1ncandescentrage · 6 months ago
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Wheeee nesting Thursday
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humanpurposes · 3 months ago
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Can I Be Yours? - Nightblooms II
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Aemond returns to the pleasure house after the battle of Rook's Rest // Main Masterlist
Aemond x unnamed female character
Warnings: 18+, smut, dub-con, angst, sex work, unresolved childhood trauma, implied underage and non-con (not explicitly depicted), mentions of war, violence and death, ambiguous ending
Words: 3k
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Each day she arrives at the market shortly after sunrise. She has the coin to pay for the usual cheap cuts of meat, for fats and vegetables to make into something edible, but there is nothing to buy; most of the vendors have sold the last of their wares. Summer is at an end, there are less crops coming from the Reach and the sea is still cut off with no end in sight to the blockade. 
King’s Landing has never been a place where she feels at ease but as the season shifts and the war goes on, families are starving and people are getting desperate, fighting over what they can get their hands on. They’ve all been reduced to dogs, clawing at each other over scraps while carts of livestock and fresh produce trundle through the streets towards the Red Keep, guarded by men in Hightower green.
She manages to buy some crabs and vegetables she’ll have to cut the mould from. They have a store of grain in the kitchens to make flatbread, though they have to use less and less each day, anticipating when they’ll be able to find more.
She eats less of her share so the younger girls won’t have to go hungry. Besides, she hasn’t had much of an appetite for days.
She had spent hours trying to rinse herself clean of the King and his companions after they’d had their way with her– after Aemond had left her to their mercy. That night she scrubbed at her skin with salt, then a cloth, then a bristled brush. That feeling was still there, like sweat sticking to her skin, like her body was not her own. She heard their voices and their cold laughter with the rush of water past her ears. She scrubbed harder and harder until she tinted the water pink with her blood.
One morning, one of the girls returns to the pleasure house, unsuccessful in finding a cure for her babe’s fever, but startled by something else.
The Hightower army has returned from a battle, dragging the head of a dragon on a cart through the city.
“It’s monstrous,” the girl says, trying to measure the scale of the head with her arms. “It had black blood, and gods, the smell, like charred meat!”
Sylvi hovers over her shoulder. “Slain by your favourite, I wonder?”
Favourite? Clearly she was not so favoured by Prince Aemond.
Men are led by their desires. That’s why, even as the city is starving, they find the money to come here and seek their pleasure. They are fickle, easily satiated and have no loyalties but to themselves, to their own preservation.
Sylvi huffs when she does not react to her teasing. “Seven above, do try to look less miserable, girl.”
She’s been trying for days, but she can’t force a pleasant demeanour when she feels so hollow.
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The returning soldiers come to the Street of Silk that night, newly paid and come to bask in their victory. Her gown is a deep shade of blue and Sylvi has given her some of her jewellery, sapphire earrings and a heavy gold necklace that feels like a collar, to cover the bruises on her neck left by the King.
She catches the eye of a soldier in the main chamber. He takes her by the waist and drags her onto his thigh.
He moves clumsily, trying to drag her core against his leg or the bulge in his breeches, she cannot tell and she does not care. 
Look less miserable, it’s only a motion of the body.
Look less miserable, men want a woman who is warm, who smiles.
Look less miserable, but has he noticed her fallen face and the empty look in her eyes? Likely not.
Her body feels numb again.
“Look at me,” the man demands.
She turns her head towards him but her eyes are down, elsewhere completely. She pictures candlelight, a veil around the edges of a bed so the bodies around her are like shadows. She feels a weight on her chest and stomach, limbs intertwined with hers, long, loose hair spilling over her bare skin. A voice is just out of reach.
Look at me, look at me, look at me–
“My Prince!”
Her senses come back to her as quickly as a match takes to flame. Her head darts to where the soldier is looking, to the man standing before them, dark leathers, silver hair, an eyepatch over his face and a sword hanging from his hip.
Aemond tilts his head, his one eye intent on her. 
“Apologies, Prince Regent,” the soldier says, and shoves her off his lap so he can stand.
She stumbles but holds her ground. Her eyes are on the floor but imagining his face frowning in displeasure, the sight of his scar, the lines of his muscles under his skin. She cannot bear to truly look upon him, but he’s watching her.
Why come now? Why her, when she has already proved worthless to him?
“Come,” Aemond says without reaching for her, without waiting for her to match his gaze. She follows, if only to escape the wanton soldier.
Aemond takes her to the same chamber, standing at the foot of the same bed where they used to lay together.
She stands before him with her eyes lowered.
He towers over her and lifts her chin to match his gaze with a gloved hand. The leather against her skin is unnatural, cold, disturbing her very being like ripples through a peaceful surface of water. The sight of him only brings her pain, as does the separation from him. Fear and admiration twist together and writhe in her gut.
He reaches to remove the necklace first, letting it fall to the floor. “An ugly thing,” he mutters, “do not wear this again, I find it distracting.” It bares her bruises. He traces his gloved fingers over the flushes of red and purple in her skin.
Next he undoes her dress, another gown designed to fall away from one clasp. She does not remove the rest to bare herself, so he tugs the gown away himself, pulling her forward by her wrists to make her step away from where it pools on the floor.
Without any further preamble he surges into her, cupping her jaw with his hands and kissing her passionately. He demands reception with his lips, tongue and teeth, but she will not give it to him. She remains as steadfast as she can.
He pauses, kissing her again, then again.
“What’s the matter?” His voice is subtle and as soft as the edge of a knife. Gently, he takes a hold of her neck. It is tender, but not quite a comfort. Her pulse beats furiously against his fingers. “You are angry with me, is that it?”
Has he thought of her these last few days? Does he blame himself for the bruises on her neck? 
She says nothing.
“I’ll not fuck an unwilling whore.”
“No,” it falls from her lips like a breath.
Aemond tuts and tilts his head. “No?”
She parts her lips but she cannot speak.
His one-eyed stare darkens. He will take her silence for defiance, and that is not what he pays for.
If all he seeks is carnal desire she will grant him this. She tears away the layers of him, his gloves, the buckles on his jerkin, her fingers fumbling in her determination.
Aemond grunts as she pushes the sleeves from his shoulders, the leather landing with a heavy thud on the floor. His face is perplexed but he does not resist.
She tugs at the strings of his undershirt and pulls it over his head. When his chest is bare she puts her hands on his shoulders and pulls herself in, crashing her lips into his. Everything becomes a single feeling, a fire in her chest, hurt and rage and— she’s not naive enough to call it love, but it’s an urge that spurns her to be close to him. Their teeth clash. She loses her focus and her lips graze over his cheek. She finds him again, drawing her tongue against his, dragging her teeth over his lip–
“Fuck!” Aemond hisses, snatching himself away from her. He dabs his fingertips to his lip, checking for blood that isn’t there. 
His eye is wide but gleaming, excited at the challenge. 
Her heart leaps when Aemond grasps her jaw. He drags her chin up, fingertips pressing into the bone. “I find your insolence tiresome,” he snarls.
The edge of his nose brushes against hers. She feels his breath, how his chest rises and falls against her body, how his heart beats as frantically as hers.
She shakes her head. “I am yours, my Prince.”
He lays her on the bed, pushing her thighs apart and holding them down as he kneels.
He sighs at the sight of her.
Each drag of his tongue is divine, circling and pressing at the places he has come to know will please her the most. She tries to chase the friction with her hips but he holds her firmly in place.
She reaches for his hair, slipping the eyepatch from his face so she can see all of him. He looks up at her as she does, his lips glistening with her arousal while his sapphire consumes the golden light of the candles. 
Between the movements of his mouth he mutters to himself, words she has heard before but does not know the meaning to. His voice is heavy and breathless and she adores it. 
Her peak comes suddenly, a wave of warmth and weightlessness that lingers after Aemond has drawn his mouth away from her.
He’s just out of her reach, standing over the bed and slowly pulling on the strings of his breeches. 
She brings herself to sit, only to be thrown down again and roughly turned onto her front.
“Aemond?”
His hands pull her up by her hips. His thumb glides in circles over her entrance and she stutters into compliance. There’s a ruffle of fabric before he replaces his digit with the head of his cock. He teases her as he rocks back and forth. The pleasure is sparse, a delicious kind of torture. She grips at the linens and sinks her teeth into her lip.
On one motion of his hips, Aemond slips inside of her. She sighs at the stretch of it. He stills for a moment to let her adjust, pushing himself to the hilt and slowly drawing back. She feels how his fingertips dig into her flesh, marks that will stay for days. She can picture the look in his eye, his resolve melting away.
She props herself up on her hands, turning over her shoulder. He meets her, pressing his nose against her cheek, teasing his lips over her skin.
“Do you still find me insolent?” she whispers.
Aemond hums. 
He draws back, only to snap his hips harshly into her rear. It knocks the breath from her lungs and he holds his arm around her to hold her close to him, his palm pressing into her stomach as he fucks her roughly and without reprieve.
This is the Prince she has only ever seen glimpses of. She’s heard the workings of his mind and his regrets, but she’s never seen him unleash himself, a dragonrider, a warrior, now a demanding lover.
Each kiss of his cock at her sweet spot aches and drives her towards bliss. She grasps at his hand, leaning her head into his. His sweat drips onto her brow. His moans fall upon the shell of her ear.
She feels another peak edging closer when Aemond pushes her torso down against the bed. He keeps his hands on her shoulders. Her own moans are muffled against the mattress and she cannot move. She can only take what she is given, fast fucking and brutal precision. 
He comes with a unrestrained groan, spilling himself deep within her cunt. His weight falls against her back and he nestles his face into her neck, whispering some appraisal in an ancient language, gently fucking his seed deeper.
She whines as she catches her breath, letting herself settle with him on top of her. They stay like this for a time. Before he finally moves, Aemond presses a delicate kiss to her brow.
They lay amongst linen and silk, his head on her chest, his arms wrapped around her ribs, moving with her as she breathes. 
He tells her of Rook’s Rest, of his plan to attack during the daylight and bait their enemy into sending a dragon, then he would lead Vhagar into an ambush. He had not expected Aegon to join the battle, and when the smoke cleared, only Aemond and Vhagar remained unscathed.
“Perhaps I should have been more forgiving, but he got in my way.”
What did you do? She wonders, but cannot bring herself to give a voice to her question. 
That soldier had named Aemond as Regent. Not the title he wants, but it is a brutal reminder that only one life stands between him and the throne he pursues. 
“And even when he is… incapacitated, my victory is named as his. It was meant to be mine.”
The dragon head was his doing after all. 
Tears run freely down her cheeks, not that he will see.
He takes a breath and waits. She’s done this enough times by now to know he’s waiting for her to say something. He needs her to say something.
What loyalty has your brother ever shown you? He knows you were better suited to war, at least now he will not overestimate himself.
She does not wish to think of Aegon. 
“You left me,” she utters.
Aemond tilts his head towards her. She meets his eye. When he sees the tears on her face his own expression softens.
“You left me to entertain those men. You didn’t even look back.”
Aemond swallows thickly, making a soft clicking sound with his tongue. “I had to.”
“Had to?”
“You would not understand.”
“I understand perfectly. You are a Prince. To you, I am nothing but a body to be used.”
“I’ve never said that.”
“You do not need to say it. It is the nature of the world we live in.” 
He shifts himself to lay beside her, face-to-face. His thumb strokes over her cheek and at the corner of her mouth. “I’ve only ever admired you,” he says. “You came to me when I felt alone.”
Back when they were children, when she was innocent enough to think the gods favoured those who were kind, merciful, good. 
“You looked lost. I was the same the first time…” the first time Sylvi brought her into a room with a strange man. When she sees girls of the same age, she wants to take them into her arms and shield them from strangers, from the people who promise to care for them and do not. “I knew how it felt to be used and then discarded, like none of it mattered. But it did. It mattered to me.” 
Aemond’s eye shimmers like glass.
“I needed you, do you understand that? I needed your protection,” she says.
He blinks and a tear falls from his eye. 
“You taunt me with this,” she says, wiping it away with her thumb.
He holds her hand against his jaw. “I’m not trying to taunt you,” he pleads. “You are the only one, the only one I can speak my mind to.”
She has seen his pride, his remorse, his shame, but she has never seen fear in Aemond. She does now. He clasps onto her hand like she’ll fade away.
“I try. I know my place in my family. I know what they need of me. I try, but I am not always strong enough.”
Jaehaerys, the little Prince who lost his head. He has a sister and a mother grieving his loss, what of them?
What of Aegon?
“I’ll protect you,” he says, kissing the heel of her palm, the inside of her wrist.
How will he do that? Before morning he will leave a purse of gold in her hand and return to his Keep. While he plots his war and demands taxes and tithes from the people of the Crownlands, she will endure in a city that is slowly starving to death.
And when the war of dragons comes to the skies over King’s Landing? Will he pick her out from the masses atop Vhagar? Will he find a way to spare her from the fire and the bloodshed?
It does not bear thinking about. She holds him and tries to forget anything other than this feeling, his weight and warmth, his hair between her fingertips, the points in his bones, his legs intertwined with hers. Everything about him that is cold and cruel. Everything about him that is quietly beautiful.
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I've kinda given up on taglists <3
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fluentmoviequoter · 7 months ago
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A Room Away (No More)
Part 2 of A Room Away
Pairing: Tim Bradford x fem!roommate!reader
Summary: Your abusive ex reaches out, and you hide it from Tim until it's almost too late.
Warnings: angst, domestic violence, abuse, assault, anxiety/panic attacks, fluff and a happy ending guaranteed!!
Word Count: 3.7k+ words
A/N: A Room Away is one of the first Tim fics I wrote and it took me a few months, but I loved writing this continuation! I hope you enjoy!🤍
Picture from Pinterest
Masterlist | Tim Bradford Masterlist | Request Info/Fandom List
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Tim’s thumb brushes back and forth over a nearly invisible scar on your arm as you wait for your dinner guests. Remembering that it has been days since your last nightmare and nearly a week without a migraine makes you smile, and Tim glances at you but doesn’t ask any questions. The doorbell rings and he grumbles under his breath as he leaves your side. As he opens the door to invite Angela and Wesley in, your phone vibrates beside you. Tim is giving Angela a hard time, as usual, and you take the moment when her attention isn’t on you to read the new text.
Unknown There is nowhere you can go that my love won’t lead me to find you.
The sentence is familiar, too familiar. You read the message again, and before you finish another comes through.
Unknown Los Angeles isn’t big enough to hide you from me.
“Are you okay?” Angela asks.
You lock your phone quickly and clear your throat before you look up at her and nod. The message repeats over and over in your head. Your phone may not know who sent the text, but you do, and knowing that your ex is in the same city as you terrifies you. Deep down, you know you should tell Tim, but you can’t.
“How’s Timothy treating you?” Angela adds.
She sits beside you, and you try to forget about the text for now. “He still won’t reduce my rent,” you complain jokingly.
Tim watches you from his spot in the kitchen. The last few weeks have been good. Your nightmares are becoming less frequent, you let Tim touch you without flinching or panicking, but the look on your face right now isn’t right.
“How are things?” Wesley asks. “Need a prenup, yet?”
“Funny, Wesley,” Tim replies without looking away from you. “I hope Angela cleans you out in the divorce.”
“He can keep the kids,” Angela adds from beside you.
“Good luck getting rid of me,” Wesley says. He lowers his voice and turns away from Angela to ask, “Seriously, Tim, is everything okay?”
“Yeah. Things are good, great even. I just don’t want to do anything that makes us go backward.”
“Abusive relationships are hard to get over, but you’re helping her with that, Tim.”
“I hope so.”
“Wasn’t a question, Sergeant.”
