#꒰ 🐁 ꒱
Explore tagged Tumblr posts
starfilled-galaxy · 2 months ago
Text
Tumblr media
4K notes · View notes
merry-fagoland · 1 year ago
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
personas are the manifestation of ur true selves or some shit
10K notes · View notes
olyfrogg · 2 months ago
Text
Tumblr media
Owl Dinner🦉🥀🐇
My piece for the magical "Dark Fairies" zine @butchfairyzine
If you are no stranger to the allure of the macabre and everything that hides in the darkest corner of the woods, or you simply want to see some beautiful queer fairies up to no good, you can preorder the zine now
1K notes · View notes
queenie-the-court-jester · 1 year ago
Text
cotton and the magic vagina
for my beloved 🐁 anon 💋
Tumblr media
🐰cotton got a 9 incher I kid you not. He may be 4'9, but that monster in between his legs needs to be taken care of every half hour or else you'll have a needy bunny humping your thighs
🐰he wants lots of kids. So he'll try to make as many as possible without thinking of how to provide for them. About half of each litter makes it through infancy, the rest dying in their sleep. It makes you sad whenever you see the little graveyard you made in the backyard
🐰 he's a good father but it's hard teaching him not to fuck you Infront of the kids. Have some decency young man. You're completely appalled when he said his parent's use to do the same Infront of him and his siblings.
🐰the only clothing he doesn't immediately take off is his underwear, saying he likes the way it rubs against his dick. Weirdo.
🐰some days you can't even walk properly with how often he demands sex. He's not a one pump chump, going atleast 4 rounds before he lets you go back to work
🐰don't let him catch you lactating, he'll go ape shit begging to drink some of it. He'll sometimes get jealous of his own kids when he sees them get more attention. Immature brat.
Silly doodle ↓
Tumblr media
4K notes · View notes
peanutalergy · 4 months ago
Text
stray cat ꨄ s.r. × reader
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
in which spencer reid sneaks into fem!reader's room at night
tags: high school au !! no explicit content duh ? tooth rotting fluff in a brain rottingly terrible written way, reader is a cheerleader and like a popular girl ? idk I'm a sucker for the popular × nerd trope; not canon accurate obviously because if it were spencer would be twelve and bullied by everyone; mentions of blood and cuts and weapons and getting hurt but not in the way you might think ..?; reader's dad is mentioned ? yeah anyway idk what else sorry
w/c: 2k (this was meant to be a blurb ?)
a/n: okay so I found this draft from last year (back when I was still in hs (r.i.p.)) and I decided to finish it because it seemed cute. turned out terrible I hate it whatever, it's very ooc idk sorry ALSO inspired by a situation I lowkey went through myself hence why there's things spencer would never say/do, sorry
you’re sitting in bed with your computer atop your thighs, stressing over the third essay you have to finish by the weekend, when you hear a noise coming from outside. you ignore it, at first, thinking it's just a raccoon or a stray cat, until you hear a very human grunt from right beneath the window. immediately, you jump to grab the small—and frankly, quite useless—knife that you always keep in your bedside drawer in case of an intrusion or something of the sort.
you pull out your phone, contemplating dialing 911, until you see spencer's head pop up at the window. putting down the "weapon", you run across the room to open it, laughing confusedly as your boyfriend stumbles in. you help him inside, taking his hand in yours, which he holds onto like he might fall right now from right here.
you open your mouth, but he starts mumbling breathlessly before you even get the chance to say anything.
“i don't know what i was thinking, i’m never doing that again. i don't think just reading the stealthy guide to climbing roofs was enough, i mean, the writer didn't even take into consideration everything that could've went wrong. do you know how many terrible things could have happened? i could have fallen and broken my neck, someone could've seen me and called the police, or– doesn't your dad have a shotgun? do you think he heard me? god, i'm all dirty, i’ve got leaves all over me, i don't–”
you press a quick kiss to his lips, the most effective way you've found to shut him up. when you pull away, he's frozen, trying to catch his breath, cheeks rosy from the physical exercise–something he doesn't usually engage in–and from your touch, as well.
“what are you doing here?”
