why do you want my number so badly?" you probed.
"Because I like you. You're fun to be around."
This confession knocked you off balance, but you swallowed your speechlessness. In the end, two could play that game.
"Okay, if you lose, you'll never ask me for my number again." You smiled mischievously and he followed suit, tilting your chin upwards with his big hand before responding.
"It's settled then."
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You stayed at Shoko's for the weekend, since you wanted to binge-watch the new season of your series. Utahime didn't like the show and had to work anyway, so it was just the two of you tonight.
After a few episodes, however, it turned into a deep talk session. You told Shoko everything that had happened with Sukuna so far and she reprimanded you for getting into this 'pact'.
"His team will win either way, the only ones who would have a chance against them are the UOT." she explained and you thought about her words.
UOT? Of course! They say their quarterback is on par with Sukuna. They are the biggest rivals!
"Are they gonna play against each other too?" you wondered.
"I think not until the very end of the season. That's the most important game after all."
The end of the season... So in about 8 weeks. But wait a minute...
"How do you even know that?" you stared at Shoko in amazement and she looked up at the ceiling.
"A few of my high school friends are on this team. Utahime knows them too."
"What? Why am I only finding out about this now?" you shifted in your seat, grinning at her. She shrugged.
"I never thought it was important. After all, you haven't been interested in football until now."
You nodded. Then your phone rang. You took it from the coffee table and saw that it was Utahime, but before you could even pick up, she already hung up.
"Who was it?" Shoko interrupted and you told her, but you two didn't think much of it.
You thought that maybe she called you on accident, so you sent her a message asking "are you okay?" and checked her location. She was still at the hotel. A few minutes later, she finally replied and confirmed that everything was indeed alright.
"Okay she just replied, she's fine. But next time we're all together, you two have to tell me more about your mysterious old friends." You waggled your eyebrows and Shoko laughed.
"Yeah, yeah, even if there's not really much to tell."
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And then you were back in the stadium, this time, on your campus. It was a home game and the people on the stands were louder than at the last game, but this time you secured yourselves better seats. You were sitting in the front row now!
At the opening, all of the players walked onto the field and turned to the audience. Sukuna waved at the big crowd, his eyes moving from left to right, and finally rested his gaze on you, a small smirk spreading on his face. And then it was kickoff. As always, Sukuna's leading skills ensured a successful first half. It was clear that the team had been a unit for a long time, as well as they complemented each other.
After the first half, there was the usual break and you used it to quickly go use the bathroom. The line was long though, of course you weren't the only one who had to go after such a long time. But luckily, it quickly emptied and after you were done, the break was almost over. While the water was tingling on your hand, you heard a few girls coming in, chattering. You recognized the cheerleaders, one of them was the blonde girl named Manami.
"So, how are things going with Sukuna now?" asked Manami's friend.
At the mention of that name, you became very wary. You felt like you were eavesdropping, but you couldn't turn off your hearing sense after all.
"I think he likes me." Manami said the words dreamily, but you couldn't listen to their conversation any longer, because if you stayed at the sink for too long, you would attract their attention. You dried your hands and then went out the door.
What was their true relationship to each other? She thinks he likes her? What is he doing for her to think that? You had a weird gut feeling on your way back and when your friends noticed, they asked if you were okay. You lied to them and, thank goodness, that feeling disappeared as soon as the second half of the game started again.
And as Shoko predicted, your team won. The others weren't bad by any means, but Sukuna isn't feared in the world of football for nothing. He once again secured a great victory and after the game ended, his teammates all ran towards him to celebrate.
They picked him up and carried him to the front of the stands while you and the others clapped for their success. Many shouted his name, others shouted for the other players, but his grinning, smug look was only on you.
His comrades let him down and the crowd slowly started to leave the stands as Sukuna continued to keep you under his spell. He stepped on a bench in front of it, leaned his elbow on the railing of ​​the stands and pulled out a small piece of paper from his pocket. He pressed it between his fingers proudly and held it in front of his slightly tilted face, a mischievous smile on it, so that you could make out the numbers on the note.
You narrowed your eyes in an attempt to see more clearly and as the digits became visible, you recognized them as your phone number.
How did he-
You were about to ask him that, but Aoi intervened, jumping onto the bench and putting his arm over Sukuna's shoulder, happily dragging him into the locker room.
When you finally came down the stairs, you decided to wait for Sukuna outside. Your friends were talking about something you didn't pay attention to.
Then the door opened and you walked towards Sukuna expectantly, but he was stopped by Manami at that moment. You saw her putting her arm around his and how she walked to the parking lot with him. That made you abandon the whole plan and you went back home with your girls.
When you got there, you got a message from an unknown number.
unknown number: not even curious how I got your number?
That was definitely Sukuna. Your mood immediately worsened. You just couldn't figure him out. You threw your phone on the bed and made yourself something to eat. Cooking should calm you down, so you put on some music and started chopping. It took half an hour before you got the motivation to text him back.
you: aren't you out with the cheerleader right now?
You sent the message and threw your phone away from you again. Why had you been so direct? You were about to take your phone to delete the message, but Sukuna had already replied.
unknown number: oh you're curious about something else I see. u stalking me? ;)
you: no, I just saw you two together after the game. hope you had fun.
unknown number: yea sure had.
you: good for you.
Somehow the message came across as more bitter than you anticipated, and Sukuna also noticed the harsh tone.
unknown number: wait, you weren't seriously thinking I was after you, were you?
you: of course not? I was being genuine.
You were not. He typed.
unknown number: well then, that's good.
And then you left him on read. Asshole.
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The whole weekend was spent trying to figure Sukuna out, but as much as you tried, his motives remained unclear to you. You even started listing different possibilities together with Shoko and Utahime, but for every idea there was something in Sukuna's behaviour that didn't add up. You set up three theories:
REASON NUMBER ONE: He really just likes you platonically. But then why did he flirt with you sometimes, why did he almost kiss you, why did he put in such an effort into getting your number?
REASON NUMBER TWO: He was just trying to get into your pants. Maybe there was something going on with this girl, Manami, and he didn't want her to find out. But then why did he never make a move on you like that? Apart from the teasing, he's never been disrespectful or dirty towards you.
And, this was the most unlikely one, but,
REASON NUMBER THREE: He had a serious interest in you. But then, why wouldn't he just be straight forward? Why was this girl all over him at all times? And why didn't he do something against it? Or was he keeping the both of you as mere options?
Whatever it was, it was getting on your nerves. And you decided you wanted to make clear to him that the both of you should either be friends or nothing.
You were just taking a few things out of your locker when there was a sudden bang next to you. You took the last book out of it and then looked at the source.
"Boo." Sukuna called out, pressing his lower arm against the locker. He was wearing a simple white sweater with the sleeves rolled up, but it was so tight that it highlighted his broad, big chest. His hand was clenched into a fist, which meant that you had a perfect view of his flexing muscles as well.
You gulped and tried not to let on how attractive that was to you, because you couldn't afford to seem weak in front of him.
"Wow I'm so scared." you commented and closed your locker.
"I bet you are, now that I've got your number." he claimed. Then you faced him.
"Where did you get it from anyway?" you wondered. You still didn't have a single clue.
He smiled wickedly again.
"Why don't you ask your friend Utahime?"
Safe to say that's not what you expected coming out of his mouth.
"You're lying." you doubted.
"Why would I do that?" he replied with a foxy grin.
You took a deep breath.
"Alright, I'm gonna ask her later. But can we stop with the constant banter, it's giving me a headache."
"Oh, why's that?" he came closer, but you pushed him away again.
"It was fun in the beginning, but it's getting annoying now. Let's just be normal friends." you proposed.
"Friends?" Sukuna raised an eyebrow gently, considering your words and quirking a small smile. "You wanna befriend me?" he seemed oddly delighted about that. You didn't know if he was poking fun at you or not.
"Yeah, isn't that what you wanted?" you inquired, dumbfounded by his reaction.
"Yeah. Yeah, of course. Alright, let's be friends then." he stared down at you, a gleam in his eyes that you couldn't make out.
Yes, it would definitely be better to be friends. That way, he wouldn't constantly irritate you with his mixed signals.
And with that, your friendship with the star player began.
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RAHHH he's so confusing!!! Wdym you send me LETTERS to contact me?!?!?! And then say you're not after me? ARGHHH
What do you think his intentions are? As always, reblogs and comments are so so appreciated! I wanna hear your thoughts about it so bad! <3
taglist: @miakxn @aureliaborea @nonamevenus @silkija @sad-darksoul @joh-ahae @mysteriaqueen @rebirthbunbun @inflatabledinosaurs19
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fuctacles · 2 days ago
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<< eight | 😺 | ten >>
a little poll while you're here
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It's pure torture, sitting in a salon chair. Eddie briefly wonders how women can endure all this treatment and how many of them experience their first homoerotic thoughts under a hairdresser's touch.
The only time anyone is this hands-on with him is during sex, and even then it wildly depends on the partner. His body can't comprehend that it's not a bedroom setting, despite the intimacy of drawn curtains and soft music, and that it is not the time to pop a boner. 
Thankfully, Stephanie swiftly distracts him with questions about his interests, which always works on his nerdy brain. The fact that she's no longer massaging shampoo into his scalp also helps.
"I'm going to cut about this much, okay?" she asks after a moment of brushing and D&D talk, holding up the ends of his hair so he can see. 