Tim rolls his eyes as he puts your favorite food on a plate. It isn’t often that Angela and Wesley come over, but right now, Tim wishes he was alone with you so he could check on you. You don’t seem to hide things from him on purpose, and he understands the time it takes to trust people after having your trust betrayed and being abused. He’ll never push, but the moment you pull, he’s there. Never more than a phone call or a room away.
“Here you go,” Tim murmurs as he passes you a plate.
Your shoulders tense as he nears you but drop just as quickly. The jumpiness is something that was completely gone just yesterday, and Tim furrows his brows as he watches you accept the plate and look out the window. He runs a finger over your jawline to bring your attention back to him, and you smile at him.
“You alright?” he asks.
It seems to be everyone’s question tonight, and you once again lie, “Yeah.”
Tim nods and you thank him for the food before moving to sit by Angela. With his eyes on you throughout dinner, Tim decides that something is wrong, and he needs to get to the bottom of it. You open up as the night continues, yet when Angela and Wesley leave, you fall silent as you clear the table.
“Hey,” Tim calls softly.
He wraps a kind hand around your wrist to stop you, and you flinch away from him involuntarily. Tim raises his hands, and you drop your chin toward your chest and fight the tears threatening to spill. You’re scared because of the text, but that is no reason to move away from Tim. As you struggle not to panic, Tim whispers that everything is okay.
“I’m sorry,” you breathe out.
Tim shakes his head to remind you that you never have to apologize. You step closer and pinch his shirt between your fingers before wrapping your arms tightly around his waist. Strong arms settle over your back, and you push your cheek over Tim’s heart.
“I’m just feeling off, or something,” you say. “Please don’t worry about me.”
Tim hums and moves a hand to brush your hair away from your face. He won’t agree not to worry about you, and it’s too late to pretend like he’s not already doing just that.
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The next few days pass slowly, and as you continue to spend more time at home, Tim’s concerns grow. You’re up and moving around, so it’s not a migraine, but you haven’t worked more than eight hours in three days. Every time Tim sees you at home, he hugs you, kisses you, and silently reminds you that he’s right beside you, but you keep up your act that nothing is wrong. It’s a failing façade, though, and you’re just waiting to break.
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When you wake just after 1 in the morning, you can’t stop the scream that escapes. Your ex was in your room, in Tim’s home, and when he was done with you he was going to cross the hall and do the same to Tim. Of all the nightmares you’ve had, seeing Tim moments away from being hurt was the scariest of them all. You pull your knees up to your chest and drop your head as you sob, your panicked scream making way for the fear you’ve been burying since you got the text.
Tim comes in without question or knocking, and when your door hits the wall, you lift your head and flinch to the other side of your bed. At the sight of Tim, however, you launch yourself toward him and let him pull you close. You cry against his chest as he whispers comforting promises, but the only thing that helps you is the tangible reminder that he is safe. You tell yourself over and over, clutch his shirt, and listen to his heartbeat. He’s safe, and he won’t let anything happen to either one of us.
As he holds you, Tim keeps you as close as possible. He knows that you shouldn’t ask questions now. Not that you’d give him an honest answer anyway, he thinks. Whatever you’ve been hiding is making you scared, and it breaks Tim’s heart to see you affected this way. Waking up to your scream scared him, so he can only imagine what must be going through your mind.
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Unknown I saw the planetarium today. Can you see it from your new home?
Unknown Met a girl in the supermarket who looked like you. But I won’t settle for second best.
Unknown Clues, clues, clues. Am I getting closer, baby?
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With each new text you receive, you have to talk yourself out of running from Tim. You don’t want to pull away from him, but you constantly worry that if you’re found, Tim will be in danger, too. A knock on your door draws your attention away from the newest message, and Tim smiles when you meet his eyes.
“Want to go to lunch? Just us?” he offers.
You should say no, but you nod before standing. Nothing bad can happen in public, and being beside Tim is the safest place to be, you think. Even as you try to convince yourself that going to lunch will be fine, you can feel the fear and anxiety building in your chest. It weighs down on you and makes it hard to breathe, so you measure each breath and focus on Tim instead of the adrenal responses flooding your body.
Tim turns into a random subdivision and slows down. You raise your brows and look at him, but he only offers a hand extended over the console. When you lay your hand over his, he intertwines his fingers with yours and pulls your hand closer to him. He makes another turn, and you realize that he’s not taking a shortcut to the restaurant.
“What are you doing?” you inquire quietly.
“I don’t want to push you too hard or too soon,” he says. “But something is bothering you, and I can’t help if you stop talking to me.”
“Tim, I’m fine, I promise. I’ve just been feeling off.”
“Why?”
“It doesn’t matter. It’ll pass.”
“What will pass? Pushing me away and blocking me out won’t fix whatever is happening!”
“And telling you will?” you ask. You’re getting defensive because you’re scared, and you try to pull your hand away so you can stop talking to him.
“Why did you ever let me in if it was just going to end like this? I’m with you, but why can’t you trust me enough to tell you what’s making you scream in the middle of the night and jump when I walk up behind you?”
“Because he can threaten me all he wants, but I don’t want Brent to find you too!” you snap.
“Brent?” Tim asks lowly. He pulls his hand away and sets his jaw to ask, “Brent who?”
You shrink in the passenger seat and whisper his last name. Tim’s brakes squeal as he presses the pedal to the floor and parks on the side of the road. You can tell without looking at him that he’s angry, and you slipping up and saying your ex’s name certainly didn’t help.
“Get out,” Tim orders.
“Are you serious?” you whisper brokenly.
“Out of my truck. Now.”
You slide out of the passenger seat and close the door behind you. Tears have been building in your eyes for a week, and you let them fall freely now. You’re scared and hurting, but Tim refuses to look at you as you stand on the curb.
“Tim, please don’t do this,” you plead through the rolled-down window.
Tim doesn’t answer, and when he shifts the truck back into drive, you know he’s serious about leaving you here.
“Tim, please!” you beg through your tears.
“Go home,” he says over the engine.
The truck pulls away from the curb where you stand, and you harshly wipe your tears away to clear your vision. As you dig for your phone, you know it’s time to take Angela up on her offer. She said to call if Tim was ever mean to you, and you think leaving you on the side of the road counts.
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Tim turns around in a nearby cul-de-sac and parks behind a tree where you can’t see him, but he can keep an eye on you. He’s angry and needed a second to calm down, but he never intended to leave you. He sighs as he types the name of your ex into his phone. He’ll ask Angela to run it later. When Tim looks back up at you, you have your back to him, and your phone raised to your ear. Your shoulders shake as you cry, and Tim taps his knuckles against his steering wheel. He made you cry this time, and though he’s glad to have a few answers, he wishes this wasn’t how he got them.
After moving in, you confided in Tim that Angela told you to call her if he was ever mean to you. When her car pulls up and you climb into the passenger seat, Tim shakes his head fondly. You’re mad at him, but you’re still perfect in his eyes. Now that he knows you’re safe, Tim decides to stop by the station and do some digging on your ex.
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“I think I’m going to text Tim,” you say.
“What? No! He abandoned you. Just eat your ice cream and wait for him to come and beg on his knees,” Angela replies. She points her spoon at you and adds, “You’re too good for him, anyway.”
“I think that’s the other way around.”
“Fine,” she groans. “Text him. But I’m still mad at him.”
Your text to Tim is short, a simple apology, just: I’m sorry. His response is nearly immediate, and you smile when his name pops up in the notification.
Tim I’m not mad at you. I know you’re with Angela. Want me to pick you up?
Tim You don’t have to come home if you’re not ready. Whatever you want.
Your response is a promise that what you want is to be with Tim. Angela rolls her eyes at your smile, but she’s happy for you and Tim. After all, it’s because of her that you found a place a live and met Tim. She begins to ask a question, but your ringing phone cuts her off.
“Tim?” you ask as you answer.
“When did the texts start?” he inquires.
“Uh, about a week ago, I guess.”
“Change of plans, then. Let me talk to Angela.”
You pass the phone to Angela, and she listens for a moment before she stands and walks into her bedroom. Whatever they’re talking about, they don’t want you to know about. Tim said there was a change of plans, which sounds suspiciously like he won’t be taking you home tonight. The panic from earlier returns slowly as you wonder if he’ll ever let you go home again.
“Your boyfriend wants to talk,” Angela says, cutting through your doubt as she returns your phone.
“Sorry,” Tim begins. “I looked into your ex. He flew into LAX about a week ago, so the texts weren’t just threats. He’s here. And a week is a long time when you’re trying to find someone. I want you to stay at Angela’s tonight, okay?”
“Are you- are you working tonight?” you ask softly.
“I am now. Brent’s got an arrest warrant, and the threats he sent you make him a higher priority. We’re gonna look for him. We will find him,” Tim promises.
“Be careful, Tim.”
“I will. I have to get home to you, right?”
“Right.”
“I’ll call you later and check in. Let Angela know if you get more texts, please.”
“I will. Sorry for not telling you sooner.”
“I promise I’m not mad at you.”
“I know,” you murmur. “See you later, Tim.”
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Tim’s decision to drive by his house before he starts looking for your abusive ex was both a precaution and about Kojo. The house looks exactly as it had when he left with you for lunch, and Tim puts Kojo in the front seat of his shop before driving toward Angela and Wesley’s house. If Brent goes to his house to find you, both you and Kojo will be safe and sound with Angela Lopez prepared to defend you. There aren’t many people Tim trusts, but when you called Angela, he knew you made the right choice. It’s the one he would have made, too.
Kojo pushes past Angela to meet you when she opens the door. You happily invite him into your lap and hug him tightly. He soothes your nerves without trying, and you loosen your grip on him only to look up at Tim.
“Nothing yet,” he says with a shake of his head. “I’m a call away if you need anything.”
“Thank you, Tim,” you reply.
He lays a hand on your shoulder and smiles as he promises, “I’ve got you.”
“Where’s your car?” Angela asks you.
“I just moved it. Public parking off Sepulveda,” Tim answers for you. “He doesn’t seem like the smartest guy in the world, but, just in case.”
“He’s not,” you agree.
Tim slowly pulls his hand away before he leaves again, and you lean closer to Kojo for his comfort. Angela disappears into her bedroom again a few minutes later and returns in a rush.
“I have to go. There’s been a homicide,” she explains. “I called Tim and he’ll be here in less than thirty minutes. Don’t answer the door for anyone; he and Wesley have keys.” She slows to ask, “Are you okay?”
“I’m fine. Go solve a homicide.”
She rushes out the front door and locks it behind her, but you stand and double-check it anyway. Your phone is empty of notifications, and you can only wait until Tim arrives. After you settle beside Kojo again, you give him your attention. You and he freeze simultaneously when your phone chimes on the coffee table.
Unknown Walk outside or you will cost them everything.
You read it twice before you realize what he’s asking you to do. The moment you step out in the open, he can do anything and everything he wants. But you look around and see the life Tim and Angela have built for themselves and know that you can’t do anything to jeopardize that or their safety. So, you quickly shepherd Kojo into a bedroom and lock the door before slowly flipping the locks on the front door and stepping out into the Los Angeles night. The sun recently set, but there’s enough light you can see someone standing at the corner of the yard. Tim can’t be more than a few minutes away, but his thirty-minute estimation feels like an eternity.
“Los Angeles,” Brent says before laughing. “I knew you’d run somewhere you could hide but the city of angels? You, baby, were never going to fit in here.”
“What do you want?” you ask, willing your voice to be strong.
Brent smiles and you take a step back as he moves closer. You stumble against the sidewalk behind you, and Brent surges forward to wrap a cruel hand around your arm. He twists your skin with his grip, and everything about his touch is the opposite of Tim’s. For the first time since you met Brent, you fight back. Your free hand makes contact with his jaw, but he recovers quickly and shoves you to the ground.
Pulling your knees up, you try to create momentum to knock Brent off of you, but he pushes your legs down and shoves the heel of his hand between your ribs. The air is driven from your lungs, but you know you can’t stop fighting. When Brent moves his hands, so one is holding your face and the other is reaching for something in his waistband, you panic. You need Tim, but he’s a call away, and you left your phone inside.
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“Domestic dispute and assault in progress at…”
Tim doesn’t hear anything past Angela’s address, and he hits the lights as he makes the final turn onto her street. Several neighbors are gathered on the opposite side of the street and watching an altercation in Angela’s front yard when he reaches the curb. A woman screams, and Tim slams the shop into park when he sees the glint of a gun being pulled. He opens the shop door and immediately ducks as a shot is fired. “L.A.P.D. Put down the weapon!” he yells from behind his open door.
He calls your name, but there’s no sound. No reply, no calls or screams from the neighbors, and Tim peeks around the door. Slowly, the gun is tossed to the side and the man, your ex, slowly clambers onto his hands and knees. When he sits back and puts his hands up, Tim has a clear view of you lying on the ground. There’s blood on your face, and you’re not moving, so Tim rushes forward. Two more police cars join Tim’s shop, but his complete focus is on you. He kneels beside you and pushes two fingers against your pulse point.
“I’m okay,” you whisper when you feel Tim’s skin on yours.
Tim sighs and drops his head before wrapping his arms around your shoulders and pulling your torso off the ground and into a hug. You return his tight grip as he sits on the sidewalk and holds you close. Two other officers handcuff Brent and put him in the back of a cruiser, and you’re surprised but pleased with the lack of threats directed toward you.
“Sergeant Bradford, the weapon was discharged, but the bullet was fired into a tree. CSU will gather data for ballistics,” an officer tells Tim quickly.
His grip tightens on you at the mention of the gunshot, and you sigh against his shoulder. As you lean up, he gets a better look at the bruise under your jaw and the fresh blood pooling against the older, dried blood under your nose. He moves you gently so he can stand and calls for a paramedic.
“Tim, I’m fine,” you say with a painful chuckle.
“Respectfully, I want a second opinion,” he replies. “And then we’re going home.”
“Don’t forget Kojo.”
“I’ll get him.”
“Oh, you may need a key.”
Tim furrows his brows at you but doesn’t ask what you’re talking about as he lowers beside you again. His hand in yours distracts you from the pokes and prods of the paramedics, and your mind is no longer anxious and scared, but excited to go home and remind Tim how much you appreciate his protectiveness.
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Tim doesn’t let you out of his sight or his hold from the moment you enter his house. He pulls you against him and sits on the couch, inviting Kojo to join you. You’re finally okay, and it makes it easier for both you and Tim to show the affection you’ve been avoiding.
“I don’t want to be a call away anymore,” Tim confesses softly. “Not a room away… I need to be right beside you.”
“Tim, I only asked for the separation because I had to have it. Thinking that he would come after me was concerning, but the closer I got to you, the more worried I was he’d hurt you, too.”
“I understand that, but it’s over now. So, it’s your choice again.”
You nod and tilt your bruised face up from Tim’s chest to look into his eyes. “I don’t want to be a room away either,” you whisper.
Tim smiles and brushes a gentle thumb over your cheekbone before withdrawing his touch from your face. He kisses you gently, a series of pecks more than a real kiss, before allowing you to move closer.
As you fall asleep in Tim’s arms, you’ve never felt more at home. His touch, his presence, his protectiveness, and his care make him special, and he’s the best roommate-turned-more you could have asked for.
“I love you,” Tim whispers, and you wake up faster than ever.
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a-whisper-in-the-forest · 4 months ago
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Coffees and tips
Civilian sighs as they wipe down the counter of the coffeeshop they work at. It's in a beautiful location on a not too busy street, and is known for its rather villainous clientele. Most people would turn the job down because of that last little detail, but Civilian would take villains over heroes any day.