“sorry…” he mumbles, staring down at his fingers as they fidget with the sleeves of his cardigan, “i wanted to see you. did i wake you up?”
“oh, baby” you giggle, patting away the dirt and leaves from his body gently, “don't apologize, i'm glad you're here. i wasn't asleep, don't worry. you scared me, though. i thought someone was breaking in.”
“oh, i'm sorry, i didn't want to scare you, i’m really sorry. i should've called you.”
“no, don't worry. it's okay. it’s a nice surprise.”
“yeah…?” he asks, glancing up at you hesitantly.
“mhm.” you nod before taking his face in your hands. he tilts his head, leaning into your touch, similar to an animal who wants to be pet, but doesn’t know how to ask for it. you chuckle and give him another kiss, your fingers moving up and tangling in his hair.
“why did you go through the window, though? you could've just knocked on the door, my dad doesn't have a shotgun. he's a sweet little old man, he would've let you in just fine.”
“i don't know, i was scared. i'm sorry.” he says shyly. he's blushing furiously, heart almost jumping out of his ribcage, and it doesn't have anything to do with the adrenaline from the climb anymore.
“no, it's okay. you're fine, it's fine. are you hurt, though?”
“i- uh, i hurt my hands a bit, but it's nothing major, i’ll be fine.”
“aw, you poor thing. lemme see.” he looks down at his palms, and you take them in your hands to see they're all scraped, red and raw, blood mixing with some of the dirt. “jesus, spence. we should get that cleaned up, no?”
“no, no, it's fine. we– it's okay, we don't need to, i'll be fine.” he tries to pull his hands away, but your grip on his wrists doesn't let him, and he lets out a shaky exhale.
“hm, no, c'mon, that's gonna get infected or something. then your hands will get necrosis and fall off. do you want your hands to fall off, baby?”
he shakes his head, and you can tell he's holding back a chuckle, “well, that– that's not really how necrosis works, but–”
“no, it is, shut up.” you cut him off and give him a playful nudge, “please, just a few band-aids?”
he looks at you reluctantly, and after a second, he sighs and finally nods, “sure. but just because you're worried. i wouldn't get necrosis either way.”
you giggle and press your lips to his again. as you pull away and walk to the closet, you point to your bed and mumble, “go sit down,” which he does immediately, settling awkwardly at the edge of it.
while you search for the first aid kit, you notice spencer looking around your room with a smile. he's been here a few times before, but never at night, and he finds awe in the way the moonlight reflects off a mirrorball that sits on your desk, and the way your posters look when the only other source of lighting comes from a few vanilla scented candles.
it’s actually quite ironic how much you two fit together. no one would have to look at you twice before guessing your interests, and they'd be right if they were to say things like pop music and cheesy 2010s romcoms; but there's a side of you, a side only spencer reid has ever met, that matches him perfectly.
after a while, you walk back to the bed, little box in hands, and you sit down on the ground in front of him, looking up at him with a smile.
“please, don't sit on the floor.” he murmurs as you settle between his legs.
“why not? it's clean.” you mumble as you start rummaging through the first aid kit.
“no, but, you're– this is– just… it'll hurt your back.”
“it won't, though, don't worry.” you give him a smile, and before he can protest again, you put out your hands, “gimme.”
he gives you his wrists once more, where you hold as you begin gently wiping his palms with antiseptic. he winces at first, and tries to hold back a noise so as to not worry you even more.
“what were you thinking about?” you ask. he answers with a hm?, that makes you say it again, “when i got back. you looked like you were thinking about something.”
“oh, just… your room.”
“what about it?”
“it's so… you. i mean, the space in which one lives does tend to be a reflection of themselves, but… it's like you took everything that makes you yourself, and you spread it all around the place. it's adorable... like you.” he mumbles awkwardly.
you chuckle, looking around the room, glancing at him, then turning your attention back to his hands. this time, when the wipe touches his raw skin again, he hisses. “ooh, sorry, that hurt? i’m sorry, baby. i’m trying to be gentle, i swear.”
he shakes his head. “no, you're being gentle–” very gentle, more than anyone had ever been to him before, “–it's just the alcohol. it- uh… alcohol molecules activate the same nerve receptors in your skin that let you know hot is hot, so it burns. it's chemical. you're being very gentle, don't worry, it's not you.”
you hum, smiling and nodding, before you both go quiet. he's staring down at you as you work, brows furrowed as you concentrate on his hands. “y'know, i could've done this myself,” he mumbles.