"Sure. There's so much of it you can cut more," he jokes but Stephanie cocks her head, pursing her mouth.
Gods he wishes she'd stop making her lips look so kissable. 
"Don't you want to grow them out even more? I think it would look good."
She could also stop praising his hair and overall look.
"You think I could pull off ass-long elvish hair?" he smiles at her mirror reflection. 
"Hm..." She looks at him completely seriously, plays with the hair around his face, and traces the line of his cheeks with the tips of her nails. Whatever vision of him Steph is conjuring in her mind, she seems to like it. "I think yes. Absolutely," she decides, but Eddie doesn't remember what he has just asked.
"Only the ends, then?" she asks, backing away so he can release the breath he's been holding.
"Yeah. Just the ends." He tries to nod, but she swiftly taps her comb on the top of his head. 
"Don't move your head unless I say so," she scolds him with a played-up frown.
"Yes ma'am," he's quick to agree. It's her kingdom and all that. Also, she's maneuvering sharp objects around his head. 
"Good boy," Stephanie smiles again and one of these sharp object might as well have just pierced his heart. 
He knows he won't leave this ordeal unscathed. 
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"Could you dye just a streak of my hair? Some weird color, like red?"
Eddie can see her little smile in the mirror. It's a knowing smirk like she was anticipating that question, and this hint of condescension makes her look hot as Hell. 
"If you want red-red and not ginger-red, then I'd have to order the dye," she says, thoughtfully combing through his hair. Stephanie works fast, though, so he's pretty sure she should be done soon. There's another snip of her scissors before she straightens up to look at him properly. 
"As you can imagine, there aren't many adventurous metalheads in Hawkins to work on."
"I'll let you know that during longer breaks there are at least four."
Stephanie laughs.
"Your bandmates, right? But are they all as willing to experiment with their hair?" She raises her eyebrow, and she's suddenly up in his face. The counter behind her creaks under her weight and Eddie wonders how nice it would be to feel it on his lap.
"Well... Gareth's been growing it out," he offers. 
"If he has anything in mind, let me know," she smiles. "I should probably look more into what's new and hip among kids anyway."
"If you weren't holding scissors, I'd pinch you," Eddie scoffs. "New and hip among kids," he repeats under his breath. 
Stephanie rolls her eyes. 
"There's a big difference in hairstyles between Hawkins and Indianapolis though, you can't deny that." She straightens up again to wet her comb in the sink. "Close your eyes."
He does as he's told. 
"Would you want to be—" his breath catches embarrassingly when her damp fingers touch his chin to angle his head where she wants it. "—a hairdresser in a city like that?" he asks.
She hums in affirmation as she combs through his fringe. A stray droplet falls on his nose and she swipes it away with her finger. Eddie wants to lick it clean.
"I've been saving for a second salon, actually. The prices in the city are crazy though."
"Really?" Eddie raises his eyebrows since it's all he can do right now, considering there's a snip of scissors way too close to his eye. He thinks about having Stephanie up in Indianapolis with him. In the same city, that is, close enough to drop for a friendly visit. He could show her all his favorite places, too. 
She hums.
"Do you cut your fringe yourself?" she asks suddenly. 
Eddie sighs. 
"Does it show?"
"Not really," she chuckles. "You did a good job, honestly. It's slightly choppy, but it suits you, so I'm just gonna even it out and leave it like that."
"Oh. Thank you."
She hums again, snipping some hair by his left temple. 
"If I didn't like working with hair, staying here would be torture," she picks up their previous topic. "I got this place shortly before Robin had to move, and I felt stuck in Hawkins without her. But I'm making good money here so I figured I could save enough for a place over there." She combs his fringe again, snips once, and then he can hear a clank when she puts her tools away. 
"How much more do you need?" Eddie asks and then jumps when she touches his face again, dusting stray hair from his cheeks. 
"A bit," she says, but it sounds like more than that. "I was going to sell this place to add to it, but then Robin was talking about opening a chain, so now I'm training Joyce to take over here. Don't tell her though." She bops his nose suddenly, making him squeak. "It's kind of a surprise and I need time to figure it out. You can open your eyes."
Eddie blinks his eyes open and smiles as soon as he can see Stephanie again. But she moves aside, to reveal the mirror behind her. 
"I know it's not much, but is that okay?"
There's indeed not much of a difference, other than his hair being an inch or two shorter and his fringe laying a bit better against his skin. 
"Yes, I'm never cutting it by myself," he says, lightly brushing the hair framing his face with his fingers.
"I can totally do it for you whenever you visit," she agrees easily. "Now, do you want some color in your hair anyway? Because I could bleach that streak you want dyed later, but we would have to deal with the roots when you come back."
Eddie hums thoughtfully. 
"How light can you go? Can you give me like, a white Bride of Frankenstein streak?" 
Stephanie snorts at that. 
"I'm afraid not." She purses her lips, gently rubbing a lock of his damp hair between her fingers. "At least not with what I have on hand. Your hair isn't that thick but it's dark enough to be a challenge for bleaching. I may be good, but I'm not good enough to promise it wouldn't burn to a crisp." She smiles apologetically. 
"I'll wait for the red dye, then." Eddie shrugs. "No problem." 
"Okay. I'll grab the conditioner then, and we should be done soon." Stephanie pats his shoulder and he briefly considers asking her for something outlandish just to keep her working with his hair. 
my boyos:
@wheneverfeasible @steddieinthesun @hattsy-likes-pretty-stuff @bumblebeecuttlefishes @phantomcat94
@tartarusknight  @tinyplanet95 @steddiefication @estrellami-1 @disrespectedgoatman
@madigoround @tartarusknight @blasvemous @cryptid-system
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seitmai · 3 days ago
Text
As always many thoughts...
You laughed at his unexpected response as he ran his rough fingers along Rose's fuzzy hair. "Don't forget about the seafood platters." "Sweetheart, I'll never forget about the seafood platters," he promised, turning to look at you as his head sank back against the couch.
Of course he wouldn't 😅
"I am." His brown eyes remained fixed on yours. "I am. I told you I was. I want them close, but not too close. Like, I don't want them next door where they can hear me call you my filthy little slut or something." "Bradley," you said, laughing again as he took Rose in his hands to burp her. "They don't need to know the ins and outs of how you call me Daddy while you're gagging on my cock either." He kissed the baby on her forehead. "Sorry, Nugget. I'll teach you one day how babies are made, and you'll probably cringe the whole time."
Hahah this whole conversation cracked me up 😂
You couldn't believe how quickly he shut it down. "It was just an idea," you mumbled, watching him snuggle the baby. "So you wouldn't have to miss Rose the whole time while you're away."
Ok rude of Bradley, it was just a nice thought 🙄😒
You nodded and hummed, lips brushing the scars on his neck. "I'm just happy you remembered." "Sweetheart, I remember everything," he promised. "And I propose that we plan a trip for the three of us before the year is over. We can go anywhere you and the Nugget want."
🥰🥰🥰
"We'll be fast," he replied confidently, turning off the stove burner. "You're never fast! You like to linger!" "It's a new era, Baby Girl. The mom and dad era. I'll learn how to be quick so we can finish before she wakes up."
Haha I can't with him
"Oh, I love this so much," he whined as his other fingers found your clit. "I'm not happy about making this quick. I might need more later."
Of course he does 🤭
He could already hear Rose getting restless in the nursery down the hallway, her soft cries ramping up as Bradley slammed his cock into his wife. He wanted to make sure he got you off before he was done, but then you went and said something so hot, he knew he wasn't going to be able to hold on much longer. "I could always nurse you later if you want." "I take it you're interested in my offer." "Absolutely," he rasped, pulling his pants up so he could go say hi to his daughter. "If I ever say no to your tits, something is definitely wrong, Baby Girl. That would be your cue to take me out back and finish me off."
🤭🤭🤭
"When's the wedding?" you asked Jake as you dropped your tray next to his at lunch. He was eating the most delicious looking burger and a slice of pizza, and your soup and salad looked pitiful next to them. Seemingly no matter what you did, you'd stopped losing weight since the baby was born, and right now you were so exhausted, you couldn't even think about starting an exercise regimen.
Oh no, she is too hard on herself 🥺
"We've been engaged less than a month," Jake drawled, shoving some of the accompanying fries into his mouth. "Maybe some of us can wait a little longer to get hitched than your husband could, Angel."
Oh don't act like a saint Jake, we all know you wanna marry her sooner rather than later an if Cat had a buch of trauma and needs time because of that, they would have been married already 😅
Jake heaved a deep sigh, dragging a fry through ketchup. "He already calls me 'dad'. His speech was delayed, but it was still one of his first words, probably because I was around so much. I want to make sure Cat's ex doesn't get any rights, and if that means I need to hire another legal team before we get married, then so be it."
Dad Jake 🥹🥰
Maybe you could just get pizza. But you shouldn't. But it sounded so good as you watched Jake eat his. But your hips and belly were already so big, you couldn't let yourself.
Maybe maybe there is something else going on, hmm 🤭
"You look like a DILF."
He sure does 😌
"Be honest, how many of these do you think I'll need?" You snorted. "Unless every night is happy hour at the Copacabana, probably none. But knowing you, I'd pack at least two."