Just the thought of their previous job at the hero-café made their skin crawl. Heroes would always assume they have some sort of special privilege. Most villains are less arrogant and leave better tips.
"Uhm, hello?” A voice brings them back to reality. “Yes?” they reply in their sweet, automatic customer service voice. “I think whatever is in the oven, is ready,” the stranger says, pointing to the oven behind the counter. “Oh, right…” they sigh, still not moving. It has been a long day.
“Maybe you should look…”
“Oh, shit!”
As they turn around, they can see smoke coming from the oven. They quickly turn it off and open it to reveal a bunch of burnt muffins. “Shit,” they swear as they put down the tray with the ruined baked goods. “I completely forgot about them.”
“Clearly,” Villain smiles at Civilian. “Would you like something else?” Civilian asks, hoping the Villain forgets about the muffins. Maybe if they change the subject, the criminal might forget this embarrassment.
“A coffee with sugar and no milk, please,” Villain answers without dropping their smile. “To go?” Civilian answers hoping the blush that is creeping up their neck quickly disappears. “No, I am waiting for someone to meet me here.”
“Oh, alright. You can pay over there and leave a tip if you'd like.” Civilian starts making the coffee and hopes that the Villain would forget about the muffins soon and just focus on their friend. They start making a plan to get rid of the burnt goods as subtle and quickly as possible. If they dump it in the trash and bring the baking tray to the kitchen they should be able to hide it from everyone. Damn it, how could they lose focus like that? They could've burned the entire café down. They were lucky Villain walked in…
They go grab Villain's receipt after they gave them their coffee and look at the amount they tipped. Their mouth falls open in shock. A 200 dollar tip on a 4 dollar coffee?! They look at Villain who found a comfortable spot in the meantime. Villain smiles back and winks at them. “I felt like you could use a little something to brighten your day!” They say loudly from their seat.
Civilian doesn't have time to answer as a new customer walks in. Unlike the Villain, this person has an arrogance in their step that makes Civilian hate them immediately. Arrogance that is peculiar to heroes. Even if they don't like them, they don't let it be known. Their sweet customer service voice gives nothing away. “Welcome! What can I get you today?”
The Hero in front of them gives an annoyed glare. “You can give me a coffee with almond, goat and cashew milk. Throw in 3 pumps of vanilla, 5 pumps of espresso, 2 tablespoons of honey and 1 teaspoon of demerara sugar.” Civilian has a slight seizure trying to understand the order. “Sure…right away. You can pay over there and leave a tip if you'd like,” they anwer, gesturing to the terminal. Hero huffs and gets their card out of their wallet. Meanwhile, Civilian is trying to find all the ingredients to Hero's coffee. Why were heroes always so specific about their coffee? Why couldn't they keep it simple like the villains? Villains were so much easier to work for. Plus, they got paid a lot more.
They finish the coffee and take a look at the receipt. A 11 dollar coffee with… no tip. They threw Hero an angry look. Oh, they definitely prefer villains.
A few minutes later they finish cleaning the burnt tray and walk out of the kitchen to see Hero yelling at Villain. Villain on the other hand, is just sitting grinning smugly at the Hero. “Ugh! I can't believe this!” They cry out and storm off. Civilian watches as Hero almost runs out of the street. Villain is just laughing silently to themselves. After they finish their coffee they walk back to the counter, both theirs and Hero's mug in hand.
“Thanks for the amazing coffee. I hope I see you around, you do a great job,” Villain says as they place the mugs on the counter. “Thanks,” Civilian mutters. “Hey, what was going on between you and Hero?” They ask. They rarely see a Hero freak out like that in public. “Oh, they are just mad that their sidekick chose our side. They asked me to bring them back to the Agency but I refused. They'll get over it, don't worry.” Villain answers casually. “Well, see you later!” They say over their shoulder as they leave.
It's only when Civilian is cleaning up the mugs that they find the money Villain left alongside a note:
Sorry for Hero. Take the money as an apology for the yelling and as their tip. I will have to come back soon though because now I've got a taste and want more.
Yours truly
Villain
Why does the possible return of the Villain make them feel something funny in their stomach?
Part 2
Hi! This one has been laying around for a long time and I finally decided to finish it. I struggled a bit at first but I think I like the way it came out. (I'm probably going to hate it tomorrow, but that's a problem for later)
My asks are open for any requests! I did one recently and I absolutly loved doing it. So please, give me something to write!
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nsharks · 2 years ago
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HC of Ghost and his gf/wife fighting pls?
a relationship with simon is far from easy
Simon comes home that first night while you’re asleep.
Kicks off his boots by the door and doesn’t even bother changing out of his uniform when he slips into bed beside you. You hadn’t seen him in six months, and you really wanted to pick him up from the airport, but he’d insisted gruffly over the phone that’d he find his own way home.
“Are you sure? You’re going to be tired-“
“Don’t,” he’d breathed on the other side. “Don’t push this. I’ll get a cab.”
You should’ve known right then and there what version of Simon was coming home to you. It was strange, almost like he didn’t want to see you.
You wake up when he gets in the bed, but his body feels cold and foreign next to you. He’s still clothed, and you imagined that he might wake you up to at least give you a kiss, but instead he says nothing. Just lays there, eyes closed, and you’re almost certain he’s pretending to be asleep so you don’t try talking to him.
Things only get worse from there.
Over the next few days, Simon lives up to his name. He’s uncomfortably quiet around you, except to complain about small, stupid things.
“I told you not to go through my stuff while I was gone,” he had grumbled one day. Noticing that you had moved one of his books from his bedside table.
“It was just that one book,” you’d said quietly. “I was trying to clean up before you-“
“‘Don’t go through my stuff’ means don’t touch anything. Is that understood?”
Your tongue poked your cheek. You didn’t want to push his buttons. “Understood. Sorry.”
You try your best to give him space.
But Simon’s presence is starting to get suffocating. He hasn’t kissed you once since coming home. You’d try asking him how his time was, if anything had happened that he wanted to talk about, but he’d just shake his head in irritation and say there’s nothing to talk about.
One evening, you come home from work after grabbing some takeout for dinner.
Simon’s in the bedroom when you arrive. Large frame hunched over his desk, headphones clamped over his masked ears, and the music is so loud you can hear it from the doorway.
“Babe, I brought dinner,” you tell him, tapping his shoulder.
He tenses from your touch but nods, shucking off the headphones and following you to the kitchen.
You don’t even get the chance to eat before he’s looking at you intently, asking, “Did you remember to grab the thing for my car?”
His car. You freeze by the kitchen counter. You’d completely forgotten; he’d asked you to get… something because his car hadn’t been working for him since he got back. You told him to just take it to the shop but he said could fix it himself.
“What thing again?” you practically squeak.
The air shifts. “The breaker bar.”
“No… no, I didn’t. I’m sorry.”
You’re expecting it at this point, but that doesn’t make it any less uncomfortable. Simon snaps. You see it in his eyes, a darkness flashing through them that you don’t see often. His hands roll up at his sides.
“Do you… know how to listen?” he asks coldly, voice low. “I told you where to find it and everything. You said you would.”
“I’ll get it tomorrow-“
“That’s not the point. First, you…” he’s shaking his head to himself, “First, you touch my stuff after I told you not to. And yesterday, you didn’t listen to me about-“
“Simon,” you cut him off, frowning. “I am not perfect. I make mistakes.”
“Well, you wouldn’t make so many mistakes if you just did what you’re told.”
His voice is at a level that makes you shiver. You normally love the sound of his voice, miss it like crazy when he leaves, but right now, it’s hurting you. Making your eyes turn damp and the hairs on your arms stand up.
“Don’t talk to me like that,” you find the strength to snap at him. “You’re overreacting, Simon.”
“Overreacting?” He scoffs and you can see the veins on his forearms ticking. “This is more than… Do you know what happens when people make stupid mistakes? They fuckin’ die.”
In the back of your mind, you realize that Simon is unintentionally admitting to you what’s bothering him. Something happened. Something awful, something even he couldn’t just forget, and he brought it all the way home with him. Been taking it out on you all week long.
And on any other day, you might have had the patience to deal with it. But today, your durable patience is cracking at every seam, unable to handle the way he’s been treating you.
“Jesus, Simon, this isn’t a life or death situation,” you furrow your brows. “I’m not a soldier.”
“Thank god you’re not,” he barks. “You’d get everyone killed. Can’t follow simple fuckin’ instructions.”
“What are you trying to say? What, Simon? That I’m stupid?”
“Fuckin’ hell,” he breathes out through flared nostrils. “Maybe you are.”
Your patience is nowhere to be found as his words hang in the air. Hurt, and beyond fed up with him, you tear your wet eyes away from his darkened ones and walk away to the bedroom, locking the door behind you because you don’t want to be anywhere near him.
Soaking the pillows with your tears, you feel defeated. Six months without him had been painful; your heart aching whenever you made yourself a cup of tea, wishing he was there. You’d been so worried about him coming home, but now that he’s here, you wish he wasn’t. It feels hard to breathe, even as your tears dry and you lay there depleted.
You hear the shower run.
You hear shuffling around outside, somewhere in the living room.
Then finally, sometime after midnight, there’s the gentlest of knocks at the door.
“Can I come in?” a low voice hesitates on the other side.
You sit up on the bed and tell him yes. Once Simon’s in the room, the sight of him brings tears to your eyes once again. You thought you were done crying. You keep wiping at your cheeks, but he kneels in front of you and grabs your hands, replacing them with his own as he brushes his thumbs to your tears. It’s uncharacteristic of him to get on his knees like this. Submitting to you in remorse.
“Sorry,” he whispers. He bows his head. “I’ve been awful. You deserve… s’much better.”
“I can handle you ignoring me,” you croak. “I can’t handle you being mean, Simon.”
“No,” he narrows his eyes. “Don’t. You shouldn’t have to handle either of those.”
You nod in agreement as his hands splay over your thighs and rub them gently.
“Something’s hurting you,” you whisper carefully. “Something happened. Maybe… maybe you need to talk to someone.”
Hours ago, you might’ve worried about what he’d say. But now, his anger has dissipated, washed away by the hot shower he took and the sound of your crying in the bedroom. It pained him. He hated himself for not knowing how to deal with these feelings without being a dick to you.
Finally, head falling to your lap, he says, “Maybe I do.”
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schrodingers-romy · 6 months ago
Text
Jilted (not) Lover [Mitsuya Takashi x Reader]
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Pairing: Mitsuya Takashi x GN!Reader Word Count: ~2,100 [Ao3 Link]
Summary: Takashi is your best friend (who you have some more than friendly feelings for); so you don't understand why he never seems to want to spend time with you anymore.
Warnings: mild misunderstandings, kissing, no gendered terms for reader; reader is a bit insecure, and Takashi is a little less emotionally mature than normal.
Notes: wasn't feeling good so I finally sat down and wrote an idea I've had for a while. Probably needs more editing but I want to let it finally fly free
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You thought nothing of barging into your best friend’s room; after all, he gave you a spare key for a reason. “Takashi!” you called excitedly. “They let me off work early today! Do you wanna maybe go out and do something? I heard there was a new—”
You were cut off before you could even finish. “I’m sorry,” Takashi said, not even bothering to raise his eyes from the patterns in front of him. “I really need to finish this today.”
“Oh,” you said, deflating slightly. “Well, I could just hang around here if you want some company. I can help too!”
Still, you received barely any acknowledgement. “I’ve got it, I just need to focus. I’ll see you later, though.”
Your smile felt brittle. “Okay, sounds good. I’ll go see Yuzuha then. Don’t forget to show me your new design when you’re done.”
The door clicked shut softly behind you.
Later, you heard from Yuzuha that Takashi went out to the arcade with Hakkai that same day. You were hurt, but you wanted to think the best. Takashi probably just finished early and assumed you were busy. It was nothing.
Except it wasn’t.
-
Ever since the two of you met in middle school, you had never gone more than a few days without hanging out. Throughout high school you basically lived at his house, becoming almost like another sibling to his sisters. Even once you both graduated and got different jobs, the two of you spent most of your free time together. (Enough time together for you to develop a horrible infatuation with him, at the very least.)
And yet, for two weeks straight Takashi had been completely blowing you off.
He was always busy with last minute designs, or he had to take his sisters to something, or he already had plans with Draken or Hakkai or the old Toman members. Normally, he would ask you to tag along, but he barely talked to you other than to let you know he couldn’t see you or spend time with you.
You never said anything, keeping a nonchalant tone around him. But god, did it hurt. You didn’t know what you did wrong to deserve this treatment; you couldn’t remember anything. Maybe he had just finally gotten tired of you and was trying to let you down easy.
You did your best to ignore those thoughts. It’s Takashi, you thought. If there was something wrong, he would communicate with you. It was probably nothing. (You needed to tell yourself that to keep from breaking down.)
-
Even though your relationship with Takashi was at a standstill, you still talked to his sisters.
Today, you had come over to make the girls lunch before they left to go hang out with their friends. Takashi hadn’t come out from his room when you called.
[“It’s fine,” you said, “I know he’s busy.”
The girls gave each other a look when they thought you weren’t paying attention. At least these Mitsuyas noticed something was up, you thought bitterly.]
They were long gone, after thanking you for the food and each giving you an awkward teenager hug on the way out. You have the rest of the day free, so you take your time cleaning the dishes, in the pathetic hope that Takashi will come out and you two will go back to normal.
You think that your prayers are answered when you see him come down the stairs. He seems a little surprised to see you still there, and he gives you a small, distracted smile. Your heart flutters as you smile back.
You think he’s coming towards you, but he walks right by the kitchen and heads towards the door instead. “Thanks for making lunch for the girls. I’m sure it was great,” he says, lingering for a moment. “You can leave the rest of the dishes; I’ll get them when I come back.”
“Oh. Where are you going?” you ask. You can hear a nearly imperceptible buzzing in your ears. You wonder if you’re angry or just sad; it’s hard to tell sometimes.
“Just out with Draken. I’ll see you later, yeah?” He’s already opening the door to leave.
You try to keep your composure, but the way you slam the plate as you set it on the counter is telling. “Yeah. See you later, I guess.” You wince. Even to your own ears, you sound bitchy. And you were doing so well in keeping it straight...  
There is a second of hesitation, and then the door closes. You busy yourself with drying the remaining dishes, not bothering to look up. Takashi probably left already.
But then you hear his footsteps as he comes into the kitchen. “Hey, what’s wrong?” he asks.
You still don’t look at him. You hate how concerned he sounds. Because of course he noticed how snotty you sounded; it wasn’t subtle. And Takashi was nothing if not a mediator, so he would obviously want to talk it out. But now, even after praying for the barest scrap of his attention back, you want nothing more than for him to leave you alone. You aren’t ready for whatever sort of conversation this is going to be.
On one hand, you are still hurt by how he treated you, how he hung out with you less and less as he replaced you with Draken and Hakkai. On the other hand, you feel like you’re being nothing but a spoiled brat. Takashi doesn’t owe you anything; he’s nice, so this is probably his own way of letting you know that you were too clingy and that he needed space while trying to spare your feelings. You just don’t want to hear that out loud.
At this point, you can feel yourself getting worked up. Your own thoughts buzz in your head like a swarm of angry locusts, rattling to the ever-quickening beat of your heart in your ears. You don’t quite know if you want to cry or scream.
He’s right in front of you now; you can see his shoes sidle up next to your slipper-clad feet on the kitchen floor as you valiantly avoid eye contact.
“C’mon, talk to me,” he says, voice softening even more. Because of course he can tell you are getting more upset.
“Just go,” you say. You sound muffled in your own ears. “Go hang out with Draken, or Hakkai, or your other gang friends. I’m fine. Leave me alone.”
“I’m not leaving until you tell me what’s up.”