“mm, yeah, well, we could do it all by ourselves. we'd be miserable, though, no?”
he's quiet for a second, thinking about a way to deny that, but when he can't find one, he just mutters a soft yeah and goes silent again.
scared of the situation getting too awkward, he starts rambling on about his day, telling you all things he believes you’d find interesting as you listen and nod and hum along and laugh. it's like he doesn't notice the words coming out of his mouth when they do, “i missed you at school today.”
“oh, i’m sorry, honey. i, uh– i wanted to talk to you at lunch, but, i– i wasn't sure you'd want to see me. i don't know, i didn't know if you'd want to be around the girls, and they wouldn't leave me alone, so... i didn't want to make you uncomfortable.” you say, looking at him between placing band-aids.
“of course i would've wanted to see you. yeah, your friends are… a lot. i think they don't really like me. but i don't mind being around them, if it means being around you.”
“no, they like you. don't worry about that, they like you."
“they sure have a strange way of showing it”
“yeah, well, they're– they look a bit, like, uhm… mean girls, but they're not. they're nice. they're just a bit... vain and shallow.”
“vain and shallow usually means mean girls.” he whispers with a chuckle.
“nah, not really. just means boring. to be fair, you're much cooler than them.” you answer with another laugh, to which he shakes his head in disbelief, right as you finish bandaging his hands.
you place two gentle kisses to his palms, which you can notice makes his breath hitch a little, and you put the kit to the side. you shuffle closer to him and tilt your head, resting it on his knee and smiling up at him, “i missed you, too.”
he nods and tucks a strand of your hair behind an ear, his touch lingering at your jaw. there's another moment of quiet, in which you just stare at each other, grinning. he looks at you and touches you almost as if you're not real, almost as if he's convinced this isn't actually happening.
he can't help but be fascinated by the intimacy of this moment. a few months ago, he had never even been looked at for more than a few seconds, and now he's doing staring contests with the captain of the cheerleading team, in her room, at night.
sure, the people at school still see him as a loser, but that doesn't matter to him. all he cares about is you. you're here, holding and taking care of him, looking at him like he's worth something. that's all that matters right now.
“hi.” you break the silence, though barely, your voice a quiet whisper.
“hi.” he whispers back with a smile, “please, will you get up from the floor…?”
you chuckle and stand up again, him being sat allowing you to press a kiss on his forehead while your fingers run through his hair. when you do so, he wraps his arms around your legs and burrows his face into your stomach, letting out a noise, almost a purr as he nuzzles against you like a kitten.
after a while, he pulls his head away to look around the room again, and his gaze falls on the laptop that had been sitting in your bed this whole time, the essay abandoned. "when is that due?"
"history class on friday."
"i could help you with it, if you want."
"no, no, no, you don't have to. don't worry. i'll get it done... sometime." you say with a chuckle.
he nods–he woke up the next morning and finished it for you while you got ready–and hides his face back in your shirt.
“are you sleeping over?” you ask, and it makes him lift up his head to look at you once more.
“can i?” he mutters reluctantly, “i don't want your parents to wake up, and see– y'know… a boy in your bed. and we've got school tomorrow, so…”
“do you want to sleep over?”
“mhm” he hums with a nod, his fingers absentmindedly playing with the hem of your shirt.
“my parents won't mind, then.”
“are you sure? i mean, teenagers are–” he starts rambling again, and you shut him up with another kiss.
“my parents won't mind.” you repeat after pulling away, leaving another peck on his nose, “and we can just skip school tomorrow. it’s gonna be boring, anyway. we don't even have any classes together. we can spend the whole day here, yeah?”
“okay, yeah.” he mumbles under his breath, trying not to look too nervous.
you smile and lie down on the bed. he immediately follows suit and curls up next to you, face buried in your chest, arms around your waist, leaning into your touch and clinging to you like you'll be gone if he lets go. “i love you,” he whispers, his warm breath against your skin sending tingles down your spine.