Hahaha this is so Bradley 😅
"This sucks," Bradley said for probably the hundredth time in the past hour. Standing at the curb at San Diego International Airport with a beautiful wife and a beautiful daughter, being forced to leave them for a week, was actually awful. He didn't want to go. He wanted to continue to cradle Rose against his chest with his arm wrapped around you until he missed his flight. "You need to go or you'll miss your flight. And then Mav will be on my case about it."
He just loves to be with his girls 🥰
Before he ducked inside, he cupped his free hand to his mouth and shouted, "I love you!" He watched you blow him a kiss and then pull away from the curb before he headed to the counter to drop off his bag.
🥰🥰🥰 
To his absolute delight, all he had to do was ask nicely and flash his most charming smile, and he was handed the keys to a brand new, black Bronco. It was a model year newer than your red one back at home, and he was excited to scrutinize all of the little differences as he drove it around for the week.
He is living his best life 😅
Was he really that guy? Did he already miss his kid enough that he had to open up the photo gallery in his phone and scroll through a few pictures before he could drive away?
Yes, he absolutely 100% is
"Lieutenant Commander Bradshaw," she said, eyes snapping back up to meet his. "All the way from Top Gun. I've been waiting to meet you for weeks, Sir."
Oh oh this feels like trouble 😬🫣
Aim for the Sky Part 27 | Rooster x Reader
Summary: Bradley is required to travel for a week, and both you and he are exhausted. He's hoping this will mean fewer deployments in the future, but in the present, he's going to need to remember where his responsibilities lie.
Warnings: Angst, adult language, lactation kink, body image, fluff, smut, DILF Roo
Length: 3900 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.
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Once again, your parents extended their stay to spend more time with Rose, but when they finally flew back to Maryland, it felt strange to be on your own with your daughter. You and Bradley fell into a regular routine once more, but it took him days before he came clean about being stressed out. When he got home late from work to find you on the couch feeding Rose, you could tell by the set of his shoulders that he'd had a long day.
"Can we talk about some things?" he asked, bending to untie his boots. You'd been wanting him to confide in you for days, but you were already exhausted again from the late night feedings and had pushed the comments Bradley made to Jake to the back burner.
"What's on your mind?" you asked, secretly pleased that he leaned down to give you a long, needy kiss, complete with his big hand on your neck, before kissing Rose as she ate. It had been a few days since you and he were intimate, and your body was already responding to him as he dropped down on the couch next to you.
"Can we just move to La Jolla? Nothing stresses me out when we have copious amounts of champagne and oral sex."
You laughed at his unexpected response as he ran his rough fingers along Rose's fuzzy hair. "Don't forget about the seafood platters."
"Sweetheart, I'll never forget about the seafood platters," he promised, turning to look at you as his head sank back against the couch. "Your mom and dad are serious about moving out here."
Your smile started to fade away. "Yeah, Roo. They are. And I thought you were pleased by that fact."
"I am." His brown eyes remained fixed on yours. "I am. I told you I was. I want them close, but not too close. Like, I don't want them next door where they can hear me call you my filthy little slut or something."
"Bradley," you said, laughing again as he took Rose in his hands to burp her.
"They don't need to know the ins and outs of how you call me Daddy while you're gagging on my cock either." He kissed the baby on her forehead. "Sorry, Nugget. I'll teach you one day how babies are made, and you'll probably cringe the whole time."
You sighed and reached for Bradley, cupping his jaw in your hand and stroking his mustache with your thumb. "My parents are seriously getting their house ready to sell. So just give it to me straight."
He nodded. "I don't want them over here all the time, okay? I love them, I really do, but they take over our house when they come. And even though we finished the attic so they could have a place to stay when they're here, Rosie can move her bedroom up there when she's older. So it wasn't a waste of time since the contractor saw your tits."
"It was a photo of my tits! I didn't just whip them out for him to see!" Now Bradley was laughing as you said, "It sounds like you're worried about having some boundaries if my parents become our new neighbors."
"Yes," he replied, nodding as you ran your fingers along his jaw. "That."
"I'm sure we can have a conversation with them and address all of your concerns." Rose seemed to be done burping, and you were treated to the view of Bradley cuddling your four month old against his chest. "Now, can you tell me what else made you have a bad day at work?"
"What makes you think I had a bad day?" he asked, placing soft kisses on Rose's cheek. "I could never have a bad day when I get to come home to my girls." You sighed as he ran his nose along her hair and inhaled deeply before he met your gaze. "Okay. It's not the end of the world, but Mav informed me that I need to take a trip to the Naval Airstation in Fort Worth. I don't really have any details yet."
"Okay," you replied softly, finally voicing what had been on your mind. "Well, maybe Rose and I can come with you for a few days? I can't remember exactly how much vacation time I have left, but it could be fun. And you did say the next trip should be for the three of us to enjoy together."
Bradley shrugged and immediately said, "Fort Worth in August? Baby Girl, it's going to be miserably hot. I know you, for some reason, miss the east coast humidity, but this is going to be gross. Ask Jake about it, he's from that ridiculous state."
You couldn't believe how quickly he shut it down. "It was just an idea," you mumbled, watching him snuggle the baby. "So you wouldn't have to miss Rose the whole time while you're away."
His head tipped back as he sighed. "I'm taking this new position so I can hopefully deploy less often and be here more later on. Even if I have to start working longer days, a week or two away from home is nothing compared to five months."
You bristled. "I understand that, Roo. We've talked about this so much. But maybe try to be a little bit more patient with the idea of my parents moving here so I can have a support system when you're busy?"
When you stood and rushed toward the bedroom, Bradley was right behind you, hand reaching out to grab your shoulder while he still held Rose tight. "Are you mad at me?"
Your stomach roiled with irritation, annoyance and disdain. You hated when you got like this, because he was the one who could bring out the best and also the worst in you. "I don't know."
-------------------------------
You were kind of quiet at home. Bradley hated it. You were a bit more vocal during sex, but that certainly didn't make him feel any better about the rest of it.
"I have my dates for Fort Worth," he informed you when he strolled in from work with some yellow flowers and a new book for Rose. Today was important to him. He wasn't sure you'd remember why, but he still wanted to acknowledge it.
"When?" you asked, continuing to make dinner while he looked around for the baby. "She's napping in her crib," you added, seemingly knowing he always wanted his daughter nearby.
"Second week of August," he replied. "So, pretty soon. But just for a week." You nodded as Bradley walked closer, and he realized what you were cooking. "Marry Me Rooster?"
"Yeah." Your voice was soft as you looked at him over your shoulder. You were also still wearing your khaki uniform, and he could tell you were tired. He was tired, too, but he wanted things to feel more natural around here again. He didn't want to accept that this was just how things would be now when the two of you were taking turns getting up with Rose all the time.
He wished he hadn't made such a fuss about your parents, because he really did love them, and it would be nice to have some help occasionally. And now he felt like you were continually annoyed with him, and he had to figure out a way to fix this.
Your voice broke into his thoughts. "It's kind of a special day?" 
You sounded unsure. Like you thought maybe he didn't remember. But a smile immediately found his lips, and he gestured to the flowers. He should have known you'd remember. You remembered everything. You just made him a seafood platter to celebrate Carole's birthday the other day.
"I proposed two years ago." You visibly relaxed at his words as you took the flowers in your hands. He stroked the diamond ring on your finger as he said, "I couldn't wait another minute after I found this in the storage unit. I needed you to wear it. I needed you to say yes." You melted into his arms, and he kissed your forehead. "Can I go ahead and propose something else right now?"
You nodded and hummed, lips brushing the scars on his neck. "I'm just happy you remembered."
"Sweetheart, I remember everything," he promised. "And I propose that we plan a trip for the three of us before the year is over. We can go anywhere you and the Nugget want."
Your eyes lit up as he cupped your perfect cheek in his hand. "I have so many ideas, Roo."
"I knew you would. Can I make another proposal?" When you raised one eyebrow, he whispered, "How about we mess around before Rose wakes up?"
He was already wrapping his arms around you, turning you toward the hallway when you said, "But what about dinner?"
"We'll be fast," he replied confidently, turning off the stove burner.
"You're never fast! You like to linger!"
"It's a new era, Baby Girl. The mom and dad era. I'll learn how to be quick so we can finish before she wakes up."
This was the closest thing to a true quickie Bradley had experienced in a long time. Maybe ever. You were pushed up against the wall just inside the bedroom, belt jingling with your pants down around your thighs. He was going hard at a nice, steady pace with his hand inside your bra. Your warm milk dripped between his fingers and along his palm as he whimpered. 
"Oh, I love this so much," he whined as his other fingers found your clit. "I'm not happy about making this quick. I might need more later."
He could already hear Rose getting restless in the nursery down the hallway, her soft cries ramping up as Bradley slammed his cock into his wife. He wanted to make sure he got you off before he was done, but then you went and said something so hot, he knew he wasn't going to be able to hold on much longer. 
"I could always nurse you later if you want."
When he came, his vision flooded with dizzying color. Bradley lapped your milk from his hand, moaning your name as his hips eventually slowed. Rose was wailing now as you bent down to pull your pants up, cum dripping down your inner thighs as you looked at him with a little grin.
"I take it you're interested in my offer."
"Absolutely," he rasped, pulling his pants up so he could go say hi to his daughter. "If I ever say no to your tits, something is definitely wrong, Baby Girl. That would be your cue to take me out back and finish me off." You laughed when he said, "Happy engagement anniversary. I'll go take care of the Nugget."