“Oh, now that I want you to leave me alone, you won’t.”
“Hey, what is that supposed to mean?” He sounds a little offended now, and that just makes you angrier.
You spin around to face him for the first time. You can see how his eyebrows furrow, purple eyes glistening with concern as they take in your expression.
You lose your grip on your emotions. “Oh, what does that mean? I mean you’ve been ditching me for weeks now! Every time I come around, you’re too busy, or you already have plans with someone else!” You take a deep breath, trying to rein yourself in. “Look, if you don’t want to be around me anymore, just say something. Not any of this ‘hinting’ bullshit. Just…just say something…because I honestly don’t know what’s going on, Takashi.”
Your anger burnt through you quickly, like a flashfire, and you can feel your eyes starting to water.
Takashi looks stricken. One of his hands comes up to grip yours, using it to pull you into a tight hug. It only takes one murmur of your name, spoken gently into your hair as he tucks your head underneath his chin, for you to fully break.
There are tears streaming down your face now. You start to babble. “You’re my best friend, Takashi,” you say, pitifully. “I miss you.”
You feel his arms tighten around you, until you can almost feel your bones grinding together. It kind of hurts, but you are just happy to be held. His grip loosens soon enough, and he pulls back so he can look you in the eyes.
“I fucked up.” He smiles sadly at you. “I never wanted to make you feel like that. You’re my best friend too…but I couldn’t stay like that, and I didn’t know what to do about it.”
You feel your heart drop; you don’t understand. “What’re you trying to say?”
He lets out a sigh, and then reaches to clasp both your hands in his. His eyes dart around the room, nervously, before settling back onto yours. There is a quiet intensity in them that he only has when things are serious. “I want to be more than friends. I like you…romantically. I realized it a few weeks ago…you were always so special to me, and I didn’t understand why until Draken pointed it out to me.”
He let out a light chuckle. “I treated you differently than I did everyone else because I had—have—a crush on you. I didn’t know what to do about it, so I started avoiding you. I thought I would blurt out something that would ruin our friendship. I didn’t think about how it would affect you. I’m so sorry.”
You can’t believe what you’re hearing. It seems so inconceivable that he would return your feelings. You don’t even know what to say, so you focus on the end of his short speech. “So much for being the emotionally intelligent one, huh?” you say, tone lighter than it has been this whole time.
He lets out a self-deprecating laugh, tilting his head down. “Yeah, yeah. Guess I’m better with other people’s problems than my own. But cut me some slack, this is the first time I’ve been in love with someone before.”
You freeze. “Love?”
He already told you he had a crush on you, but this brings your thoughts to a halt. Love is a much more serious claim than a simple crush.
Takashi seems to think so as well. His face shutters. It’s clear he didn’t mean to say that much, but he doesn’t back down. “Yeah. Love. But it’s okay you don’t feel the same way. I’m good with just being friends. Or whatever makes you comfortable. Um. I owe you that much after being such a shithead, huh?” He looks uncomfortable, like he is just waiting for you to reject him. Like it’s inevitable.
You give him a sharp flick on the nose. “Idiot. Who says I don’t feel the same way.”
“…You do?”
You let out a snort, fighting to keep a grin off your face. “Like I wasn’t pining after you for years. God, Takashi, I follow you like a lovesick puppy, and you didn’t catch a hint?”
You open your mouth to say something else, but you’re swept back into his arms before you can. The two of you are face to face now; from here, you get the full force of his blinding grin. He’s smiling so wide that his eyes are nothing more than crescents of purple, his pretty eyelashes nearly brushing his cheeks. He looks breathtaking.
You break out into your own smile, unable to keep the happiness off your face. You feel so light, lighter than you have in a long time. The knowledge that Takashi loves you is like a shot of dopamine straight to your brain; you feel nearly delirious from the sudden rush of happiness.
“I love you,” he says. He sounds so tender when he says it, you can’t help but tilt your head up to press a kiss to his lips. It’s nothing more than a peck, but the touch of his soft mouth against yours sends sparks through your body.
“I love you too,” you say.
He looks at you in awe, before he leans down to steal another kiss from your lips, this one longer, and deeper.
You never want to leave; you would happily spend forever standing in the middle of his kitchen, trading heartfelt kisses and basking in the warmth of your love with Takashi.
-
(Draken wonders what happened to Mitsuya; he missed their hangout without so much as a “can’t make it” text. He can only hope the other boy finally got the balls to confess his feelings to you. He loves his sworn brother, but he’s getting tired of seeing Mitsuya avoid you. And he is definitely getting tired of hearing his lovesick ramblings. Well, if the two of you haven’t gotten together by now, Draken supposes he could always go with Yuzuha’s plan to lock the both of you in a closet until you worked things out.)
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luveline · 11 months ago
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hiii, can you do something for aaron comforting pregnant!reader? just lots of comfort and softness (ily<3)
You thought you liked being pregnant. Aaron says you're as beautiful as you've ever been, and there's something comforting about the bump forming. The knowledge that you have a new love so close, maybe. 
But there's something off about it too. Your body isn't solely yours, or that's the way it feels, and though you'd never wish for the baby to be away from you before it's time, you'd like a break. He's a heavy weight to carry, your little Hotchner. He makes your back hurt, your legs ache. Your hands shake before breakfast every day and the morning sickness gets old.
The hormones are intense, too. All in all, you're overwhelmed. It affects everything you do. 
A dropped cup becomes something else. 
“You okay?” Aaron asks. 
You've broken a glass before, you've done it twice in his kitchen alone, but this time it's the last straw. You bend down to clean it up, realise you can't really bend, and then that you can't do it without gloves anyhow. “What am I doing?” you say, your voice dripping with disdain. 
“What are you doing?” Aaron asks, quieter now. “I'll do it. Sit down.” 
He doesn't speak without love. In fact, you'd say that the very infrastructure of his voice is imbued with affection, like every sentence could end in a pet name. 
“I can do it.” You shake your head. “I can't do anything. I'm useless, I'm–” worthless, you want to say. Completely worthless, nothing to give, hardly functioning, and now you can barely clean up after yourself. 
You squeeze your hands together and take a few steps back. Aaron meets your eyes unflinching, impossible to look away from as he follows you, closing the gap. 
“You're not useless. You're less agile than usual for good reason.” 
“I'm useless,” you repeat, self-hatred (not hatred, something different, more pitying, more shameful) thick on the tongue. 
“Honey. You're not useless.” 
“I am.” The first tear wells and races down your cheek within the same second. Your lip begins trembling. “I can't do anything anymore.” 
“You think so?” he asks gently. 
“I can't do it,” you say. 
Your voice breaks. Aaron doesn't need much more instruction, gathering you into his arms for a hug, the bump of your stomach no match for his height. “It's okay,” he says, again so gently, “it's okay.”  
“It's not.” You cry and it aches. You cry like a little kid, wildly out of control of your life. 
“It is, honey, it is. I know… it's not only a glass. You've been rearing up to this for a while.” 
You cry harder, wrists crossed around his back and your face rammed hard into his neck. It must hurt. You're trying to hide from the ache of your panic but there isn't anywhere to go —you're pregnant and you want to be, but you're trapped, too. 
“Aw, I don't know what's wrong with me,” you choke out, spluttering into his collar. 
He doesn't complain. “Nothing–” 
“I know it's not easy–” 
“–is wrong with you. Exactly. It's not easy.” He's calm in the face of your bleeding heart. “Honey, this is one of the hardest things a person can do, and that alone means you're the opposite of useless right now. You're making a big change, a sacrifice, to bring someone new into the world.” 
He pulls your face back from his neck with a kind hand. “Your baby doesn't think you're useless. I can tell you that for sure.” 
“I wish I could take a break,” you admit, shamefaced.”I'm such a bad mom already.” 
He doesn't agree. It's in the line of his mouth, the stillness of his gaze. Aaron takes your hand from his back and pulls it slowly to your stomach, flattening your fingers over the very apex of its hill, his own warm and large covering it surely. “You're not a bad mom, not even close. I don't think so, the baby doesn't think so.” He smiles. “Jack certainly doesn't think so.” 
You take a deep breath. “Really?” 
“Jack couldn't have asked for a better step mom, honey. Wanting a break from the side effects doesn't mean you don't love him, does it?” 
Him as in the baby, the heartbeat, the little head and arms and legs, the tiny brain. Wanting a break from your pregnancy and its constant barrage of symptoms doesn't make you a bad mom. 
“You aren't useless,” Aaron says, rubbing the back of your hand with his thumb. “You're my partner, and you're his mother, and if you can't do some of the things you'd usually do right now, that's okay, because I'm here to do them for you.” 
That makes you cry more. Aaron drops his face to yours and presses your noses together, shushing your sobs. You, much less composed, grasp at the swell of your stomach. “Sorry,” you say in a weak whisper, hot all over and not sure how to cope. “I'm sorry, baby.” 
“You don't need to say sorry to him. He's the one at fault, anyway.” 
A laugh slips past your lips before you can think about it. “Don't say that.” 
“No?” Aaron pulls away, taking the fat of your arm into his hand. “I suppose it could be my fault. But it was your idea.” 
“No it wasn't.” 
“No, it wasn't,” he says, his fingers sliding a slow path down to your elbow, “but you do want this, don't you?”
“Of course I do.” 
Your quick answer makes him smile. He wipes your wet cheeks dry with an infinite carefulness, thumb trailing down the apple of your cheek to catch a last little tear. “Let me sit you down, sweetheart. I bet you feel even more tired than you did to begin with.” 
Pregnancy isn't always (or really often) fun, nor is crying your eyes out into the unfailing arms of your husband (though that had it's redeeming factors, mainly the smell of him, and the way he held you like he knew exactly how to make it all better), but you feel better for it, rather than worse as he's suggesting. Still, you soak up Aaron's quiet doting, a hand pressed to your baby bump as he kisses the side of your head. 
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sorcerous-caress · 11 months ago
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Heyyy!! Could I request the companions taking care of a new baby + a toddler while their partner recovers?
Taking care of the kids while you recover
[Fluff, marriage, raising kids, nb!reader]
[Astarion, Wyll, Gale]
I'm not feeling the best rn so I did just three, i hope you enjoy anon.
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Astarion
Seeing that this is your second baby together, he feels less out of his element now. He is more confident in his ability to care for this little bundle of joy with pointy ears cradled in his arms.
He almost doesn't recognise his own self these days. When did his sharp edges grow so soft? When did he become so tender, and when did his eyes become so round and happy?
When you proposed to him that day in the underdark, when you presented him with a modest ring that made him go speechless. He has seen many more glamorous ones, much more expensive ones, but somehow, this simple band with the most precious gem completely took his breath away.
That's how he ended here on this cozy couch with a silver haired toddler running around enthusiastically. Astarion calls them over to gently wipe some crumbs from their face, looking at their innocent adoring eyes.
They had your eyes, he couldn't help but squeeze their adorable cheeks and give them a kiss on the forehead like any dotting father would.
Him, a doting parent? That idea would've made him choke with laughter some years ago.
The ring glimers on his finger as he holds the newborn baby closer to his chest, humming a soothing melody in elvish for his second child. The first stared at him from the side with a pout.
His child was so obvious with their emotions that Astarion couldn't help but chuckle, "Jealously isn't a good look darling, come here." With that, he had another kid cuddling up to him and demanding a lullaby too.
Astarion obliged, relieved that his presence seemed enough for his children at the moment while you were recovering. Part of him was anxious about what if they only wanted you? What if they weren't as attached to him as he thought?
He was never happier to be proven wrong in his life.
Wyll
The sun shines brightly through the thin white curtains in the kitchen. Wyll is mixing together a baby formula on the counter, measuring the right amount on the spoon as he scoops away the extra powder from the top.
Adding the powder into the baby bottle, he gently shakes the warm bottle. The sound of light footsteps approach him in a failed attempt of stealth as a toy wooden sword is pressed against the back of his legs.
"Surrender!" A high voice calls from behind him, his very own kid with determination in their eyes as they press the dull edge of the sword more against Wyll's pants.
"Oh noble hero, may I know what crime am i being accused of before I surrender?" Wyll plays along, a smile painting his lips.
"The crime of!!" His child starts with confidence, "of...." trailing into uncertainty as their grip on the sword falters.
Wyll is patient as he lets them have the time to gather their thought. cleaning and wiping the counter down.
"Of not giving me food!"
"Didn't you just eat your breakfast after stealing my breakfast?" Wyll scooped up his child up in his arm, holding him with one hand while carrying the bottle with the other. His kid kicked their feet in the air as they dropped the wooden sword.
"But dad!! That was hours ago, I'm hungry."
"I clearly recall it being minutes ago."
Moving to the living room where his youngest laid peacefully sleeping in their small rocking bed, Wyll let go of his hold just as he sat on the couch.
Climbing into his lap, the most adorable brown puppy eyes looked up at him. "I want pancakes please" stretching on the end of the word, his kid whined.
With a defeated smile, Wyll agreed to it. Knowing you'd scold him for spoiling the kids too much if you were here right now, still he was weak against them. Somehow, his own kids were more persuasive than any devil this warlock has ever encountered before.
Gale
"There you go, all dry and clean" he said as he started to put on the baby bear onesie back on the giggling infant in front of him, their small hands gripping on Gale's beard with surprising strength as he zipped them up.
Yet the discomfort barely mattered to the wizard, he happily let them play with his face as he admired how adorable they looked in the fluffy animal custom. Smiling and giving their belly a soft kiss to make them laugh even louder.
The loud crash from outside the room barely phased him either as he kept coddling the infant, calling them endearing names and cradling them in his arms. "Papa's here, no need to fret."
"MR.DEKARIOS!" Tara's screech followed shortly after, "your presence is required immediately!"
Still too busy entranced by how adorable his child was, Gale took slow steps out of the room, contouring harmless light tricks to impress his youngest.
The sight that met him was one that would've probably given his younger self a heart attack no doubt, the countless torn pages of books thrown around the floor, the spilled ink and the crumbled magical scrolls.
But as the years went by, he found himself mellowing out much more. Very few things phased him by now, especially with how ironic life tended to be. The fates must be snickering right now. to give him a kid with wild magic in their veins, brimming with sorcery from such a young age.
You usually kept them in line, Gale was too guilty of being an enbaler as you've put it. It's not his fault he thought his kid was the coolest person in all the realms.
"Books are for losers!" Ah, there they stood, his own flesh and blood. Amidst the chaos of papers and magic, a potted plant.
A talking potted plant.
"Did your magic surge again?" Gale could only feel amusement as he leaned down to pick up his child, making sure to hold it far away from his other child so they don't nibble on the leaves of their sibling.
It seemed like both his cat and his child prefered to continue their argument. "Why, I have never heard such nonsense before! Mr.Dekarios, would you please get your spawn in line." Tara, his beloved elegant tressym, was flying around him in an attempt to smack the plant with her soft paws.
With a giggling wobbling infant on his right arm and a potted plant polymorphed kid on his left, Gale effortlessly casted the necessary incantations to reverse the polymorph while avoiding Tara's claws.
A poof of sparkling light filled the room as a full toddler replaced the potted plant, Tara blinded by the light, crashed into them and they all stumbled down onto stacks of torn papers.
The three of them buried under the pile, only the fluffy bear onsie wearing emerged unharmed on top.