“i love you” you whisper back, placing yet another kiss on the crown of his head. it's not long after you start running your hands through his hair that he falls asleep.
and in the end, you realize that, in a sense, it actually was a stray cat at your window.
492 notes · View notes
briscolae · 5 months ago
Text
Lucio Corsi con Topo Gigio - Nel blu dipinto di blu
504 notes · View notes
ditzydoe444 · 5 months ago
Note
Now I’m thinking about Bunny! Reader complaining that mechanic Jason got oil all over her dress from when he hugged her and grabbed her ass with his oil filled hands and Jason saying “well, I guess you should take it off then” and then fucking on the bike? Sign me up pls and thank you <3
Also can I be anon 🐁 if it’s not already taken? Thank you :3
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
MDNI 18+
mechanic jason x bunny!reader ₍⑅ᐢ..ᐢ₎
a/n: added anon!!
you frowned at the oil stains on the mini dress you wore, it was a hot day and you decided to visit jason at the garage to bring him a drink. the moment the man laid his eyes on you he was right next to your side in seconds, arms around your waist as he lifted you above the ground, and then grabbing your ass after, squeezing the soft fat.
“jacey you stained my dress,” you pouted as you tried to wipe the oil and grease off, staining your fingertips black. jason let out a low chuckle, gently grabbing your hips to spin you around to see the damage he had done. “well it’s stained and a hot summer’s day, you can take it off you want,” he teased as he nibbled in your earlobe.
you narrowed your eyes, trying to look as mad as possible but you looked like an angry bunny instead in his eyes. “come on sweetheart, i’ve been working like a dog in this heat, can’t a man enjoy the nice view of his girlfriend?”
you didn’t miss the way his eyes glistened mischievously, how they scanned your body in the tiny dress like he was undressing you.
his large calloused hands went to grab your tits, pushing them up in his hands, “stained this area too,” his voice low.
“are you just going to stain my dress even more?” you grumbled though you couldn’t help but to let out a small smile. jason grinned, his hands gripping your waist tightly, “could say that bun, you would look so good without it in this garage,” his voice low as he played with the strap.
you quirked a brow, “so i just have to be all naked whilst you work? that doesn’t seem fair to ignore your beautiful girlfriend.”
his eyes darkened, before grabbing your ass again, squeezing the plush fat in his large palms.
“oh you think i’m just gonna work on the flimsy cars whilst my girlfriend is naked in the same room?” his breath hot around your ear. “nah bun, im gonna fuck you.”
in a matter of seconds jason lifted you up easily with his strong arms, placing you on his motorbike, you straddling it whilst he was behind you. “we don’t need this so let’s push it up yeah?” before you could even respond you felt his hands shove your dress to your waist, the flimsy material bunching around above your chest.
his hands dipped inside your panties, rubbing your wet folds. “already this wet sweetheart? you’re gonna stain my seat at this point.”
it took every ounce of self control to not let out a frown when he saw the small wet mark on the bikes leather seat.
you watched in confusion as jason turned the bike on, its engine roaring as the bike started vibrating.
oh.
“lean forward for me won’t ya bun?” jason commanded lowly as he pushed your panties off to the side.
you whined the moment the vibrations went up your clit, “jay,” your hands were clutched onto the handlebars as you tried to not squirm on the seat.
“lift ya hips for me won’t ya sweet thing? and lean forward.”
you knew better than to disobey jason in his own workplace and on his bike, that man would ruin you.
so you obeyed, letting a needy mewl when his fat tip entered inside you, sliding against your gummy walls as you clenched around him.
“fuck,” he hissed, as his nails dug into your soft flesh on your hips. “always so warm and tight for me aren’t ya? ‘m such a lucky guy.”
jason had you angled where he was able to fuck your cunt from behind whilst your clit was rubbing against the leather seat allowing the vibrations to touch the sensitive nerve.
“jay!” you whined as the sensation got too much, the slight burn from his sheer size as he abused your spongy walls and the vibrations on the clit turned you into a mess.
“j-jay it’s too much ‘m gonna come!” your moans increased as the only thing that was holding you up was his strong arm around your waist whilst the other held on your other hand around the handle.