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"When's the wedding?" you asked Jake as you dropped your tray next to his at lunch. He was eating the most delicious looking burger and a slice of pizza, and your soup and salad looked pitiful next to them. Seemingly no matter what you did, you'd stopped losing weight since the baby was born, and right now you were so exhausted, you couldn't even think about starting an exercise regimen.
"We've been engaged less than a month," Jake drawled, shoving some of the accompanying fries into his mouth. "Maybe some of us can wait a little longer to get hitched than your husband could, Angel." You rolled your eyes dramatically at him, but you were fighting a smile. "I'm trying my best to make sure that everything is in order for Jeremiah, if I'm being honest."
"Like what?" you asked, blowing on a spoonful of your soup.
Jake heaved a deep sigh, dragging a fry through ketchup. "He already calls me 'dad'. His speech was delayed, but it was still one of his first words, probably because I was around so much. I want to make sure Cat's ex doesn't get any rights, and if that means I need to hire another legal team before we get married, then so be it."
Tears stung your eyes as you patted his cheek gently. You knew you were lucky that you and Bradley were together and that he would do anything to take care of his child, but right now you were just so happy for Jeremiah. "He's such a sweet kid, Jake. And you love him so much."
"I do," he replied before taking an enormous bite out of his burger. You let him chew in silence while you picked at your lunch. Right now, you really wished Bradley was here, but the chances of him showing up were slim when he was out shadowing Maverick again. He was leaving in a few days for Texas, and you were feeling pretty emotional. It would just be you and Rose at home for a whole week by yourselves.
"Well, if you're looking for a nice venue, I know a good parking lot."
Jake barked out a laugh. "There's too much sentimental Bradshaw bullshit in that parking lot. No way I'd be allowed to get married there."
Then Cat showed up, and Jake's attention immediately shifted to her. You poked your salad around on your plate, wondering why you were so damn tired. You still had four more hours of work to get through before you had to pick Rose up and make dinner. Maybe you could just get pizza. But you shouldn't. But it sounded so good as you watched Jake eat his. But your hips and belly were already so big, you couldn't let yourself.
Your afternoon was filled with checking code that someone in Annapolis had entered, and they'd done a really shitty job. When you left your office, your eyes were tired, and you could feel yourself caving. You ordered a pizza and picked it up on your way home with Rose. Then you ate half of it on the couch while you fed her. And when you were done, you really wanted to cry, because you didn't know why you couldn't control yourself right now.
"I'm starving," Bradley groaned when he walked in. "You got pizza?" he asked, shoving two slices stacked up on top of each other into his mouth and moaning. Then he dropped down onto the couch and polished them off while you switched Rose to your other side. "I need to remember to pack my dress blues for Fort Worth."
"Why?"
Bradley shrugged and reached for the next slice. "Apparently, there's some sort of reception for the aviators that are selected for Top Gun in the fall. I don't know how much sway I'll have, but I'm really hoping I can pick some good ones for the next generation of the program since I'm aging out."
"You're not aging out, Roo!" you gasped. "You chose a different career trajectory!" 
"I mean..."
"Stop. You're not old. Don't even try to tell me you're old."
"I'll be forty soon."
"You're thirty-eight."
"That's almost forty."
"You look like a DILF."
He reached for the last slice of pizza, folded it up and ate it while he reached for Rose. Like usual, she curled up on her father. Her features looked so much like his, but he was always the first one to argue with you about that, so you said nothing while he chewed up his food.
"I need you to help me pack for hot as hell Texas. I'm thinking just shorts besides my flight suits and uniforms?"
"I'll help you as soon as Rose goes to sleep for the night."
Bradley took the reins for the rest of the evening while you tried not to fall asleep before the baby. That was much easier said than done, but at least Bradley supervised tummy time while Tramp licked Rose, and then he gave her a bath. He read bedtime stories and changed her into pajamas so you didn't have to, gently setting her in her crib before joining you where you sat in bed yawning.
"You okay?" he asked, brushing his lips along your cheek before heading to the closet to start pulling out clothes to pack.
"Yeah. I just wish I didn't order the pizza, because it's empty calories, and it probably made me feel worse and more exhausted in the long run."
"But it was delicious," he muttered, piling up some of his favorite tropical print shirts. "Be honest, how many of these do you think I'll need?"
You snorted. "Unless every night is happy hour at the Copacabana, probably none. But knowing you, I'd pack at least two."
"See, you understand," he muttered with a smile as you chose two of your favorites and handed them to him. It was strange watching him load things into a duffle bag for something other than a deployment or special mission. You knew exactly how long he'd be gone. You knew it was just for a week and that he could FaceTime you and Rose whenever he wanted to, but it still felt like you were sending him away.
"We're going to miss you." 
He immediately tossed the bag onto the floor and joined you in bed. "Don't cry, Baby Girl," he whispered, swiping at tears you hadn't realized were already filling your eyes. "I'll barely be gone at all. And I don't even have to finish packing tonight. I can do it later."
You nodded and let him envelope you in his warmth. That's how you eventually fell asleep.
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"This sucks," Bradley said for probably the hundredth time in the past hour. Standing at the curb at San Diego International Airport with a beautiful wife and a beautiful daughter, being forced to leave them for a week, was actually awful. He didn't want to go. He wanted to continue to cradle Rose against his chest with his arm wrapped around you until he missed his flight.
"You have to go now so hopefully you can do this less frequently in the future," you whispered, voice shaky with emotion. You looked really tired, and Bradley knew you wouldn't get much of a break this week. That's why he'd arranged for Nat to check on you at home a few times whether you wanted her to or not.
"Count on it, Sweetheart," he murmured, placing kisses to Rosie's soft hair as her little fingers poked at the insignia pins on his uniform. "And I need you to be a perfect Nugget for Mommy. I'll call later tonight after I get settled in the barracks."
"Okay." Your voice was muffled as you buried your face against his neck. "I love you."
"I love you both," he promised, collecting his final kisses from Rose before buckling her into her car seat in the back of the red Bronco. Then he got a particularly filthy kiss from you that left both of you grinning before you started to shove him toward the airport entrance.
"You need to go or you'll miss your flight. And then Mav will be on my case about it."
Before he ducked inside, he cupped his free hand to his mouth and shouted, "I love you!" He watched you blow him a kiss and then pull away from the curb before he headed to the counter to drop off his bag. 
He hated traveling like this, in his uniform. It felt like everyone milling around, trying to check their bags, was looking at him. He was only wearing it today, because he wasn't sure what to expect when he arrived at a base he'd only visited one time years ago. The last thing he wanted was to seem unprepared in front of an admiral, so he wore his khakis as a precaution.
"Lieutenant Commander. Where are you headed?" asked the airline agent when she looked at his pins.
Impressed, he replied, "Dallas-Fort Worth."
She took his duffle, wished him a good flight, and then Bradley slept for the entire time he was in the air. Maybe you weren't the only one who was exhausted, because the nap seemed to do wonders for him. He woke up feeling rested, and just as soon as he sent a text letting you know he landed, he was off in search of a rental car.
To his absolute delight, all he had to do was ask nicely and flash his most charming smile, and he was handed the keys to a brand new, black Bronco. It was a model year newer than your red one back at home, and he was excited to scrutinize all of the little differences as he drove it around for the week.
"Don't like the lack of a car seat," he muttered, tossing his bag onto the backseat where he was so used to seeing Rose's infant carrier. 
Was he really that guy? Did he already miss his kid enough that he had to open up the photo gallery in his phone and scroll through a few pictures before he could drive away? Apparently he was, and it made him ache to be away from her. This was so much worse than going to La Jolla without his daughter, because right now, he had neither of you.
When his stomach started rumbling for dinner, he drove to the barracks and showed his identification, only to be told his room wasn't ready yet. So he went right back out to the Bronco in search of dinner. He knew the name of a tavern popular with officers in the area, so he typed it into his GPS and headed in the direction it told him. He had to laugh, figuring he was about to walk into the Lone Star version of the Hard Deck, but that's kind of what he wanted right now. Dinner somewhere that felt comfortable if not familiar.
"Oof." It looked like a dump compared to his bar at home, but it seemed popular, and he was hungry enough that it didn't matter. When he walked in, he took a quick survey of the space before grabbing an empty stool at the bar. He ordered your favorite beer and a sandwich and took his phone out, careful not to set it on the bar in case the owner was part of some sort of association along with Penny.
He tried reading an article, but he felt as though he was being watched. Bradley tried to ignore it, fairly certain he didn't know anyone on base here, but the feeling nagged at him while he ate. The twang of music playing on the jukebox was distracting, but not distracting enough. When he finished his food and wiped his mouth with a napkin, he picked up his bottle and drained the rest of his beer while he glanced around. 
Then he saw a young woman in a flight suit playing pool not too far from his spot at the bar. Her bright blue eyes were focused on his face, and her lips curled into a grin before she bent to sink her shot. Her patches told him she originated from Virginia Beach like he did, and that her call sign was Indigo. As Bradley turned, ready to sign his bill and leave, he saw her approach out of the corner of his eye.
"Can I help you?" he asked, turning her way again with one eyebrow raised. She was attractive, even up close, and he remained silent while her gaze traveled from his face down to his chest where his name tag was displayed. Then she gasped in delight.
"Lieutenant Commander Bradshaw," she said, eyes snapping back up to meet his. "All the way from Top Gun. I've been waiting to meet you for weeks, Sir."