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thebearer · 1 year ago
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hi e! back again with more carmy shit because i love the way you did my little blurb justice 🥰. i literally just envisioned sydney minding her own business and just recklessly placing carmy in the hot seat cause she knew his ass was gon get it 😂. i’m all in for more dom!carmy so i’d love to keep the idea going that his s/o works for/with/alongside him at the bear with a touch of her giving him her two cents? a little bit of sass to just remind who he’s dealing with 😩. maybe this time around he slipped up on something major (a birthday, anniversary, or something that overall was important to the reader and he put it off because in his mind the bear comes first). she’s been slowly driving him crazy with that silent treatment she’s been doing for the last few days and her less than a few syllabled words when he doesn’t remind her how irked he made her 😂; she’s not mad anymore just disappointed. and anyway basically in a prep for preordered to go’s on lunch rush he’s reading back orders to her and she completely writes him off. i can see him being like exactly how he when he’s not getting when he needs from his staff during a frenzy and flipping tf out. like you know when he repeats himself a second time as if you didn’t hear him the first he means it 😂. tysm in advance! please feel free to do whatever you’d like. i’m writing this at 6 in the morning so many ideas are coming into the fold. i hope you have a great day - 🥣.
ok i did sorta a different-ish take. same idea but i don't write the reader as a chef bc quite honestly i can't relate lmao i'm a horrendous cook lol. but silent treatment yes!! reader works at the bear but not a chef.
"Does anyone know where the extra napkins are? Mindy needs to be settin' tables." Carmen huffed, slamming the empty crate back in the back stock.
"That would be your missus' domain." Richie snickers, elbowing Fak lightly. "Guess you better go ask her, Cousin."
"Yeah? Fuck off. Thought it was your fuckin' job." Carmen grumbled, running a hand through his hair.
"Me? Fuck no, Cousin. You know who's job it is, c'mon." Richie grinned. "It's your wife, Carm. What? Scared to talk to your wife?"
Carmen sneered, huffing in annoyance, but the truth was... yes, he was a little scared. Especially with how furious you were at him. Carmen was a chronic over worker, barely taking time for himself. It was a constant fight between the two of you, one he'd gotten better at, but still struggled finding that balance. Which normally, you'd be more forgiving about.
Except it was your anniversary.
Carmen left you waiting at home, dressed up with a new lingerie set that he painfully didn't get to enjoy. By the time he got off, taking his time to clean the kitchen, prep for tomorrow's crowd, he looked at his phone and saw your texts and calls, his heart dropping.
You'd been giving him the cold shoulder since then, furious and hurt- or so he assumed, you wouldn't say anything.
Richie found the entire thing hilarious when Carmen told him. "You forgot your fuckin' anniversary? You jagoff, holy shit."
Carmen found it less than amusing. The tension in the restaurant was thick because of the two of you. Everyone teetering around you, but especially Carmen, he was more on edge now.
Pushing the door open to the office, Carmen ducked his head in, seeing you at his desk- your desk, technically, you used it more. "Hey, honey," Carmen's voice was soft, a sweet hum that had your spine straightening. He flinched lightly, stepping towards you. "D'you know where the extra napkins are?"
You didn't reply, simply typing on your laptop, editing a video for the social media page about the upcoming summer specials.
Carmen blinked, barking out your name in a much harsher than he meant to, but it seemed to work. Kinda. Your head whipped around, eyes in a burning glare when they met his, but your lips were still pressed together.
Carmen through his hands out in exasperation. "Are you bein' fuckin' serious with me?"
Richie made his way towards the table where Tina was doing prep, craning his neck to watch. Your lips twisted, glaring harshly at Carmen. Carmen huffed, a hand running over his forehead. "What do you want from me, huh? What? You're just never gonna speak to me again? I forgot, ok? I didn't mean to, I just fuckin' forgot! I was at work!"
You glared at him, feeling Richie's amused gaze from over Carmen's shoulder, the rest of the staff pretending to be busy to hear. "Shut the door." You snapped.
Carmen flinched, shocked. "What-"
"Shut the fuckin' door, now." You snapped, slamming your laptop, turning to face him. Carmen pressed the door shut, ignoring Richie's whines of "c'mon, Cousin, it was just gettin' good!".
The two of you stared, neither being the first to talk, not wanting to break. You huffed, rolling your eyes in annoyance. "You wanted to talk, talk, Carmen. I've got shit to do."
"Hey," Carmen's eyes flashed at you, his tone hard with an edge of warning. "You better watch your-"
"-No, you better watch your mouth with me. Watch what you say to me, Berzatto." You snapped, pointing a finger at him. "This isn't a fuckin' game, alright? I'm mad at you. Actually fuckin' mad at you."
Carmen's stomach turned, swallowing the guilt rising with the bile in his throat. "I... I'm sorry-"
"-Sorry isn't going to work this time, Carmen. It's always sorry. Always I didn't fuckin' mean to, I got busy." You snapped, arms wrapping over your torso. "You always do this, but our anniversary? You forgot our anniversary?"
"No, I didn't forget." Carmen ran a hand down his face. "I got you flowers and-and the bracelet-"
"-And that was very nice, Carmen, but you weren't there." You snapped, the finality in his tone making his rebuttal dissolve in his mouth. The hurt in your eyes, rounding and pitiful, soft and pleading with him. You were angry, but you were hurt, too.
His shoulders deflated, breath leaving his lungs. "You're right," Carmen nodded slowly. "No, you're-you're right, and-and-and I'm... Fuck, I'm so sorry, baby." Carmen said sincerely, eyes shining with sincerity. "I... I got caught up and I-I shouldn't have even been working that day, I just..."
"I know." You muttered, looking down at the desk, a framed picture of the two of you in Copenhagen at your wedding ceremony. Carmen in his suit, you in your dress, happy and smiling with the breathtaking scenery behind you.
Carmen could feel the guilt growing in his chest, palms sweating and heart racing, the panic to fix it- to do something. "How much longer do you have?" Carmen asked, nodding towards your laptop.
"Just a few more things to edit." You looked at your paused work. "Why?"
"Let me... Let me make it right." Carmen sighed, shaking hands fumbling towards his apron.
"Carmen, you can't leave-"
"-Yeah, yeah, I can." Carmen nodded, pulling the door out and calling for Sydney. "Can you cover tonight, Chef?"
"Uh, yeah, yeah, I can." Sydney nodded.
"I got it too, Cousin-" Carmen shut the door before he could hear Richie's full comment, sure something smart ass would be included.
"Let's go out." Carmen looked at you. "A make up. Please?"
You folded your arms, pouting lightly. "'m not dressed for going out."
"What're you talkin' about? You look beautiful, c'mon." Carmen shook his head lightly at you, shoving his clothes into his bag, pulling out his spare.
You tried not to drool at the sight of his chest. You'd missed him, you really had. It was a shame the lingerie went to waste.
Carmen pulled you out of the restaurant, hand on your waist, holding you close to his side. It wasn't the fancy reservations you'd planned, no Michelin star restaurants with expensive wine. No, instead, he took you to some a rooftop restaurant, one with the vibey aesthetic you always cooed at on Instagram. Sitting and sharing pretzels and greasy food, snuggled into Carmen's side while he ordered dessert. Giggling when he fed you the brownie sundae, tilting your head back with his fingers cradling your jaw lightly. It was simple, romantic, and fun. Made your heart swell, clinging to him the whole way home.
And when you got home? Carmen was in heaven. Letting you show him what he missed a few days earlier.
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lucy90712 · 7 months ago
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HEYYYYY CAN I PLS PLS PLS request the same football guys on ur period headcanon with a clumsy gf that js always falls and hits things and very careless with their body and stuff
Gavi: 
- To begin with it scared Pablo how clumsy you were he always notices a few new bruises on you every time he sees you and he just worries that you will seriously hurt yourself one day and he doesn't want to see that as he doesn't like to see you in pain 
- As time goes on he gets used to it and he knows that your clumsiness is just part of you and it's something he learns to love especially the little noises you make as you trip up or accidentally knock something over 
- You are always apologising when you accidentally knock over something or walk into something in Pablo's house and every time he tells you that there's no need for you to apologise but he will never be able to change that habit as everyone else in your life expects apologise for you just being the way you are 
- Pablo develops a sixth sense almost about when you are going to hurt yourself whenever you go anywhere he can just tell if you will trip over something so he tries his best to stop it happening but he can't always intervene in time but he's always there to help you up or make you feel less embarrassed 
- Sometimes Pablo protects you without realising he's doing it if you are both in the kitchen and you are bent down getting something from a cupboard Pablo will put his hand above your head so when you come back up your head hits his hand instead of the counter 
Pedri: 
- Pedri gets used to your clumsiness pretty quickly he's met plenty of people who are a bit clumsy although you are worse than all of them combined at times but that doesn't put him off as he just loves you for you 
- He likes to make jokes about your clumsiness at times but whenever he's injured you always come right back at him and that usually stops his teasing as he knows your not wrong both of you can be a bad as each other when it comes to injuries 
- Seeing as you are both quite often hurt in some way you do a lot of taking care of each other you always help Pedri with his recovery and give him massages to help his muscles and he's always cleaning your cuts or putting cream on your bruises to help them heal faster 
- He doesn't like to see you hurt especially if something hurts you a bit more than normal and causes a few tears that really upsets him as he doesn't like to see you in so much pain he always wishes he could completely take away all the pain you feel but he can't so instead he just comforts you when your hurt 
- As much as he hates seeing you in pain he weirdly loves your clumsiness it makes you unique and he loves getting to the end of the day and hearing about all of the silly things you've done throughout the day like walking into your desk that you sit at every day it always brightens his day the way you can laugh at the stupid things you do 
Jude: 
- When you first start dating and seeing more of each other Jude notices that you always come round with new bruises and straight away he worries that someone is hurting you when you go home but he doesn't mention it to begin with as he doesn't want to trigger you 
- One day when you turn up with a burn on your hand from your hair straightener he can't hold back his worries any longer and he sits you down and asks you seriously if you are ok or if anyone is hurting you that's when you explain that you are just clumsy and you tell him where all of your bruises and other injures are from which calms him down 
- Once he knows that you are ok and that no one is hurting you he feels a lot better but he's still worried that you are able to do all of this to yourself but you reassure him that you are fine and it's something you've lived with your whole life which again makes him feel a bit less worried as he knows that you are used to it all
- From that day onwards he decided that he wants to do everything that he can to protect you so that you don't end up with as many bruises because he hates to see your legs and arms covered in them 
- When he's with you he always makes sure that you don't walk into things or trip on things it's not easy as somehow you always find a way to walk into doorframes or trip on seemingly nothing but he does his best to keep you safe but if he can't he will always put bandages on your injures so that you don't make them worse 
Joao: 
- Joao can be clumsy at times and some days he's worse than others but you are like 10x worse than he is pretty much constantly most of the time you can't go the whole day without doing something anyone else would consider clumsy but you just consider it normal life 
- When you moved in with Joao he was already well aware of your clumsiness so he pretty much baby proof the house so he makes sure there isn't rugs anywhere you would walk everyday and any furniture with sharp corners have protection on them so you can't hurt yourself if you walk into them 
- To minimise the chance of serious injury Joao won't let you do anything that involves getting on a ladder without him there and even anything that involves using a sharp knife he doesn't like you to do alone but you don't mind as it means you get to do those things together which makes them more fun 
- When you have people over you try and be extra careful as you don't want to embarrass yourself but one day Joao has some people over and you accidentally trip while carrying groceries which makes his friends laugh but he gets straight up to check on you and make sure you are ok and aren't embarrassed because he truly cares about you 
- He then has to explain that you are just clumsy but that he loves that about you and his friends quickly move on from laughing especially when he tells them that you will always try harder not to seem so clumsy around other people 
Hector: 
- Hector is quick to notice that you are always tripping over things and sometimes nothing other than your own two feet when you go to his your trip on the rug every time and when you go out places any uneven part of the pavement will get you 
- Once he notices the pattern he moves the rug in his place because he doesn't want you to trip every time you come and see him especially because he sees the way you blush every time and he knows you get embarrassed and he cares a lot more about you than a rug which is just there for decoration 
- Whenever you go anywhere together he makes sure that he is always holding your hand so he can either steer you round uneven parts in the pavement or hold you up if you do trip so that you don't fall 
- You often worry that Hector won't want to be seen with you especially as he becomes more well known as you think he won't want to be associated with someone who can't stand on their own two feet properly as his teammates will make fun of him or fans will make fun him for being with you 
- Hector doesn't care at all about being seen with you he is more than happy to show you off because he loves you even if people judge him for it that won't change his feelings and he definitely won't stand for people making fun of you so he will block people on social media who make fun of you 
Marc:
- There are times that Marc doesn't know how you haven't broken a bone before he's always expecting you to be at the hospital on your nighttime FaceTime calls on the days you don't see each other but it hasn't happened yet in the years he's known you 
- He likes to joke with you and ask what new injuries you have every time he talks to you but as much as he jokes around he really does care about you so if you were to ever really hurt yourself he would be so upset or even if you just get sick of being clumsy he is always there to comfort you 
- When he's with you he does everything he can to stop you getting hurt as he never likes seeing you hurt he becomes really protective when it comes to you if he could fight the floor after it trips you up he would but he can't so instead he just tries his best to make sure you are ok 
- On the off chance he can't intervene before you hurt yourself he will baby you and take care of you for the rest of the day you won't have to lift a finger so there's no chance that you can't do anymore damage to your body 
- Even if he's not with you if you tell him that you accidentally cut yourself even if it doesn't hurt he will invite himself over to take care of you as he can't have his girlfriend hurting without him being there he has to be there to cuddle you and make you feel better 
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lyneyluv · 8 months ago
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⋆ ˚。⋆౨ৎ˚ ... 𝒅𝒂𝒏𝒄𝒆 𝒘𝒊𝒕𝒉 𝒎𝒆!
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— diluc & childe (separate).
— fluff, suggestive. archon quest spoilers. implied relationship. alcohol consumption (childe). ajax's is extensively longer ..... sry :P
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the two of you sit before the heart of a warm fire, speakers above playing sweet, smooth jazz melodies that flood your senses. whatever language the woman sings her cacophony of accidentals in, it seems to make the fire envelop you completely, leaning further into the man seated next to you.
diluc slowly rises from his spot next to you, lifting his arm from where it hung around your shoulder. standing before you, his hand traces down your arm and finds itself in the palm of your own as he intertwines his fingers with yours.
“come on,” he says in a hushed voice, nothing but warmth behind his gaze, “dance with me.”
you smile shyly under his frame and take his offer, prying yourself from the comfort of the plush couch to face your lover.
“‘luc, you know i have two left feet,” you huff out, almost too willingly giving in to his request.
he hums in response, his eyes lulling shut as his free hand finds your other and begins swaying along with the tempo surrounding you. he rests his head atop your own as you reel in the feeling of his breath against your scalp. you sway as the music continues with its piano and saxophone riffs, one song ending and another starting. you feel him smile against your hair before he removes himself from above you, taking your waist with his hand as he spins you in circles.
it’s intoxicating. you catch glimpses of his form when it comes into your view as you twirl around and around, the world seemingly stilling as you return to your place before him. your eyes rake over everything and all that he is: his broad shoulders, free from his heavy day coat, his chest adorning a simple white button-down rolled up at the sleeves, his hair cascading down his collarbones as it takes its best efforts to break free from the tie he haphazardly put it up with. you meet his vermillion eyes, a breath catching in your throat as you admire the stars that twinkle in his gaze.
suddenly, the track playing changes, switching to a more lively and upbeat song that lights up the room. a ghost of a laugh is lost on diluc’s tongue as you hop to turn the music up, the melodies getting impossibly louder as you pivot on your heels to sashay towards him, taking his hand and circling around him. the hit hats dance in your eyes as bursts of music play in the air around you. the essence of the song seeps into every pore on your skin as diluc’s scarred hands cup your jaw, his face coming so close your noses graze against one another. he drinks in the sight of you—the feeling of you—and sighs.