“come on bun, coming already? since when were you such a sensitive little thing?”
516 notes · View notes
hugs-and-stabbies · 1 year ago
Text
Tumblr media
[ part 6 : end ]
[link to previous part]
and we're done!! I made yall some lil epilogue type of doodles for sticking by me through this tiny little comic! they're under the cut ^^
Tumblr media
2K notes · View notes
fastboatsmojito · 9 months ago
Note
my sweet beloved boatie!!!! congrats on 100<3 you're so deserving of it and i hope you get many more!! 💐
i've come for some filth with carl because i'm depraved so here we fuckin go my friend
19) angry sex in the middle of a fight + ❛ you want me quiet? make me. ❜
thank you xoxo -🐁
You’re so sweet :,) thank you !! <33
19 - angry sex in the middle of a fight - from this smutty prompt list! + “you want me quiet? Make me.” from this smutty dialogue list! For my 100 followers party !
| a/n; omg my first Carl req Ever I hope this does him justice 🫡
| cw; 18+ smut btc of course, fem reader (‘good girl’ used once), you’re both kinda dicks but it’s hot so it’s okay <3, smoking, Typical Shameless Shit, porn with a little plot, couch fucking in a house of peacefully sleeping gallaghers, PnV, no mention of condoms (b safe) - shocking I know, he covers your mouth for a bit, implied facefucking at the end whoops, a little brat tamer!Carl if u will >:)
| wc; 466
Dividers by @/strangergraphics
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
You would’ve admitted you were being a dick if he wasn’t doing the same, his head leaned back against the couch as he huffed out a cloud of smoke he’d usually direct away from you.
You could barely remember how the fight started, focused more on the pissy attitude radiating off of him as you stood with your arms crossed in front of him.
“You just gonna fuckin’ stand there all night?” He scoffed, putting the well finished cigarette out in the ashtray next to him before waving you over to sit with him.
You weren’t exactly happy but he was still Carl, and you figured you could be just as annoyed with him while comfortably sat in his lap.
The unamused expression on his face stayed when you settled into him, though his arms immediately coming around you almost gave his barely scorned attitude away.
“You wanna apologize now?” You asked, looking up at him through your lashes - still pissed enough not to kiss him even though the desire was clearly still there.
“Me? What about you?” He retorted, strong arms around you softening as he dropped his head back against the couch with a sigh.
“No fucking way.” You replied, draping your legs over his lap, elbows resting on the arm rest as you leaned away from him.
You didn’t enjoy fighting with him but he didn’t make it hard, especially when you both shared the bad habit of apologizing with actions before words.
And that’s exactly how you ended up bent over that same armrest - not the most comfortable position that he was holding you in. You could practically feel him in your stomach like this and the harsh hand clamped around your mouth was only adding to the fire burning within you.
“Apologize quietly.” He leaned over to whisper in your ear, moving his hand from your mouth to grip your hair instead. He had zero intention of dealing with the shit he’d get for fucking you in the living room of all places if you woke someone up.
“Make me.” You all but moaned, pouting when he pulled out of you and turned you around to face him, sitting on the same armrest you were just draped over while he meanly squished your cheeks together.
“Can’t call you a good girl if you don’t act like one, can I?” He looked divine like this, furrowed brows only making you want to piss him off more as his eyes bored into you.
He shook your head for you with his hand when you didn’t answer - tsking at you like a bad dog as he walked backwards and guided you to your knees.
“If you can’t even say sorry with that mouth I guess we’ll just have to find some other use for it.”
Tumblr media
642 notes · View notes
mouses-ear · 9 days ago
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media
what if we were soccer players who hated each other and then went through a horrible tragedy together which left us, even twenty five years later, as the only ones involved in the tragedy who still speak? What if, even after everything, I still can't stand the idea of you being disappointed in me. And we're both girls
197 notes · View notes
kiwisandpearls · 5 months ago
Text
honestly it would so funny that instead of batfam x neglected reader instead it's neglected batfam x reader lol.
like the batfamily just wants to spend time with you but your way to busy either with your job, school, or vigilante work.