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Well, I hope BG is having a nice time at home without her husband. Thanks @beyondthesefourwalls
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soft-pine · 2 days ago
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1.18 something wicked
say your desk is covered with a pile of paperclips. something wicked is the magnet you drop in the middle and then they all stick to it; they're all connected.
it's all here. the parentification, the neglect, the way john treats dean which sam doesn't witness, the extreme likelihood that john was using his kids as bait, and the intentional, specific, glorious, lovely ways dean has specifically chosen not to be like his dad.
in the flashbacks, we see dean is in charge of feeding and looking after sam for (at least) three days in some random motel room with the shades drawn. he's not even supposed to go outside. he doesn't have a number for john, just the instruction that if john's not back by a certain time, he's supposed to call pastor jim.
we see john giving dean instructions and responsibility (and criticisms) which he's not giving to sam.
dean is at most 11 years old (ep takes place in 2006. dean says the case from when he was a kid was 16-17 years ago (1989/1990). john's journal places it in 1988; dean was 9)
crucially, even as an adult, dean barely talks to sam about what he remembers of the case when he was a kid. he lets go of little bits at a time and absolutely necessary to the case. but he does not want to process what happened. even when he's so torn up that he breaks down and explains what happened, he doesn't want to talk about it. in part, of course, because he's ashamed of failing to kill the shtriga. but also because dean keeps john's secrets (9.07). and even when he doesn't, sam is not who he tends to process with.
but it's deeply impactful to have an episode where we get to see how dean was treated as a child versus how he treats the kids he meets.
dean is so kind to children throughout season 1, from lucas in 1.03 to lily and charlie in 1.05 to michael here. there is something so great about the way he is both clear that the bad things aren't these kid's fault, while also understanding kids have agency and insight.
i know dean is torn up about using michael as bait for the shtriga but feels he doesn't have much of a choice in order to stop the thing. but the conversation he has with michael is so thorough it really gets me.
DEAN: This camera has night vision on it so we'll be able to see clear as day.... Are we good? SAM: A hair to the right... There, there. MICHAEL: What do I do? DEAN: Just stay under the covers. MICHAEL: And if it shows up? DEAN: We'll be right in the next room. We're gonna come in with guns. So, as soon as we do you roll off this bed and you crawl under it. MICHAEL: What if you shoot me? DEAN: We won't shoot you. We're good shots. We're not going to fire until you're clear ok? Have you heard a gunshot before? MICHAEL: Like in the movies? DEAN: It's gonna be a lot louder than in the movies. So I want you to stay under the bed, cover your ears, do not come out until we say so. You understand? DEAN: Michael, you sure you wanna do this? DEAN: You don't have to, it's ok, I won't be mad. MICHAEL: No I'm ok. Just don't shoot me. DEAN: We're not going to let anything happen to you. I promise.
what a specific contrast that is with
DEAN hesitates, terrified. As he does JOHN bursts through the front door, gun raised. JOHN: (Shouting) Get out of the way! DEAN ducks and JOHN shoots the shtriga multiple times with his hand gun.
something wicked is up there with monster at the end of the book for episode titles that'll make you crazy if you think about it too much.
some other thoughts are just, the first time i watched this scene i thought i was going to explode with love:
DEAN: Yeah well, first of all, I'm not going to open fire in a freakin' pediatrics ward.... Second, wouldn't have done any good, because the bastard's bullet proof unless he's chowing down on something. And third, I wasn't packing, which is probably a really good thing cause I probably would have just burned a clip in him on principle alone.
moral compass boy i would die for you a thousand times and get up and gladly do it again.
and nothing - i mean nothing - hits like dean's voice cracking over the "if it means anything sometimes i do too." like i could actually go insane.
also watching supernatural is how you fill up a computer disc with pictures of dean looking ever so beautiful. like. look at him!! ethereal!!
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also also ilu microaggression michael. they should have brought you back in the finale, king.
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red-doll-face · 3 days ago
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ex boyfriend low honor arthur who cant get over you. 😔
low honor Arthur Morgan x fem. reader. warnings: nsfw, lh arthur and his breeding kink, mentions of pregnancy, baby trapping...
Let's say Arthur is independent of the gang for whatever reason. Maybe you dated him while he was in the gang but you broke things off. He most likely prioritized the gang at some point about something really important to you or said something that took it too far too many times. You tell him you’re done. And he gets this really hard look in his eyes. He asks you if you're joking, cause it ain’t funny, in this voice that's like ice. You shake your head, showing your small bag of belongings, separated from all of his things. Puts his hands on his hips and sniffs. He’s devastated but he just nods. Arthur doesn't want you to see how much he's gutted. Deep down he wants to beg for another chance but he’s also arrogant enough to think you'll come crawling back. Regrets when his last words to you are ‘get out of my sight’ and your last words to him are ‘sorry, Arthur’. 
And of course you never do come crawling back. 
Then things with the gang fall apart and Arthur is probably the lowest he's ever been. He's never stopped thinking about you either. He can pretend he doesn't care but he's such a suckered for you. Never stopped loving you. Arthur is even worse than he was with Mary. Every single thing you left behind is venerated and he keeps them in this delicate little box. A ribbon from your hair, some jewelry he gave you, a hand mirror. Anything you gave to him he keeps close to his heart, a photograph of you two is always in his breast pocket. Any clothes you leave behind are definitely sniffed deeply while he jacks off, sorry he’s gross and shameless.
He's keeping himself alive doing bounty hunting work here and there. Drinking, trying to forget and getting in all kinds of bar fights, barely keeping himself out of jail. And he catches sight of you. You're working as a store keeper, sweeping the front of the shop in another nameless town somewhere in California. 
He just watches for a while in disbelief. He hopes you aren't married. Otherwise he'd probably kill the poor man. It's so hard to hold himself back and not just rush over there and pick up where you left off. All of this time, imagining you as the love of his life he let pass him by. You're just as beautiful as he remembers you too. And he is immediately right back to remembering all of your best moments together. Those delicate conversations you shared alone at the campfire after everyone had gone to sleep. Kissing you when no one was watching. The way you called his name the first time he made you cum for him. And he's going over there. You see him and at first you don't recognize him but then again you’d know that black hat anywhere. 
The way things left off, you're not sure what he's going to say. He looks like he can't believe what he's seeing. He just whispers your name and you nod. You hesitate to ask him how he's been, he doesn't look like he's doing so hot. You spend a while talking to him about what happened with the gang, you update him about the nice old man that took you in after you left. How lucky you had been. And fortunately for him, no new man.
Arthur one hundred percent believes that this is God's way of saying you two are meant to be together. He's convinced this is his second chance. He thinks whatever you both had is still there and can be rekindled whether that's true or not. He tries to not lay it on too thick but he can't help himself. He uses every pet name he's ever called you like you both never broke up. If you ask him about it, he says it's a force of habit, sweetheart... but he is lying. It's been so long, calm down. He loves to touch you, he tucks your hair behind your ear, puts his hand on your waist, helps you whenever he can up some steps or onto a horse. Cannot stop looking at your body and you can definitely catch him peeking at your cleavage. Acts like it's totally normal. 
And he knows how much you used to like him, used to like the way he bowed over you to kiss you, feel him press up against you, look at the muscles in his arms. Knows exactly what kind of things you liked to see him, those tight pants and the shirt where his chest looks like it's about to rip the seams. He uses everything to his advantage. He loves to show off everything you loved about him when you were together. His strength, his providing nature, his ability to be sweet and vulnerable in those small moments. Arthur has a dirty mouth too, whispering about how much he’s missed you, what he’d do just to get your sweet little pussy cat wrapped around his cock again. All with that lurid smirk on his face and his pretty blue eyes focused right on you. He is a menace and a fiend. 
Whether he tries to apologize or change is up in the air. If you make it a requirement, he will think about it. Because he really does want you back but there is a reason you left his ass in the dust. He's so desperate for it, he may just apologize for what he said to you and admit that what he did was wrong. He is very prideful but he can put it aside for you. He is not happy about it but it's probably a big part of why you may choose to take him back. Especially the quiet 'never quit lovin' you, honey'.
If you take him back he is already prepared to slip a ring on your finger. The make up sex is crazy, he puts his whole back into blowing yours out, eats you out until his jaw is sore. He's not letting you regret taking him back. He’s not stopping until you beg him to. He’ll show you why he was your man in the first place and why he should stay that way. The entire time he's telling you how much he missed this and how he ain't losing it again. He is most definitely looking to knock you up here too, pushing as deep as he can.
Even better if you're into his 'giving you a baby' talk. Arthur is fucking you full of his cum every night, telling you how gorgeous and precious you’d look round with his babe. In his head, once you have his baby, you're locked in for life. This second chance with you, he might deserve it, he might not. He won't question it too much. All he knows is he finally has exactly what he wanted. You with a ring on your finger, calling him your man with his baby on your hip. 
sorry these are a bit long 😳 thanks for the support as always! I spent so long on these trying to get them just right but im happy with how they came out !!!