“you’re beautiful,” his eyes bore into yours as your arms snake around his torso, “i love you.”
...
childe never really plays music on his own, opting to listen only whenever you hit play. its not that he doesn't like it, he just can't seem to focus whenever there's something playing in the background. tonight was no different: the two of you were cleaning up the kitchen after a nice dinner when you decided it was too quiet, playing some easy listening jazz: specifically the kind you'd hear in a low-lit restaurant that serves food with way less sustenance on the plate than what you're paying for.
your hips sway as you spray and wipe the counters, gently humming along with a tune you've familiarized yourself with. your twirl around the wood floor, passing ajax every now and then as he catches you in the corner of his eye. the sultry sounds of the melodies passing through his senses compliments the half-empty bottle wine sitting on the countertop.
you pass him again but this time are stopped by his arm around your waist, pulling your back against his chest as he rocks back and forth with you. "what's got you so happy?" he questions as he hooks his chin around your shoulder, feathering light kisses down your neck, "was my cooking that good?" he teases. each peck leaves a searing hot train in their wake as a shiver runs through your spine.
you inhale, placing your hand in his hair as you play with the ginger tresses. "oh, absolutely," you exaggerate as you turn your head to kiss the corner of his mouth, "i have no idea what i'd do if i didn't have a beautiful boyfriend to cook for me so generously like you do."
you smile lovingly into his eyes as he turns your frame to face him, his hands staying on your body as they travel up and down your waist. "mm, right," he hums through a slight smirk and lays his forehead against yours.
looking up into and nearly getting lost in his endless ocean of a gaze, you place a kiss upon his lips and back away from him. his face instinctively chased your own before you spoke, "dance with me."
before he can even think of an answer, he follows you into the living room and takes your hand in his. looking up at you, he bows regally with and arm behind his back as he places a saccharine kiss upon your fingers—the ones he silently promises to soon decorate with a ring. his eyes shine as they catch the light radiating from the kitchen, crystal blue irises peering at you through his long lashes. he's stunning, you think, any thoughts you had running through your head haulting to a stop. dazzled and frozen in place by the prince of a man before you, you step into his arms.
it's nothing special; not a waltz nor tango, just the two of you swaying together in the dim light of your home. your head lays against his shoulder, drinking in as much of him as you humanly can within the constraints of staying awake. the wine in your system warms you from within and leaves a whirring buzz in your mind as you hold onto your grip of reality, ajax's hands roaming the expanse of your torso and the rhythm you fall into doing no good in helping your poor attempt of sanity.
you feel one of his hands coming up, lifting your chin to meet his eyes as you fall in love over and over again in the infinite depths of his gaze. his hand spans across your cheek as his thumb caresses it gently, eventually traveling down to press against your lips. his eyes flit between your features, from your eyes to the tip of your nose and down to your plush lips he traces with his finger. he reels in the way you feel within his grasp as the music playing becomes a soundtrack for the film of his love that plays before him, losing himself in his adoration as he finally leans in to indulge in you.
the kiss is searing hot as it mixes with the interchanging major and minor chords the piano plays surrounding you both. the singing continues above the saxophones and drums, yet all you can hear is the sweet melody of your shared embrace: birds chirping in jueyun karst, breeze whistling through the tall grass in windrise, the silence of the snow falling in snezhnaya, the glittering of the glowing grass in chinju forest—you hear it all through your shared embrace. the pace picks up as small gasps are heard over the music, ajax's hands finding their way underneath your shirt as they move across the expanse of your body leaving a lingering warmth in their path. your lips dance against one another in a sparkling duet as you feel yourself getting ever hotter from the invasion of your senses.
"jazz isn't so bad, hmm?" he chimes, smirking as he dips back into your lips.
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©𝑙𝑦𝑛𝑒𝑦𝑙𝑢𝑣 ’24
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turcott3 · 3 months ago
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More mackie plsss 🙏🙏🙏
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summertime feelings
mackie samoskevich x fem! reader
warnings?: cursing, kissing, smut, unprotected sex, p in v, fingering, yearning, kind of slow burn-ish
masterlist
-
you laid awake in your bed in the lake house. the same bed you slept in this time every year. the same trip your family took every year. you shared the comfort of your lake house with the samoskevich’s every year for as long as you could remember.
your room shared a wall with mackie’s and that kept you awake at night the last few years. you’d grown confusing feelings for the boy and you had no clue why. well, maybe you did.
“fuck just go to bed y/n.” you groan, pressing your hands to your face. you tossed and turn for a few more minutes before finally drifting off to sleep, dreaming of the boy just on the other side of the wall.
all your life, your families paired the two of you together for events, the most notable being your senior prom. you went to the dance together, as always, and decided to be a bit rebellious and hit the after party. the both of you had a bit much too drink, leading you to giving him a handjob in the bedroom of a complete strangers’ house. ever since then you haven’t felt the same. the way he held your jaw as he sloppily attached your lips together. the way he whimpered at your touch. you woke up the next day in that same bed, vowing to keep what happened that night a secret between the two of you. no one could ever know, nor was it ever probably going to happen again.
not that he didn’t enjoy it.
“y/n.” you wake up to hollow knocks on your door and the sound of your sisters voice.
“huh.” you groan.
“breakfast is almost ready, come downstairs.” she says and you flash her a thumbs up before sitting up and rubbing your eyes. for the past 4 years, you couldn’t get him out of your head, and it didn’t help that you were sharing a house together for a two whole weeks once a year.
“look who it is.” mackie says to everyone as you entered the dining room, a yawn leaving your mouth.
“yeah, hey. good morning guys.” you say, stretching your arms above your head. you could feel a pair of eyes locked on your body but you ignored the urge to look at him, as much as you wanted to.
you could feel his eyes peeking at you all of breakfast, but still you ignored and denied a shared glance.
maybe he’s trying to tell you something.
no, there’s no way.
“we’ll get this all cleaned up, kids go have fun.” your mother says. it’s tradition as the parents spend the late morning cleaning the kitchen as the “kids” all ran off to start their activities for the day. you went up to your room to change, heading out to the dock waiting on mackie to join you for a jetski ride.
“you driving this year?” he laughs, buckling his life jacket as he comes down the wood dock.
“yes…. maybe….. no.” you say with doubt lining your tone.
“atta girl, you already knew i wouldn’t let you.” he giggles, stepping onto the vessel, holding a hand out for you to step on. he sits you down in front of him this time instead of behind like normal.
weird.
he pushes off from the dock and speeds off, flying out into the lake.
“oh my god.” you scream as he guns it, you had no clue where he was going but wherever it was it was away from the house. you gripped your hands tightly on top of his.
“scared?” he yells.
“maybe.”
“you know i wouldn’t actually put you in danger right?” he says leaning into your view as you came to a quick stop.
“yeah i know, i just didn’t expect you to take off like that.” you say out of breath.
“turn around.” he says simply and you do so.
“what?”
“you’re acting weird.” he says plainly.
“what do you mean?”
“you don’t talk to me in front of the family. it’s been less and less every year since the summer after our senior year.”
“you know why.” you respond firmly.
“yes i know. but that doesn’t mean we can’t talk. it’s our secret. no one knows. the only “people” that are weird about it is you. i don’t like this vibe you’ve been giving me. i’ve been trying to catch your attention and you won’t even look at me now, not in front of our parents.”
“mackie im sorry okay. im sorry ive made it weird. i don’t mean to i just….” you trailed off. this was not the moment to admit that you maybe have some complex feelings toward him.
“what is it?” he asks, placing two light hands on your thighs.
“listen i don’t wanna ruin our day okay? can we just talk about it later? you can like come to my room after everyone goes to bed or something. i’m sorry, can we just forget about this conversation? just for now….. please?” you say placing your hands on top of his with a squeeze.
“yeah of course, but you know you can tell me anything y/n. your words will always be safe with me.” he says, his thumbs brushing lightly on your skin.
“thank you.” you say quietly, hugging into the boy tightly.
“let’s get back to riding yeah?” he giggles squeezing you tight before pulling away. you simply nod in response turning back around in your seat.
-
it was finally dark outside. you sat in your bed on your phone, chewing on your nails as the clock ran up the time.
“fuck i told him to forget the conversation. what if he thought that means for him not to come?” you whisper to yourself. you groaned, your hands finding their way back to your face. you’d decided for yourself the he wasn’t coming. you shed your bra and left yourself in a tank top and shorts, awaiting the morning sun that warmed up your room a bit too much.
you tossed and turned with your eyes shut, hoping and praying he’d still come to your door. then you hear it….
three light taps on your door.
you shoot up and look at your alarm clock, the time reading 1:37.
“come in?” you reply, flicking your lamp on.
“it’s just me.” you hear mackie whisper as he shuts the door and comes into the light. s
shirtless of course.
“i was scared you thought i told you not to come.” you sigh out.
“well i did but…. i figured i should anyway.” he giggles.
“come sit.” you say patting the spot next to you.
“actually, could you come with me?” he says, picking at his nails.
“yes?” you reply hesitantly. the brunette guides you down the steps and out of the house.
“mack where are we going?” you ask.
“you’ll see.” he replies, continuing down the dock to his fathers pontoon boat.
“mackie we are n-“
“we’re not going anywhere, will you just come on?” he laughs and you hesitate, deciding not to ask him anymore questions. he opens the gate of the boat stepping in, assisting you in like always. he guides you to the front of the boat where a few blankets laid astray on the ground and pillows littered the edges of the floor, leaning up against the seats, his sisters battery powered fairy lights scattered so everything was somewhat visible.
“what is this?” you ask looking up at him.
“i could tell you had a lot on your mind, i wanted to do something to maybe help you out. we’re out of everyone’s earshot. it’s just us out here. parents breakfast in town is in the morning so we can stay out here too if you want. if not it’s okay.” he says, sitting down on the blankets, reaching his hand out for you.
“this is so thoughtful mackie. thank you.” you say looking around. the lake was flat and peaceful as you sat in silence for a few moments.
“yeah, you’re welcome.” he replies practically in a whisper. you could feel his eyes locked on you as you observed the area around you.
“so what was it you wanted to talk about. i wanna fix this, whatever went wrong i wanna fix it.”
“i think it’s more complicated than that.” you reply staring up at the stars.
“hit me.” he giggles.
“no mackie you don’t understand.”
“make me understand y/n. we have all night.” he says leaning up.
“i like you.” you say, broken up slightly.
“what?”
“i said i like you, mackie. i like you. i have since our fucking senior prom. i didn’t want to move on from that damn night. it changed everything for me. i couldn’t help but feel like you just didn’t want me and that it was a silly mistake. i was embarrassed. i’ve liked you ever since but i was ignoring you to push my feelings away because i knew you’d never feel the same way.” you admit, a tear falling down your cheek. you couldn’t read the expression on his face.
why did you just admit all of that to him?
“and i understand if you don’t feel the same way. it’s like a childish dream or some shit.” you try to giggle, wiping another tear. you finally lock eyes with him, and suddenly your brought out of your thoughts. he slid his hand behind your neck and pulled your lips straight into his. his lips felt just like you remembered. soft and plump. just like in the dreams you had every year at this damn place. his tongue plunged carefully onto your mouth as your hands found their way to his cheeks, the kiss growing hotter, and more passionate by the second. you couldn’t tell if this was him admitting he felt the same way, or just a way to take the awkwardness.
his words mattered to you, more than anything.
you finally pulled away catching your breath, opening your eyes to see the boy already looking at you.
“does that tell you anything about how i feel?” he smiles lightly.
“maybe…”
“fuck y/n. i’ve wanted you forever. all i ever wanted was for you to look my way. all i ever wanted was for you to be mine. i wanted it to be you all along. i tried to make it obvious but you couldn’t even look at me.”
“i’m sorry mackie. i really am.” you reply.
“it’s okay. we’re here now.” he says, the gleam in his eye appearing for the first time since that night. he brings your lips back to his more harshly this time, his hands trailing down your waist, laying you back smoothly. you pulled away again, not knowing where to go from here. looking to him for something.
you knew exactly where you wanted this to go. a switch flipped in your head in an instant as you tugged your tank top off revealing your bare chest. gently he took your breasts into his hands, reconnecting your lips as your hands latched on top of his, his large hands massaging them. his lips trailed from your lips, to your jaw, straight to your neck as your fingers gripped onto his dark curls.
you couldn’t help the soft moans that escaped your lips as he nipped on the skin of your neck. he moved his was down to your color bone, pressing sweet kisses along the bone before attaching his lips to your chest, sucking harshly on the skin as your grip on his curls tightened.
he knew better than to leave hickeys on your neck when you’re staying in a house with your family for a whole nother week.
he littered your breasts with hickeys, leaving them sensitive and tender. you whined as he pulled away a soft but hungered look in his eyes.
“holy shit.” you laugh softly, looking down at the artwork he was clearly proud of.
“i’d consider that territory claimed, maybe i don’t know.” he giggles again, reattaching your lips. typically you’d cringe at a moment like that, but never for him. nothing he could do in this moment would turn you off. you’d never been this horny in your life. maybe he was the missing piece to everything.
“fuck mackie.” you whine as his fingers make contact with the soaked fabric that covered your pussy.
“so soaked for me huh?” he says, licking his fingers clean. hastily, you pull your shorts and panties off, leaving yourself completely exposed. in return, he pulls of his sweat pants, leaving him in only his boxers.
“please?” you groan quietly.
“no, i have to do this right.” he shakes his head, leaning back against the pillows, shaking off his boxers.
“come here.” he says, signaling for you to lean on his chest.
“you’ve got me so worked up, all for me to lay with you?”
“so many questions.” he giggles as you make yourself comfortable against his chest, his hand sliding over your thigh and back to your soaked core.
“fuck.” you say biting your lip as he slips two fingers into you. one of your hands gripping onto his thigh, the other finding its way to the back of his neck.
“feel good?” he teases, pumping his large fingers in and out of you.
“y-yes. shit.” you say squeezing your eyes shut harshly.
“so good for me.” he coos lowly in your ear. your pushed closer and closer to your wits end. your back arching more and more against him, your eyes squeezing shut even tighter.
“oh my fucking god.” you moan out loudly as the bucket finally tips, an orgasm washing over your body harshly. shakes rippling through your body as your back straightened out again, your chest rising and falling heavily as he sucks his fingers clean in your ear.
“that was fucking incredible.” you sigh out, your hands now rested on his thighs. such a fulfilling moment, but you couldn’t help but want more. you’ve wanted more the last four years.
“come on baby, can you lay down for me?” he mutters in your ear.
“yes.” you reply quietly, laying down on your back, your legs squeezed shut.
“no no, open up for me.” he says, tapping on your leg as he jerked himself even harder than he was before.
“i’m nervous.” you admit. this was a serious step for you, and you were worried one of you would maybe regret it.
“don’t be nervous my love, i just wanna love on you.” he says lowly, pressing a soft kiss to your knee as you slowly put your legs down, opening them for easier access.
“so so good for me baby.” he mutters, sliding himself into you smoothly, instantly stretching you out like no other guy had.
“fuck.” you moan out loudly, your hand slapping over your mouth as the brunette giggled above you.
“nobody can hear you out here sweetheart. remember. just me ‘n you.” he says locking eyes with you.
“just me ‘n you.” you reply with a smile, his lips attaching back to their home as he retracted his hips slowly, pushing back in at the same speed. you gripped onto his wrists on either side of your head as he quickened his thrusts slightly. the light sound of skin clapping echoing in your ears, the boat rocking ever so slightly.
you’d never felt this way before. the way he was buried so deep inside you. you’d never felt this fucking good. the pure euphoria you felt was unmatched by any kind of alcohol or drugs you could ever find.
he hit every right spot, over and over again. your eyes threatening to roll to the back of your skull but remained locked on his as your moans grew louder and sharper. in this moment you couldn’t muster any singular thought other than how much you fucking loved this boy.
for everything he was.