Dick: Hey (y/n)! How about we go to the—
(Y/n) rushing past Dick with a punch of papers in their arms: uh huh, yeah that’s great, gotta go, bye.
Dick:
Dick: aw 😔
it would be so funny…for me. Personally.
347 notes · View notes
merry-fagoland · 10 months ago
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
1K notes · View notes
zzoupz · 10 months ago
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media
been playin stardew again :}
*not a mod. yet anyways
Tumblr media
sprites :3
also i fucked up by making the size 128x128 instead of 64x64 but its whatever. was a good pixel practice either way ^_^
484 notes · View notes
queenie-the-court-jester · 1 year ago
Note
Morning, Queenie. I saw you rebloged the thing about a Cowboy's hat and I can't stop thinking about how big daddy might do that..teehee
Love,
🐁 anon
🐂How did you end up like this. Big daddy's hat nearly falling off your head as you cling to the hay bale you're getting fucked on for dear life, trying to stay quiet.
🐂 You were making conversation with him during one of the farm owners annual spring festivals. You teased him about his hat, trying to knock it off and squaring up. But he mistook it as something completely different.
🐂He plopped his hat on you, and you being the none the wiser, happily ran around with it. After a while he asked you if you liked wearing his hat, and you said yes. He asked you again if you'd like to see another hat, but it was much bigger. You hesitantly nodded
🐂Next thing you knew, you were picked up like a sack of potatoes and taken into one of the more isolated barns. He gently took off your overalls and coerced you onto a hay bale. You tried wriggling away but a firm slap against your ass made you stop
🐂Wasting no time in ripping off your undies and prepping you open (he didn't wear any clothes, mainly because he was stubborn and so hairy.) You let out a gasp, feeling his wet tongue wiggle into your tight hole and working his way in. You were so thankful you shaved that morning.
🐂He didn't let you leave that barn until your legs were turned to jelly and his body covered in your fluids. Mrs.bené gave you a knowing smile as you made your way back to the party. You're never going to live this down.
1K notes · View notes
peanutalergy · 4 months ago
Text
housewife ♡ s.r. × reader
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
tags: fluff but there's maybe lowk a bit of angst in the beginning? idk but dw it's cute; husband!spencer, fem!reader, GIRLDAD!SPENCER they have a daughter who's named luna because of my bsf cough cough we don't talk about it; maybe probably ooc sorry
w/c: 1.3k
a/n: I hate this somehow more than the last one yay !! this is just a quick little thing I wrote a few days ago when I was bored in class so yeah it sucks sorry guys
“baby, i'm so so so sorry”
you don't even need to read any of the other fifteen messages spencer sent you to figure out what happened—it’s the third time this month.
“there were some problems with the paperwork from the case
i'll have to be home late
i'm so sorry, sweetheart
it won't happen again
i'll make it up to you, i swear”
among many other apologetic texts, all things he's told you an uncountable amount of times before.
you just reply with a that’s okay and start putting away the silverware and candles from the nice dinner you were trying to prepare. you put away the food after making yourself a plate, and you sit down on the sofa to eat while you stare at your phone screen, the messages he's sent.
you can't be mad at him. he warned you about his job before you got together, and you promised him you could handle it. you’d feel almost guilty if you were angry, as you know how important his job is, both to him and to the country. he's saving people's lives, getting rid of the bad guys, as he likes to tell your daughter. you can't be mad at him for working, not when that's what he does. but, god, were you upset.
he had promised to get home before the sunset, and it was now almost midnight. when you picked up your daughter from her grandparents’, where she had been staying to give you and spencer some alone time—if he had gotten home when you planned it—even though she begged to stay up for her dad, you had to put her to bed with the promise of seeing him tomorrow.
when he gets home and sees you doing the dishes from the dinner, he immediately walks up to you and hugs you from behind, wrapping his arms around your waist and burying his face in your neck, peppering soft kisses there.
“i'm so sorry, baby.”
you nod, repeating the words you've probably said the most ever since getting married: “it's okay.”
“it's not, though. i shouldn't be leaving you girls like this so often.”
you hum and stay quiet for a while, until you finish up the dishes and turn around to face him, wrapping your arms around his neck and giving him a smile. “it's okay, spence.”