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ssentimentals · 2 days ago
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okay ik i said it would be the last in my last request but i have two more in my mind so bare with me.... prompt 21 and 17 from the soft prompts with Charles Leclerc!! it just struck to me yk him making his own ice cream brand and all i feel like this will be superb
no pls i love your requests :(( and this is one is so thoughtful!! 💜 hopefully you will like it!
fluff prompt: 'you can call me whever you want, even if you don't have a reason to.' 'between ice cream and you, you might be my favorite.'
you knew that charles was on a shooting for his LEC ice cream, you knew. and it's an important thing, something he always wanted and you knew better than to distract him from the work... but. but you two haven't seen each other in almost two weeks and you just missed your boyfriend too much: clothes he left don't smell like him anymore, his text messages are not enough and you miss him, his presence, his voice, everything. there surely must be some breaks during the shooting, right? what if you get lucky and call right in the middle of one? biting your lower lip, you spend few minutes thinking this over until you finally give in, pressing call and holding your breath till a very familiar voice doesn't answer with: 'yes, my love?'
'charles,' you breathe out and it comes out whiny without you meaning it to.
'what's wrong?' charles immediately asks, urgency clear in his voice. he can't see your face and this whine did not sound like your usual cute-and-bratty whine. this one sounded more like i-am-sad whine and it gets him worried: 'are you okay, amour?'
you shake your head before remembering that he can't see you; with a sigh, you quickly respond to soothe his nerves: 'nothing-nothing. i'm sorry for calling!'
something rustles in the background and then there's a sound of door opening and closing. this time when charles speaks to you, he sounds much closer and louder: 'why are you sorry? you can call me whenever you want, even if you don't have a reason to. but everything is okay, yes?'
'yes, it is. sorry, babe, i just missed you and wanted to call,' you confess, pouting even if he can't see. 'i thought i'd get lucky and catch you during the break.'
'you are lucky, cause it's exactly break time,' charles says, smiling. it's a lie - you called right in the middle of the photoshoot and he asked everyone to wait but what you don't know can't hurt you.
'then just few minutes with me and you can go back to your favorite ice cream,' you decide, smiling. 'how is it going so far?'
charles smiles, leaning on the wall. your cuteness will one day be the death of him, but today is not that day. it warms his heart that you are this open about your feelings and can just call when you miss him - he should learn a thing or two from you in that regard. 'between ice cream and you, you might be my favorite,' he confesses to you secretly, smiling when he hears your laughter.
'sweet talker,' you accuse with fondness. 'you probably have to go, yeah? go, i don't want to keep everyone waiting. have fun, babe! i can't wait to see it all!'
'and here i thought you can't wait to see me,' charles teases. 'i'll be back home soon, okay? don't start dinner without me.'
'bring ice cream!' you shout and charles laughs, going back to the studio.
'only ice cream?'
'bring yourself too,' you mutter with a small smile. 'i love you.'
'i love you too, amour.' charles whispers back. 'see you soon.'
a/n: request your own here! <3 - nini
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icarusredwings · 2 days ago
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Thinking about old Worst Wolverine being called by each of the X men individually after they have a falling out because Logan injured a child very badly to the point the only reason they didn't die is because another classmates healing abilities all while he just... walked away.
Well- ran.. away... leaving a child to die. He's tried to explain thousands of times that he blacked out, that he didn't remember doing any of this. He tries to say that maybe it was someone else, that mystique did this shit all the time in his universe.
"Yeah, well!? This isn't your universe! Because the REAL Logan would never do this.." Scott screams at him as Logan leaves the Mansion for the last time. He doesn't come back. He didn't even get to tell his Xkits goodbye. It got to the point where Laura dropped out, taking Gabby with her, wanting nothing to do with the school anymore.
So now, here he is. In Maine, an old fisherman, part-time hunter, and the only people he lets around him have healing factors.
He lives with Wade, who still- by the way- doesn't have any grey hairs (maybe because hes bald but- yk)
One night, while Logan is out, making himself feel useful by feeding the small town they're in, providing for more poor families, feeding their children's hungry mouths and asking nothing in return but respect. (It gets to the point that the children cheer when they see Logan, wanting to hug him, but he growls at them to get off, too afraid of hurting them) Wade finally awnsers the ringing phone.
"What." There's vemon in his tone, but soon his eyes widden, and he frowns.
Walking outside he stands there a moment, knowing Logan can hear him.
He ignores him, looking at the fish, litsening, his breathing slowing as he skewers some with his claws. Its not exactly spear fishing but- close.
"What?" His voice is almost annoyed, as if knowing what his long time Husband was about to ask him.
"Logan.."
"No."
"Logan-"
He shakes his head. "Don't care."
"...She's missing."
He pauses, turning after scraping the dead fish into a bucket. "Who's missing?"
"There's a little girl missing."
"So?"
"Logan!"
"I'm not helping them, Wade. That's final." He growls.
For a moment, Wade frowns, but he didn't learn to obey thy husband like the bible said.
He never did.
"Logan, there's a 6 year old out there. All alone. Cold. Probably going to be eaten by wolves!" He shouts from the back porch, knowing his place enough to stay here and not come near his fish. Even after all these years, Logan was still finicky over his food. "And all because some old fart won't help her!"
The silence thickened as Logan thought about it, the hero side of his brain yelling 'We'll find her!' And the hurt old part of him saying 'That's not my buisness.'
".. You find her then." He compromises.
"I can't! And if anyone knows those Canadian woods, it's you! You said you knew those forests like the back of your hand!" Wade protests. "If I could smell someone through miles of freezing snow, I would. But I can't. So here I am, asking The Wolverine to go do what he does best."
He grunts, glaring. "And that is?"
"Helping a little girl get back to her mommy..." Wade says, knowing that he was sold. He knew he was sold the moment he told him to do it himself. "She doesn't have much time, Logan." He sighs, putting a cherry on top.
The greyed man huffed, grumbling under his breath for a moment. "Who will stay here with the dog?"
"Gabby can! She loves gabs." Gott'em.
"What about Laura? Why can't she find her?"
Shit.
"Logan, Laura has barley been in those woods. You've lived in them for years. So. What will it be. Pull up your panties and go save a little girls life? Or do it anyway when our baby girl gets lost too?"
Logan scoffs, disappointed. "..She wouldn't get lost.."
"She would if the scent kept being blown away.."
Wade adds, seeing the 'god damn it, he's right.' look on the old mans brow.
He lets out a large sigh. "...I don't want any help."
"Oh well too fucking bad bucko, I'm gonna go pack my snow suit!"
"No! I mean... I don’t want any help from THEM.."
"No promises. I'm not letting poor Susie die just because you have a grudge. Now put your fish in the freezer and lets go! They're coming to pick us up-"
"I ain't flying!!" Logan snarls, watching as his lover ran off, having a deep feeling that he would be in the air shortly..
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aithusarosekiller · 2 days ago
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As much as I adore reading about Regulus being devastated and betrayed after Sirius left because it makes for a better, more engaging plot, I do like the idea of it being less mopey and more random momentary flashes of sadness or disappointment
For the most part he's fine, he doesn't think about it and he doesn't take it personally. He knows it wasn't about him, he knows that Sirius just didn't like the family in general and he just happens to be part of it. It's his choice, Regulus doesn't give a fuck. So he manages to get on with his life without being too bothered by it, sometimes he even likes the fact he's the centre of attention and doesn't need to compete for it.
But every so often he gets a little glimmer of what he's missing. Someone will say something at a dinner party that could be taken in an inappropriate way and he turns to his side to share a quiet smirk with Sirius only to be met with bellatrix staring blankly at the wall on the other side of the room. He'll think of a funny joke or memory and get all the way to Sirius' room to tell him before remembering nobody is there. He'll get bored and have to resort to trying to chat with his parents or Kreacher, who are much too proper to appreciate the mind of a teenager. He wants to go out to the part of London Sirius always took him to on dull weekends but he doesn't want to go on his own so he just doesn't leave the house.
He's convinced he's fine but there's always a really small, low level of disappointment lingering in his stomach. When they're at school it's slightly different, he sees him in corridors and remembers how fucking ANNOYING he was, telling himself he's glad to be rid of him. But every so often he still gets the urge to go up to him just to tell him about something stupid Lucius did at the ball last week and backs out last minute, telling himself it's not worth it and he'll probably just get annoyed at him anyway.
I think Sirius had a bit of a harder time convincing himself he didn't care because maybe he did hate the entire family and think they were insufferable but he'd always felt the need to redirect Regulus before it was too late, like Andromeda had always done with him and tried to do with Narcissa. So while he knows that it's not his responsibility and he did nothing wrong, there's always that bit of doubt lingering at the thought he didn't try enough. But he sees that he's doing fine and decides it's not worth it.
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sk3tch404 · 1 day ago
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Yandere Weeping Clown Thoughts!!
CW: Nothing too bad, just your usual creeper, manipulation, and analysis(?) on his character. Tbh hes so yandere coded that everything blurs together atp (and I'm using "yandere coded" sort of loosely bc that makes me sound like a yandere enabler or smth, which like, lol no but in fiction yeah funne). Called him Joker bc it was easier to use/remember than Weepy, and also bc they called them that in all the lore drop so 🤷‍♀️
A/n: Just saw the new Hullabaloo lore drop and IDV has taken me back into its clutches. He is so yandere material 🫶 Proof read enough to go "that's postable."
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Joker is quite sensitive to his darlings perception of him. He always tries to do the right thing, tries to please you so that when you smile at him, that strangely unfamiliar warmth spreads through his chest. A smile tugging on the corners of his mouth, stringing his lips up as if he were a puppet. And a puppet of your design he shall be if you wished it so.