“god you feel so fucking good baby.” he grunts out lowly above you as you reach up, pulling his chain to bring his lips back to yours before your moans could turn to screams.
“i’m so fucking close.” you mutter on his lips, your hand releasing his chain and reaching into his hair as he found himself buried in your chest again. stars started to form behind your eyes as your moans grew closer together, your core tightening more and more around his thick, swollen cock.
“fuck oh my god.” you say as the tension snaps out of it, goosebumps coming in waves across your body as you came harder than you ever had.
“shit y/n, i’m gonna cum.” he groans.
“keep it in me mackie. i don’t fucking care.” you say as he fucked you all the way through your high spilling into his own as he filled you to the brim with his cum.
truth be told you didn’t care what happened to you in this moment. nothing could ever top this.
ever.
“fuck, i’m sorry i-“ he says pulling out, a panic stricken look instantly spreading across his face.
“mackie, stop. don’t worry about it. i told you to do it. everything will be fine.” you giggle.
“are you sure?” he asks.
“yes i’m sure.” you reply, leaning up to kiss him once again.
“damn we gotta keep this a secret big time.” he says and the two of you laugh.
after some moments of winding down, you found yourselves back in your clothes just like you were before all of this. you laid in silence next to each other looking up at the bright stars, wondering where you went from here.
“i think im in love with you.” you say simply.
“what?” he says turning his head to look at you.
“i said im in love with you.” you reply, turning to look at him.
“i heard you, i just wanted to hear you say it again.” he smirks as you smack him on the chest.
“hey hey, quit.” he giggles.
“it’s not funny mackie. i’m serious.” you say sternly.
“i know you’re serious baby, and i am too.” he says, catching your hands and holding onto it.
“you’re what too?” you push.
“i’m in love with you. so fucking deeply, i can’t even comprehend it. it scares the shit out of me y/n. i love you so fucking much it scares me.”
“why are you afraid?”
“because i don’t want to lose you. i don’t wanna fuck this up. that’s why i’ve never said anything. i love you so much y/n. you have to understand.” he finishes, your heart jumping at the sound of his words.
“i understand my love. you’re never going to lose me. never in a million years.” you reply, your hands finding their way to his cheeks, smiling as you press your lips back to his.
you fell asleep on his chest, waking up to the sun peeking over the horizon. the two of you got up just in time to clean up the boat and sneak in the house, the dirty blanket thrown quickly in the wash before he slips into your room with you, hoping to wake up next to you every morning for the next week. he couldn’t live without it.
he couldn’t live without you.
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magneto-was-fucking-right · 11 months ago
Text
The Ghost Next Door - Chapter 2
Prompt: After suffering an almost lethal injury in combat, Simon "Ghost" Riley expected a dull, and uneventful leave back at his shitty apartment. His new next-door neighbor ruins his plans. Pairing: Simon "Ghost" Riley x Reader (named Riley Thomas for plot purposes)
Chapter 1 Chapter 3
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Disclaimer: slow burn; neighbor!Simon; will eventually contain very graphic descriptions of smut;
Chapter summary: Ghost's neighbor works hard to get in his good graces: her dog, not so much. Word Count: 1.2k
Riley Thomas woke up at 5 in the morning with a skull-splitting headache and a sore neck, as she had fallen asleep awkwardly on her armchair the previous evening. It was her day off, but her body was now so accustomed to the work routine she often had trouble allowing herself to sleep in.
In order to get up, she (sorrowfully) had to move a large cat that lay peacefully on her legs, stretching her aching muscles and cracking her joints before starting her morning routine, which consisted of thoroughly cleaning litter boxes and cages, feeding the animals and making sure they kept as quiet as possible. The rest of the apartment was a complete mess (as well as her looks), but at least the pets were well taken care of. The burnt cookies laid abandoned on her small kitchen table, and she grabbed one off the tray before biting into it and trying not to grimace as she tasted it.
“Fuck that’s awful.”
She made a mental note to deep clean the flat as soon as possible but she knew her exhaustion would make her postpone it as much as possible. Riley had a mission much more important than that: to get into her neighbor’s good graces. The thought of confronting the large, intimidating man once again made her stomach lurch and her body tremble with anxiety, but if she didn’t try there was a good chance she – as well as her rescues - would be homeless in less than a few weeks. So, once her home affairs were sorted, she quickly caught up with her skincare routine, replaced her sweatpants with simple jeans and her tank top for a warm sweater, and leashed an excited young German shepherd she was currently housing to head out to the nearest grocery store.
The early morning daylight barely lit up the dim hallway as she fiddled with her keys and gently tried to push the cat’s head inside the apartment with her foot.
“I’ll be back soon Milo” she whispered softly to the stray cat, trying to lock the door as she fought against the dog’s leash. “Alright, alright…we’re going. Calm down Rex.”
The dog’s tail wagged furiously as he pulled on the leash, sniffing his way across the floor. He barked loudly once he caught the scent of a spot that interested him, and she quickly shushed him, terrified he’d bother the neighbours and get her into more trouble. But just as she was about to pull him towards the staircase, her eyes widened in horror as she watched the young dog squat down quickly on a rug. Her next-door neighbor’s rug. The large, intimidating, broody man. The man she was supposed to impress.
“No no no, please don’t!” she frantically tried to pull on the leash, accessing some sort of damage control if he at least did it in the middle of the hallway instead of right in front of the door, but Rex seemed hellbound on dropping it right there.
“Fuck!” she quickly dropped to her knees, pulling out her dog poo bag and fisting it as fast as humanly possible. Her heart thumped heavily in her chest as she heard the door open right in front of her. Riley felt her mouth dry and her stomach drop. Even Rex stood still, sitting obediently as if he hadn’t just ruined her chances of thriving in that place. She looked up with doe eyes, a deer caught in the headlights as the man in the black facemask stared down blankly at her figure.
***
“Did your dog just take a dump on my doorstep?” Simon asked gruffly, dark eyes directed at the young woman’s, as her hand was quite literally deep in shit.
“I-I…” her mouth hung open as she tried to find a hundred different excuses at the same time. “I’m so sorry…” Was the best she could come up with.
Simon cocked his head to the right and stared at her in silence as if trying to make her feel as awkward and uncomfortable as possible. She looked so vulnerable and anxious; it was almost endearing.
She squirmed beneath his intense gaze as she scraped the steaming hot turd as efficiently as possible – to no effect, as it only ingrained itself deeper within the rug’s fibers. “I was just about to take him for a walk…He’s young and still learning and-”
“And?” he teased, interrupting her.
“And I promise I’ll wash your rug! Fuck, I’ll get you a new one if it makes this better!” She looked like she could cry, and Simon was enjoying it.
Just as she was awkwardly getting up, bag full of shit in hand, they heard angry, heavy footsteps coming up the stairs.
“Uh-oh… Here comes trouble.” Simon mocked, extremely interested in the outcome of the next few minutes, leaning against his doorframe, and crossing his arms over his chest.
“Oh, it’s alright…I’m sure Mrs. Parsons will warm up to me…eventually…” the young woman smiled nervously.
The old woman made way through the corridor with her usual scowl and her robe tightly wrapped around her scrawny form, newspaper in hand. She gave Simon’s next-door neighbor and her dog a disgusted look, before indignantly ignoring them.
“Good morning Mrs-”
“Fuck off.” Mrs. Parsons cut her off before she had even finished the sentence, and Simon stifled a chuckle.
“Lovely…” she muttered under her breath, that defeated look back on her face. Her puffy eyes looked worse than in their previous encounter and she forced a smile as if trying to lighten up the mood. “I’m about to get some groceries. I’ll get you that new rug on the way back.”
“Look…” Simon started with a deep sigh, taking a long look behind him at his uninhabited-looking apartment before looking at his wristwatch. “I’m actually in need of some groceries myself. If you help me out, I’ll slide all this under the rug.”
She blinked once in shock, as if trying to comprehend if he was being serious or not. His deadpan expression didn’t help.
“It’s a joke kiddo, lighten’up yeah?” he rolled his eyes at her, before reaching into his back pocket for his wallet.
“Oh…haha” She allowed herself to giggle nervously and rolled back her shoulders, trying to shake the discomfort and relax under his gaze. “Sure, I could do that. Just make me a list of what you need.”
“That’s where it gets complicated. I need everything. I got back from deployment yesterday an’ have nothing to live on.” Simon explained as he passed the young woman 200 pounds in cash. Her eyes went wide as she held the money in her free hand, the stinky bag still occupying the other.
“I don’t know what you like…And you don’t even know me. What if I stole all your money?” she asked and he faked an intimidating glare.
“Well kid, I know where you live.”
“That’s-”
He shut the door on her face and the dog whined softly as if disappointed by the man’s sudden absence.
The young woman sighed deeply.
“You and me both buddy.”
A/N: I hope you guys are enjoying it :) they're about to get closer real soon...
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p0orbaby · 2 years ago
Note
How about Wanda and Reader having a bet going on about what Tommy and Billy's first words will be. What they say instead is something completely unexpected 🤭
Bets
warnings: some suggestive stuff (inevitable at this point tbf)
a/n: apparently I’m in my horny era. Also i veered with request slightly, hope you don’t mind!
word count: 1.2k
-
“Twenty dollars?”
“No, Y/N”
“How about ten?”
Wanda stopped her task of folding clean laundry to look up at you pointedly, raising a perfectly sculpted brow at your persistence.
“And what makes you so confident you’ll win anyway?”
“I’ve dabbled”, you stated confidently. Bringing your hands up behind your head and getting comfortable against the bed cushions.
“Blackjack at Bucky’s birthday party doesn’t mean you’ve dabbled”
“Five dollars and a back massage?”
“I’m not betting on our kids”
“Sounds like something a loser would say”. Your wife narrowed her eyes. Took a deep breath in through her nose, and out again. Pursed her lips so they formed a straight line. All signs she was giving in and you found it hard to hide how smug you were about the whole thing. “Five dollars, a back massage and I’ll even throw in and all inclusive, child free evening, complete with a one, ish, star home cooked meal, all courtesy of Casa De Maximoff”
Sold.
Enough anyway. The tilt of her head told you she was just about willing to play along.
“I told you, I’ve dabbled,” you insisted. “And we’ve got a babysitting token to cash in. Natasha made the grave mistake of offering to look after the gremlins before their hands are full”
She nodded. That made sense.
“And what do you get out of this? You want me to cook if I lose?”
“Not exactly”
“Then what? If it’s five dollars you want, I’ll grab my purse right now and it’s yours”
“I want you to wear that lingerie set I got you for your birthday. The pretty pink one. And without the kids here, you’ll be able to wear it. All. Day. Long”
She started folding laundry again. Face turned down, more than likely to hide the blush that has crept onto her cheeks. “I’m only agreeing to this because it’ll be nice for them to spend time with their godparents”
“Whatever helps you sleep at night, my darling wife”
-
You woke up alone the following morning.
The rain pattering on the windows roused you gently from your sleep. Unusual as a parent. Easy mornings and late starts usually meant the kids had gotten up to no good. Toddlers and quiet was an unsettling combination. However, the lack of your wife’s presence hopefully meant all was well.
Deciding to take your time and revel in the small amount of stillness you’d been gifted, you moved languidly through your morning routine. Stretching as you rolled out of bed. Discarding your clothes as you walked towards the bathroom. Letting your muscles loosen under the steaming water of the shower.
Washed, dressed and refreshed, you found your wife standing at the kitchen island cutting fruit as the boys sat in their highchairs, laughing at how the other was smacking their tray with their chubby hands.
“Boys, can you say hello to mommy? Can you say mommy?”
Your children stopped and looked at Wanda. Perplexed at her speaking to them. Smiling at the sound of her voice. They swiveled their heads when she pointed a finger in your direction. Showing you their gums when you stroked stray hairs away from their faces.
“Stealing them away to get a head start I see” you whispered before placing a quick kiss against your wife’s lips.
“If letting you sleep in and feeding your children is getting a head start, then you must be less confident than I thought”
“Ohh, playing the big leagues are we? Fine, I’ll bite” you said, lips ghosting hers again. Your breath tickling her skin before you pulled away.
“Alright crotch gremlins, let’s make a deal” you started, crouching down and rummaging through a cupboard to find what you were looking for. “If you say mama, you get one of these”
You shook a box in their direction. A box full of their favourite biscuit snacks. Their eyes lit up.
“You can’t bribe them! That’s cheating”
“Who said? Miss Quality Time getting scared?”
“You’re relentless, you know that right?” Wanda said. She was joking, her smirk told you so. But it still gave you an excuse to fire one back.
“You weren’t saying that last night when I-“
“Nope, nope, not here. Jesus you creep, the twins are right there”
“Yeah well, that’s what I thought. You’re weak! Isn’t she boys? Weak in the knees from last night!”
“Y/N!” Her squeal of your name was accompanied by a slap to your shoulder and a high pitch cackle from the children in front of you. They were enjoying the show.
“Mama or mommy boyos? Fun treats, or whatever boring fruit your mother has forced you to eat this time?”
Silence. Nothing.
“See? Bribery won’t work on them. I’ve taught them well”
As you turned to give Wanda a small slap to her ass, you heard it. It was quiet, almost a whisper, but it was there.
You spun on your heels, “what was that? Did one of you say something huh?”
Wide eyes looked up at you, then Tommy spoke in between chewing a strawberry.
“Weak”
Oh my god.
“Did he just say what I think he said?” Wanda whispered next to you. Shock lacing her words.
“Can you say that again bud?” You coaxed.
“Weak” he said again as if it was nothing, and you could’ve dropped to the floor right then and there. Your wife had the opposite idea and ran around the island to pepper kisses across his sugary cheeks.
“Tommy! You said your first word! My clever boy” your wife cooed. Picking him out of his high chair, spinning slowly around the kitchen in her arms.
You started laughing. Like really laughing. Billy was wide eyed with confusion, Wanda was prancing around with a toddler in her arms and tears in her eyes.
“What’s so funny? He just said his first word!” She exclaimed.
Between breaths, “of course his, his first word was an… an insult” you said proudly, sucking in air. “Apple doesn’t fall far from the tree, I see”
“A word is a word, I don’t care” she replied, beaming at you then your children. “At least it wasn’t a curse. Which I was half expecting with how often you swear around them”
“You do know what this means though?” You question. “Looks like we both lose”
There was a small moment Wanda took in what you had just said. The smile on her face faltering slightly.
“Don’t look so hard pressed, you get a cooked meal and a night of heavy petting. Child free might I add”
With a grimace she responds, “you mean a terrible dinner and a night without my boys”
“Well that's extremely rude, baby”
“Is it now? Well what are you gonna do about it?” She asked, picking up the phone presumably to see if Natasha and Bucky have a free evening.
“Oh you wait and see, Wands. But whatever I come up with, you'll be glad the boys won’t be around to copy what’s gonna be spewing out your pretty mouth later”
And even with the glare she gave you as the receiver rang muffled through the phone, the glint in her eyes told you everything you needed to know.
Bets won or lost, you both would be cashing out tonight.
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Text
Kinktober- Day 7: Virginity- Adam Warlock
Note: a bit of sweet one and yes I 100% think Adam would want to be both dominant and submissive at the exact same time
Summary: You and Adam drive each other crazy and late one night on the ship you take Adams virginity
Word count: 2,736 words
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Ever since Adam had officially joined you and the rest of the guardians all you could feel was conflicted. Though he had the body of a gorgeous fully grown man, he was still very pure and sweet. Part of you wanted to protect him, help him and teach him; thus far that’s what you had done and the two of you had grown quite close.