“stop saying that, it's not okay. i haven't seen you and luna in what feels like forever, and when i get home, she's already asleep, and you're upset. it's terrible. you shouldn't be so accepting of that.”
“it's not your fault, honey, really. this is your job, i can’t blame you for doing it.”
“i could find a new job, then.”
you stare up at him silently, processing his words for a moment, not knowing whether he's joking or not. you want him to be, because otherwise, you'll let him do it, and you don't want to be the reason he leaves a group of people he loves so much.
“i’m serious. i could be a professor full-time. or stay at home, if you want to go back to work.” he tucks a strand of hair behind your ear, smiling as he speaks in that dulcet tone.
“no, but you can't. you love it too much. you love the team too much.”
“i love you more, though”
you chuckle, shaking your head while you talk “it's like when house tried to quit being a doctor. he couldn't.”
“no, but i can. i really can. i’m willing to leave the team, they'll get it. i want to be a better husband and father, i don't… you know what happened to hotch and haley. i don't want you…” he can't even bring himself to say it. as he trails off, he shakes his head and squeezes his eyes shut, before looking back at you.
you stay quiet, your gaze falling from his eyes to a random spot behind him as you think of what to say. but when you hear the bedroom door creaking and soft footsteps, you both look at the hallway and see a tiny girl rubbing her eyes and mumbling sleepily.
“daddy?”
your tiny girl.
you smile and your arms fall from his neck, freeing him to go over to her. he lets go of you, albeit hesitantly, and takes her in his arms instead, twirling her around in the air as he gives her kisses.
“oh, my sweet girl, why aren't you asleep?” he asks with a chuckle as she wraps her arms around his neck and hides her face in his chest—hugging him similarly to how you were just seconds ago.
“i wanted to see you, daddy.” she mumbles, her tired voice muffled by the fabric of his shirt, making him look up at you with a pout like he hasn't seen the full extent of her cuteness many times before.
as he tries convincing her to go back to bed, he unknowingly and simultaneously convinces you it might not be that bad of an idea for him to leave the bau. seeing him tuck her into her bed like that made you wonder if he should ever be apart from her again.
so, as soon as you're alone again, this time after having showered and lied down, you gather up the courage to bring up the subject again.
“you're sure you want to quit?”
“yes.” he says with a certainty you'd never heard from him or anyone else before “yes, i'm so sure. i'd love to be able to spend more time with you and luna, to have dinner at home more than twice a week. i should've thought about it sooner, really.”
you hum and shuffle closer to him, tucking your face into the crook of his neck and whispering “okay.”
suddenly, you hear a weak knock on the door, and it's opened before either of you respond. luna walks in and stands in front of the bed, holding her stuffed giraffe to her heart and looking at you before speaking softly, “mommy... please, can i sleep with you tonight?”
“are you okay, baby?” you ask, a worried tone to your voice as you pull away from spencer to make space for her.
she crawls into bed, lying down between the two of you and wrapping her tiny arms around him, though they're too short to go fully around his torso, “i miss daddy.”
he chuckles and presses a kiss on her forehead, putting his arm out, where you lie your head. he brings his other hand to her back, rubbing circles on it and holding her close against his chest in order to get her to sleep, “i know, sweetie, i'm right here.”
soon enough, she's snoring.
after a long moment, you tilt up your head to check that spencer's still awake, and when you see his open eyes smiling at you, you whisper, “i'd love to go back to work.”
he lets out a breath, barely a chuckle as his hand around you starts running through your hair, “yeah?”
you hum with a nod, “mm-hmm. the bread making wife.”
he laughs at that, shaking his head, “yeah, i'd love to be your stay at home husband. if you'll have me as such.”
you giggle quietly and nuzzle your face into luna's hair. “would you wear a nice apron? like a proper housewife from the 1950s?” you ask after a beat, looking up at him through your lashes.
“do you want me to?”
you stop to think for a second, voice barely more than a shy whisper when you speak again, “kinda.”
“i will, then.”
and as soon as you go back to working, throughout a week of coming home to spencer making dinner while wearing an apron, you figure out why men like having their wives do it so much, and you almost stop hating that.
421 notes · View notes