Joker is definitely a worshipping sort of yandere. He'll do most of anything for his darling if it made them just a teeny bit closer. Any progress is better than no progress. Even if it means visiting you in the dead of night to "check on you," or often "bumping into you" in places that you frequent at the manor. He'll stop bothering you if you reject his advances, but he'll come back around sooner or later. Joker doesn't want you to hate him, but he also doesn't want to be away from you! Although you may say some hurtful things like, "It's making me uncomfortable, sorry," or, "Can you leave me alone for a while," he knows deep down that if he teeters around the boundaries you set for long enough, he can wiggle his way through and to your heart. At least, that's what he hopes.
Despite his subservient nature to his darling, Joker isn't so obedient around others. He has his more introverted traits for sure, but his sensitivity to anger is fragile, especially when it comes to you. Joker doesn't have many qualms about taking a stand for you or himself if it came to it. He wants to be your protector, so he isn't very afraid to say something if he feels the need to. It can become quite the scene if the other party doesn't back down, making either you or someone else the mediator of the debacle. It's exhausting to have to manage your persistent follower, but it's better to handle a situation rather than let it spiral out of control, leaving the consequences of his mental break to you.
With his fragility also comes his keen eye for any chances to take advantage of a situation. Joker isn't very intimidating physically or feared for being calculating, but he is usually dismissed, and that makes for perfect cover if he plays his cards right. Framing people for his crimes can be a walk in the park depending on the situation, and manipulating those weaker than him isn't something he wholeheartedly takes pride in, but if it's for you, if it's for you, the singular most important person and one he adores most in his rotten life, then he's happy to oblige. If it wins you over in the end, then that's all that matters, right?
Joker will try to convince his darling to stay by his side and will get more desperate depending on the circumstances. He's not a kidnapper type, more of an idealist. Not to confuse that with delusional though. Joker knows full well how you probably feel about your strained relationship, but if he doesn't try now, he'll never get to be with you, and that's unacceptable. He wants to live a romantic and sweet life with you day in and day out, so he'd hate to see you miserable and locked up. If he can't love you the way he wants to, then what would be the point?
Even with that, Joker isn't above guilt tripping or petty manipulation tactics like that. He really can be unpredictable at times and can become very dangerous if his darling constantly shows no interest. Although he is a romantic idealist in his mind with you, he's also the type to slip into the "if I can't have you, no one can" mentality. He might just end up hurting his darling, but it won't be anything too drastic by the time it happens. Joker would feel terrible, terrified, and utterly disgusted with himself after seeing your petrified state. He'd drop to his knees and attempt to mutter consoling words, somewhat even begging for your forgiveness.
"Y- Y/n, no, oh no, no... Y/n, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, please. Don't cry, I didn't mean to. I truly am sorry. I had just- I wasn't thinking straight. I would never hurt you. If only you hadn't done this, then... No, just come back to me Y/n."
He is still quite demanding even while apologizing, which would make your fear even greater. Joker doesn't want to force his darling's hand, but if it really came down to it, he'd give his darling a grade A verbally manipulative beat down. He'll use anything and everything against you so that all else but him looks ugly in that moment. Sure being at the receiving end of his unstable anger was horrifying, but be honest with yourself, were it not for him who has saved you countless times in both matches and inside the manor, you would be long dead by now. Anything is on the table, anything just so you will come back to him once more. He has little to no guilt in it, just the fear that he will seriously break if you're still in a right state of mind. So, in turn, he'll unfortunately have to break you first.
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burningcheese-merchant · 3 days ago
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Y'know how Cacao has a son, you remember dark Choco right? Y'know how Vanilla got custard the II right? And then there's holly with royalberry and Golden Cheese with fettuccine and White Lily with.... Gigngerbrav-
What the beasts think?
Could be yandere, could be their already a thing, some other stuff idgf i must hear your words on this
Been wanting to try to answer this one since I saw it haha. Let's go both routes I've got for these bozos, Reformed Beasts and Yandere Beasts
Reformed Shadow Milk: I want to imagine that, once upon a time, Shadow was an actual people person and was genuinely fond of children. After he reforms, he regains that old fondness, and it extends to Custard III (perhaps more than all other kids, just because he's close to Vanilla). Such a cute, silly boy, with his silly crown and his silly dreams (not that he wants the kid to feel bad for wanting to be a king, it's just... Kid doesn't seem to understand what a king actually is, you know? It's funny, and a bit sad... But Vani is there and now so is Shadow, so it'll probably be fine). He keeps calling Custard his son/nephew/grandson/apprentice/heir (he keeps thinking of new titles all the time, all tongue-in-cheek) and cooing over him... in a not-so-different manner than how he likes to fuss over Vani lol
Yandere Shadow Milk: Ohhhhh this tiny little creature. This bright-eyed, bushy-tailed, ignorant little WEAKLING. None can take Pure Vanilla's place in ANY capacity, including leadership; though he might be a soft-hearted fool, Vanilla is nevertheless a capable king, and Shadow knows this - and he deeply, violently resents the thought of anyone usurping him, even if that throne no longer truly exists anymore. The thought of a small child wanting to be a king? To be like his Silly-Vanilly? Foolishness - and Shadow only tolerates foolishness if it occurs on HIS timetable and HIS terms. But it's fine... This child shall pay for his hubris eventually. Vani means so much to the boy, and vice versa... Perhaps Shadow can use this to his advantage. Perhaps he can breathe a whisper or two into his ear. Leave a footstep or two behind in his dreams. Tie a string to him somewhere, see if he notices - and after he doesn't, which Shadow knows he won't, he'll tie another. And another, and another. Until Shadow can greet the world with his brand new puppet. Poor little orphan boy, nowhere to go and no one to care about him... Stupid, arrogant, foolish little boy, who thinks he can rule the world and that he can ever be a fraction of who Vani is and was. He shall atone for his sins. For his pride, for that empty head, for that hideous little costume (he would try to stitch together such a haphazard monstrosity in the face of Shadow's own superior craftsmanship? He would try to don his Silly-Vanilly's face this way?!)... For being dear to Pure Vanilla at all, because the only person who deserved to exist in Vanilla's world is Shadow Milk himself.
Reformed Eternal Sugar: Now that she has found a place in the world and by Hollyberry's side, Sugar has likewise found good company in those surrounding Hollyberry herself - including and especially her dear son. Such a sweet man; so much like his mother, inside and out, albeit without the same energy... but that was alright. Royalberry's passion simply manifests in a different manner, one more similar to Sugar's own. Calmer, quieter, but no less sweet and sincere. Sugar almost acts as a motherly figure to him herself, sometimes... He doesn't mind, though. They get along quite well. She only hopes that whatever wisdom she can offer in service of the kingdom is actually worthwhile.
Yandere Eternal Sugar: Hm... Perhaps she would like him more if he was HER son. If he'd come from her rightful union with her dear Hollyberry. But he didn't, so she doesn't. Shame, really; he's quite adorable. So much like his mother... but not like her at all, at the same time. He lacked her drive, her spirit. Perhaps that was for the best; Sugar cared nothing for drive or spirit anymore, save for that fire that burned within her dear Hollyberry that awakened what was long-dormant within her... that strange, ethereal feeling that she dared to call happiness. And that lack of drive would make Sugar's plans all the easier... He's a weak, silly man who worries much and often. She has experience with people like that. She'll put him down for a nice nap, let him dream happy dreams where he can pretend he's a worthy king and son. Then she can right the wrong of his and the entire kingdom's existence and have Hollyberry to herself. Hollyberry could even join her in a special she'd gladly make up just for the two of them, where they have their own child, a better one than this fool she already wasted time loving and raising...
Reformed Mystic Flour: In all honesty, Flour actually harbors a bit of admiration for Dark Choco, for the path he once walked wasn't so different from hers... and he, like she eventually did, found the strength and wisdom to turn back. She's had a good few conversations with him about it all; about the nature of redemption and atonement, and how one answers to evil when it calls for your soul. Dark Choco can't help but understand and relate to Flour, always lamenting his own fall to darkness and betrayal of those he meant to protect and serve. Lots of commiserating between them, I'd say. Outright wallowing, at certain points lol. But it's this understanding between them that actually helps Flour along her journey to redemption, arguably more so than what others offer her. She cares for and respects Dark Choco, and vice versa. She can see so much of Dark Cacao in him... whatever mistakes Cacao made, he nevertheless raised a fine young man, even after making mistakes of his own. It only proves to her that Cacao really is the rightful owner of the Soul Jam after all...
Yandere Mystic Flour: ...What a strange feeling this man gives her. So much like Cacao. Too much so, in some places... yet, unlike his father (and, more importantly, exactly like her), he strayed from the path and ultimately stumbled and fell into the same abyss as she and so many others. Flour's denial of her attachment to Dark Cacao likewise extends to those around him, his son more than all the others - in fact, one might be tempted to say that her denial of having any thoughts or feelings regarding Dark Choco is stronger than what she has regarding Dark Cacao. The reason behind this goes as such: with how similar to Cacao he is, and with his fall from grace... it almost makes Flour hope believe ponder whether or not Cacao could fall from grace, as well. If Cacao could follow in his son's footsteps, as his son once tried so hard to follow in his. Dark Choco worsens her sickness, feeds her delusions, albeit indirectly. If he can fall - if he can become a beast - then Cacao can, too. And if he did, then perhaps she... they... No. No, no, not this. Not this nonsense... Dark Choco angers her worse than anyone else in Dark Cacao's life, because he inadvertently offers her this fantasy of Cacao turning out just like her, thus increasing her chances of having him. But... she doesn't want him. She doesn't want anyone or anything. She's not supposed to. Damn it, even things and people tangentially related to Cacao make her worse...