Another part of you however was a less innocent, another part of you wanted to corrupt him. Though you saw him as innocent you also understood that he was an adult in a way, it was just different to how humans are.
Little did you know however that he felt the same about you. He saw you as his care giver, his friend, his teacher, but he also saw you as a gorgeous woman who cared for him.
Adam didn’t fully understand what his body did when you were around him but he knew it felt good. It took him a while to realise what that good feeling was however. It was one night when he sat alone in his room and was thinking about you that he began to realise what it was his body was doing.
That night and any night a week he had alone he’d sit in his bed and picture it was your hand around him. He imagined how your breasts might bounce as you stroke him, he imagined your cheeky smile as you were the one making him cum.
Adams imagination was limited as he didn’t fully comprehend what sex was or what it could include. You on the other hand knew exactly what it could be. Your routine seemed similar to Adam, you too pleasuring yourself and picturing Adams fingers being the one pleasuring you.
You both seemed to tease each other without even realising it, feeding each others nightly fantasies.
He didn’t realise how much it affected you when he’d reach above you to help you grab things from the top shelves of the ships little kitchen, his strong body pressing into you. Or how he’d put his head a top yours when you’d accidentally fall asleep on his shoulder, waking up to find his arm wrapped around you.
You however weren’t so innocent yourself.
The way your hips swayed when you’d dance on the ship after a successful mission, or how you’d hold him so gently when you’d help him clean up scrapes and cuts he’d gotten while fighting. You drove him mad with desire and need.
************
After a successful mission you sat in your bunk on the ship, earphones in listening to music. The others had gone to bed a while ago, you’d been up for about an hour now, just listening to music and thinking about Adam. When your thoughts started to get a little too heated and your could feel your panties starting to get more and more wet, you decided it was time to get up. Since your feelings for Adam had begun you made a promise to yourself that you wouldn’t do anything on the ship, you didn’t want to risk getting caught.
You took your earphones out and went to the kitchen to get a glass of water, maybe that would calm you down a bit. As you walked through the ship you pass Adams door, hearing a couple low grunts you thought nothing of it, assuming he was just dancing or working out, but when you heard your name being moaned you stopped in your tracks.
Walking up to his door again you pressed your ear to the door to listen a bit more.
“Aah y/n, aaa-aah! Fuck!” You could hear Adam quietly moaning.
You didn’t know what came over you and you knew you really shouldn’t have but hearing him moan your name like that, it seemed your body had a mind of its own.
As you slowly opened the door you saw Adam completely naked, his hard golden cock leaking pre cum as his hand movement quickly up on down. His gorgeous body covered in sweat and his eyes closed, head thrown back and mouth slightly open. Seeing him in such a way all of your previous conflicted feeling were officially gone.
You knew you shouldn’t but once again it seemed your body had a mind if its own. Slowly you started to undress until you were completely naked standing in front of the golden man. You stood at the foot of his bed before you decided to speak.
“I should walk around the ship in the middle of the night more often.” You spoke up with a cheeky grin plastered on your face.
As soon as he hear your voice his eyes flew open and he quickly moved to cover himself.
“You need a hand there, Adam?” You ask cheekily as you crawl onto his bed, sitting on your knees right in front of him.
As you looked at him you were starting to feel a bit bad, he’s pulled his blanket up his chest and he’s staring at you panicked, like a rabbit caught in head lights.
“Adam, baby. Are you okay?” You ask him, gently reaching out now starting to worry.
“I’m sorry!” Was all he could quickly blurt out.
Before he had the chance to run off, you quickly leaned in and cupped the side of his face. At your contact his eyes fluttered shut again and his leaned into your hand, rubbing his face against your palm like a needy cat.
“Do you want me to leave, Adam?” You ask him gently.
This seemed to upset him too as his eyes shot open and stared right into your own eyes. Shooting up his hands reached out for your face and hip, wanting to pull you into his lap.
“No, please stay, I want you to stay I-I need you, y/n.” He tells you as you’re now straddling his hips and his hands are squeezing into your thighs.
For a moment he just stares at you, marvelling at your body, as if he’s never seen anything so perfect and beautiful. The longer he stares the more you can feel his cock begin to twitch beneath you.
“Do you want me, baby?” You ask him, feigning a bit of innocence as you took both his cheeks in your hands and begin grinding on him, the blanket preventing you from grinding directly onto his cock.
Even this slight movement however had him melting under you.
“Yes please, I need you, I need you so bad.” He whimpered out as your grinding started to pick up a little pace.
You slowly took one of his hands in yours and placed it on one of your breasts. Feeling like instinct or just pure lust was taking over him, he gently began to massage your breast. As he massaged you you took the blanket away, revealing himself fully to you.
“Can I touch you, Adam?” You ask him gently and quietly.
“Please.” He pleaded with you, not just with his voice but with his eyes.
You reached down and slowly took his cock in your hand, stroking him with a gentle rhythm. Feeling your hands working him, even though it was at such a gentle pace, awoke something in him. All of a sudden he’d flipped you both; underneath him he grabbed your face and began to kiss you passionately.
Your hands quickly reached for his hair and his hands grabbed both of your hips, squeezing and kneading them.
“I need you.” He lightly growled as his lips left yours, looking into your eyes intensely.
He needed you and you needed him, but unfortunately it wasn’t that simple. You knew you needed to explain this to Adam before you could continue. Pushing him slightly off of you, you pushed yourself up so you could properly look at him.
“Adam, baby, do you know what this is? Do you know what sex is? I’m not asking this because I think you’re stupid, I’m asking because I want you to know fully what you’re asking.” You spoke to him gently, holding his face in your hands.
He pondered what you had asked him, trying to find the words to describe what he knew.
“I know that being around you makes me hard and I know when I touch myself that I feel really good and then I seem to uummm… explode? I don’t know if there’s a word for it.” He responded, looking very sheepish and hopeful that he was correct.
“It’s called an orgasm, Adam. What else do you know, darling?” You ask him softly, sitting up even further and stroking his face.
“I know that I like the way you touch me and that when I see and touch you, my body starts to tingle and I start to feel excited. I’m also pretty sure something happens between a man and a woman where they have sex together but I’m not 100% sure what that is.” He half told you and half asked you.
“Okay well that’s a start, I guess. Did you want to learn? Do you want me to show you these things? I don’t want to take advantage of you and I want you to know how this all works.” You ask him as you gently rub his face.
“I want you to show me. When I touch myself I think about you, you’re the one who makes me feel this way. I want you. I might not know just yet what that means fully, but I know I want you.” He confesses sweetly.
Feeling your heart flutter you give him a sweet smile and a kiss to his lips.
“Okay, darling. You lay down and I’ll teach you.” You tell him as you switch places.
You gently take his hand in yours, kissing his palm sweetly.
“When you get aroused you get hard. When I get aroused this is what happens.” You tell him as you take his hand and place it on your wet pussy.
Feeling you, his fingers start to move and he groans.
“Mmm, you’re so warm.” He moans, moving his fingers along you, trying to memorise what you feel like.
During his little exploration he lightly touches over your clit, making you gasp out softly. His eyes jump to yours and a small smile creeps onto his face, knowing he’s done something right. Seeing if his theory is correct he lightly rubs over that area again, feeling your little nub. Seeing what it’s doing to you, he begins to rub it again and again.
Moaning and gasping trying to explain, his smile grows bigger as your moans become louder and your body begins to shake. Taking him by the wrist you reluctantly push his hand away to explain, causing Adam to pout.
“That little nub you were rubbing is my clitoris or you can just call it a clit. It’s a bundle of nerves and it makes me feel really good, like you saw.” You tell him as you both start to giggle together.
“Rubbing that is what gives me an orgasm.” You continue to explain to him. At hearing this his hand goes to rush back to it, wanting to give you that pleasure too. Quickly you take his hand in yours, stopping him from touching you again, leaving him with a confused look on his face.
“As much as I want that, I still have to explain one last thing to you.” You tell him as you gently take his hand again, placing it right at your entrance.
“The way men and women have sex is that the man will put his penis inside of a woman.” You explain to him, trying to be as informative as possible.
Adams face jumps from your face to his hand on your pussy excitedly as the idea is starting to go through his head.
“Can we do that? Please, I need you, please.” He begs you as he starts to kiss your neck.
Feeling yourself get even more wet and feeling Adam get harder beneath you, your need for him also begins to grow.
“Of course we can, baby.” You moan, wrapping your hands around the back of his neck, holding onto him as he continues to kiss your neck. You let out little moans as he kisses over the sweet spots on your neck.
Pushing him back so you can position yourself properly.
“You just lay down and I’ll take care of you, baby.” You tell him, as you now begin to kiss his neck and draw those sweet sounds out of his.
As you continue to kiss and nip at his neck you push him down as his body slides down to the bed so he’s laying on his back.
Once he’s comfortably on his back you take your cock in his hand and begin to stroke him lightly again.
“Okay, baby. Are you ready?” You ask him softly as you begin to lift your hips up to aline with him.
Instead of giving you a verbal response Adam grabs your hips and begins to push you down onto him. Gently gasping as you felt him begin to enter you, you understood how eager he was and began to slowly lower yourself onto him. As you bottom out you both moan out in unison.
Finally looking down into his eyes you bite your lip in anticipation and begin to lightly grind onto him, causing you both to let out a low moan. Being impatient once again, he starts to rock your hips and move his own to a pace and rhythm that suits him. Steadying yourself with hands on his chest you rock yourself with his rhythm.
Sometimes you seem to forget just how strong he truly is as he forces a fast and hard pace into you. Seemingly not satisfied with the pleasure he’s giving you he remembers what you showed him early. Smiling devilishly he takes one of his hands away from your hip and begins to rub your clit, hard and fast as his hips push into you even harder.
Covering your mouth to prevent the loud moan that was about to erupt from you seems to annoy Adam. Quickly he grabs you by the back of your head and drags you down into a deep and heated kiss as he thrusts into you harder.
One hand is on your hip as the other continues to rub on your clit. Slowly the hand on your hip reaches back into your hair and tugs on it lightly.
“I want to hear the sounds you make, love.” He whispers in your ear seductively.
How is it this man only learnt about sex tonight and he’s already about to give you one of the best orgasms you’ve ever had?
Feeling yourself getting close you bury your face into his neck.
“Aa-aah. Adam I’m gonna cum, fuck! Baby I promise when we get back to Nowhere I will scream for you as loud as I can, I’ll even let you fuck me while you’re on top but right now we can’t make too much noise.” Hearing you tell him those dirty things makes him growl out as he pulls you in for another heated kiss.
Grinding yourself down onto him more you can feel your orgasm approaching. It only took a few more strokes of your clit from Adam and a few more thrusts before you were burying your face in his neck once again to prevent your loud scream as you came hard, your body shaking from the force of the orgasm.
Feeling your pussy pulse around him he growled loudly as he grabbed onto your hips and fucked into you fast and hard, chasing his own release. You quickly crashed your mouth onto his in a heated kiss as he came, before he had the chance to scream out.
Both coming down from your high you stayed laying on top of him for a while. After a few minutes of catching your breath you gently pulled out of him and laid beside him. Holding you in his arms safely he grabbed the blanket from the floor and pulled it over both of you.
“When we get back you have to show me everything you know, darling.” He almost growls as he playfully grabs onto your ass, making your let out a little squeal.
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glacierclear · 1 year ago
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Can I... can I ask for some househusband Leon hcs?
alright. okay. we're gonna work with a few assumptions for these headcanons.
this all comes from the hypothetical of leon being fully retired from his line of work. he still has the same backstory, skillset, traumas, everything, it's just...now he's your loyal house husband!
cooking? this all depends on where he's at in life. mid-30s and onward? he's a chef. i don't believe he'd be terribly gourmet about it. you aren't coming home to a roasted duck served with a reduced wine glaze and a perfectly made risotto...but god. he can make some damn fine spaghetti. he'd likely shoot for simple dishes, with perhaps an added flair or two. homemade burgers. lots of steak dinners. he'd prefer anything that can be prepared with minimal mess. recipes that are made with one pot or one pan...a big hit for him. he is not a pretentious eater, and that would reflect in his cooking.
now, if we're talking early to late-20s leon? erm. well. let's just say he's learning. his transition from zombie apocalypse policeman to military meat shield didn't do much for his cooking skills. and a diet of MREs and scrounged up viper parts did even less. if post-re4 leon is your house husband you're gonna be eating a lot of questionable meals. he's not completely oblivious. he won't try and feed you absolute slop, but his abilities don't much exceed kraft mac and scrambled eggs. still! he's a domestic man now. plenty of free time to try out all sorts of new things in the kitchen! be on standby with a fire extinguisher when he decides 3am is a great time to make fried chicken from scratch!
leon's independent food preferences likely revolve around utility. protein. nutrition. careful rations. compact energy a growing boy needs to kill bioweapons. he doesn't strike me as having a particularly strong sweet tooth, but he also won't say no to a bit of dessert! but he's adaptable, of course. one must be in his line of work. your tastes and favored dishes will influence his palate a lot. he'll naturally associate flavors with you and will, over time, come to adopt a lot of your dietary choices.
cleaning? leon will do his best. you can count on him to not accidentally mix mustard gas in your bathroom, but his knack for cleanliness would be...odd. i choose to believe leon has a strict standard for bodily hygiene. his extended exposure to all manner of glop and viscera means he strives to smell nice and stay on top of dirt the best he can when he is able to...on his body. a house is different. he's never had to see it as a home, merely an empty room where he sleeps and eats. so maintaining it as a tidy space might not come naturally, and it's not as if he had a proper upbringing to teach him proper housekeeping techniques (cough, cough, he's an orphan).
man's a fast learner though. expect a lot of trial and error. him accidentally using glass cleaner on the stove. or not understanding the exact purpose of fabric softener. why do we need make our bed if we're just gonna sleep in it and mess it up again? he likely has a lot of bad habits from living on his own, but gentle guidance and persistent advice will go a long way.
of course, leon needs his private time. space for him to isolate and be alone...but, you're at work all day. the loneliness is easily accessible, and now that he has all the time and freedom to be with you...it's grating. his favorite sound is the noise your key makes when it unlocks the front door. he's careful, not incredibly overbearing, but you don't make it more than a few steps into your home before his head is poking around the corner. "how was your day? you look tired. here, let me take your coat off-" leon is a listener. he doesn't talk about himself much, if at all, so he'd prefer to just hear you ramble on about whatever you need to or want to. neck rubs. gentle squeezes on your arm. light kisses on your brow. he doesn't smother. he doesn't drown you in the touch he's so starved of. but you can tell, he misses you a lot.
the real issues will probably stem from the quiet. the absolute lack of danger. take a person out of their traumatic environment and things start crumbling real fast before they can start to heal. he's hyper-aware. paranoid. has all this pent up energy and an instinct to fight. and he has to redirect it all somewhere, right? it'd come out in bizarre ways. diy projects. you come home from work and he built you a fucking chair. you don't even need a chair, but now you have one. lots of yard work. he renovated your patio and set up a birdhouse (also handmade). you didn't really want him to rearrange your living room but he did it anyways.
and it's hard for him to relax. for him to feel truly safe. he'd insist on installing locks on all the doors. bulletproof windows. guns hidden and stashed in corners of the house, just in case. any tech that could impede on his privacy (ie, amazon echos, doorbell cameras, etc) are out of the question. he'd run you through drills and hypothetical scenarios. make sure you know what to do in any situation. he's vigilant, and honestly, you've never felt safer, but it wears him down and you aren't sure if it's truly good for him.
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