Reformed Burning Spice: Not unlike Shadow Milk, Burning Spice also once liked kids. He liked being seen and admired as a larger-than-life figure, figuratively and literally. He liked that he was "cool", he liked that he could be a big, strong protector to them. It's... difficult for him to lean back into this sentiment again. When you're a mass-murdering tyrant for so long, you tend to lose your people skills (it's something he always envied Shadow Milk for; even as a Beast, he knew how to hold sway over others with AND without violence. That envy was small and buried deep, but it existed nevertheless). And... many of his victims were children. Spice once killed wantonly, indiscriminately. He's beheaded children, cleaved them in two. Left them in pieces, scattered across the earth. The weakest, most vulnerable members of society... when he remembers how dishonorable and pathetic it is to target children, it deals quite the psychological blow. So he's quite awkward and uncomfortable around them while he's working through his redemption; they inspire a particular guilt and remorse in him that adults don't. Golden Cheese keeps pushing him, though, and brought Fettuccine around him most often as a sort of "practice". Fettuccine is calm, sweet and trusting; an "easier" child than most. Plus... she's a mummy. She, too, perished during the Dark Flour War. She's already endured pain, she's already faced death. There's nothing Spice can do that hasn't already been done to the poor girl. And Golden tries to remind him that she doesn't know him; they're complete strangers from different times and places. This is as fresh of a start as you can have with a person. So Spice is made to be an unwilling babysitter for a while... until he does eventually come around and warm up to the girl. And after he overcomes his reservations with Fettuccine, he goes on to overcome those he has with children in general. A series of baby steps that led him down the path of appreciating other people again, and he's grateful this little mummy girl helped him along
Yandere Burning Spice: Pfft. A mummy, huh? Amusing. Are his little bird's grief and desperation so great that it's infected the corpses of her oh so precious subjects? And one actually felt compelled to crawl out of her casket because of them, how charming. Burning Spice HATES Fettuccine. He hates ALL of the Golden Cheese Kingdom's citizens. He hates every single person, every single living organism that Golden Cheese ever paid an ounce of attention to besides himself. All the time and effort, all the blood and sweat and tears his little bird wasted on her oh so precious treasures - all of which should've been spent on HIM. Devoted to HIM. Nothing matters, no one matters, destruction is the only way. He will wipe EVERYTHING she ever held dear off the face of the earth, including Fettuccine. ESPECIALLY Fettuccine. This tiny, weak little worm that wiggled out of the dirt, trying desperately to crawl towards his little bird, craving her presence, her radiance. No. Golden Cheese's radiance is for Burning Spice alone. He can, he will, he MUST maim and dismember this pathetic child as soon as possible; the quicker he separates Golden Cheese from who and what she loves, the better. The quicker he can have her to himself. They can fight, they can dance, they can touch and taste each other, all without her treasures getting in their way. The world is theirs to do with as they please, and together, they shall wreak glorious havoc. And... well... if she gets upset... he can fix it. She likes children, he knows that. He can give her some. Such is his devotion to his other half that he'll briefly betray his nature and create something with her, for her. As many as she wants. As many times as she wants. Their children are the only children he'll ever give a damn about. And so help him, they'll be the only children that SHE gives a damn about, because he's going to slaughter all the other ones, STARTING WITH FETTUCCINE!
Reformed Silent Salt: Same deal as Spice tbh, only x1000. Salt struggles to be around anyone, let alone children, such is his soul-crushing guilt and shame. White Lily is the only one he's able to spend time with for a very long time; she has to coax him into coming into others' line of sight, and it doesn't work half the time. She ends up bringing people to him instead of bringing him to people - and, believing his demeanor might help soften him, she brings Gingerbrave and co. What an... unusually upbeat and forgiving boy, that Gingerbrave is. Lily acts as Salt's translator (I headcanon Salt as being mute and using sign + body language to communicate with people) as well as... a security blanket of sorts, because if she wasn't there, then Salt wouldn't be, either. But she's insistent, and so is Gingerbrave, and so are his friends. It's... strange, to have people be happy to see him again (I'll explain in a separate post, but I have some headcanons regarding Salt's old life and upbringing that basically amount to "I try to make myself useful so people think I have worth"). But it's nice. Nice enough that... he eventually lets more people near him. And eventually, he lets Lily and these kids lead him back to civilization, where he doesn't need to be alone with himself and his guilt anymore...
Yandere Silent Salt: Sigh... White Lily... His White Lily... All Silent Salt really wants is to make her happy. To see her pretty smile. For her to stop being so... sad. So somber. But that happiness needs to come from him. It NEEDS to. He tries so hard to pretend... He tries to be patient, he tries to let her focus on others for only a moment. But it never lasts. She's HIS White Lily. She moves too far away from him, she speaks too many words to someone else, she spends too much time in another's company- and he snaps. And that doesn't change with children, including Gingerbrave. ESPECIALLY Gingerbrave. That boy doesn't... suit her. Her countenance, her demeanor. He's too loud. Too annoying. Too simple. Silent Salt wants him to go away. He wants EVERYONE to go away, really, but Gingerbrave can go ahead first. Leave him and his White Lily to their peace. He tries so hard to pretend to be unbothered, Salt really does. But every passing moment, every ticking of the clock, every sound of that insipid boy's shrill voice and laughter reaching his ears (and all but drilling into his White Lily's, as he knows it must be)... He stands by in the shadows, waiting, waiting to take her back, his grip on his sword only tightening further and further...
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thrfted · 6 hours ago
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꩜ DATING MR. CRAWLING .ᐟ
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SFW GN!Reader HCS after the blissful love life ending.
Italics is in the other world’s language! Sometimes more the implied message rather than a direct translation. I'll probably do Mr. Hood later too :3 !
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Your bed is much more comfortable than anything in the other world, and it only makes it better that mr. Crawling gets to be in it with you. He grows accustomed to your nightly routine and is always excited to cuddle up. Big spoon, little spoon, facing each other—all of it makes him as happy as can be!
(^ As someone who still has a twin size, some of us have to invest in a much bigger one lol)
Generally so so affectionate and loves when you’re physically affectionate !! You can kiss his head and he’ll giggle, maybe point at his face and ask “Again!” You leave kisses all over his face, and his hands pull you in close when you finally kiss his lips.
One of Mr. Crawling's strongest traits is his patience—especially when it comes to you. The first day you come home without him trailing behind (much to his dismay, and honestly yours), he’s at the door to greet you, smiling and giggling as you wrap your arms around him. You find out he hadn’t done much but wait for you to come home. (With no complaints of boredom on his part, and all the worry on yours.)
He'll sit as you play with his hair, trying out new hairstyles or putting in clips. “Me cute? Pretty?” he asks. And if you let him do the same in return, he'll giggle and compliment you too.
I think he’d look through your closet and enjoy watching you try on clothes too. He compliments you and feels each of the fabrics, liking the ones that feel softest. He might try on some of the accessories if none of the actual clothes (sort of…) fit, and is really happy when you match!
Mr. Crawling is a fast learner. You worry he'll feel overwhelmed with all the new technology and words and whatever else, so you focus on making sure he’s comfortable. But he points at things and ask what they are, repeating after you. “You teach me language?” he asks and you laugh softly before nodding. “I teach you language.”
He will accidentally touch a hot stove top or pot if you don't remember to warn him beforehand. Then whenever you cook he gets worried you'll hurt yourself, watching to make sure you're alright (forgive him if he pulls your hand away and says “Danger! Don't touch!”)
Since he doesn't know his birthday, you make the day you returned special instead! He's happy to just stay in with you, eating a good meal and watching or learning something new.
Mr. Crawling also learns when yours is and does his best to make it a good day for you too. He tries singing happy birthday and makes food with what you have at home, mimicking the meals he's seen you prepare.
You teach him how to call your phone while you're away. It's supposed to “be for emergencies,” but you both know he's going to call just to hear your voice, and who are you to complain?
I think he gets sad sometimes when he sees or hears you talking to friends—the way you communicate and laugh so easily compared to conversations with him. The other world's language itself is limited, and he hasn't learned enough of your own. You spend some evenings reassuring him, reminding him learning is a process, and it doesn't change your feelings!!
He does his best to learn on his own. You buy (exercise) books and show him shows for younger kids and he spends a lot of time alone with them, both to surprise you, and also just because he loves talking with you and wants to talk more and more.
The first time he speaks your language is a special day. After many days of calling out that you’re back, he decides to say it himself. “You home!” You almost drop everything in your hands, and that’s when he continues, “Miss you.” It feels odd hearing it in his voice, but he’s grinning so wide, and you won’t find out for a while just how excited and nervous he was waiting for you to get home.
One of Mr. Crawling’s favourite things to say and hear is “I love you.” Every time you say it, he gets all giddy and tries to get closer to you (as if that’s possible while already cuddling in bed). He says it a lot while you’re doing chores or really nothing, just to remind you and see you smile. There’s no way in his mind for those 3 words to lose their meaning, or become any less special.
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