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#'its a big night - so big' hes trying to hold on
runa-falls · 1 day
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*raise hand violently* PLEASE CAN I ASK ABOUT sub!miguel headcanons?!?!?!?!?!
What makes him whine, how pretty does his whimpers sound like?!?!?!
How gorgeous does he look when his eyes get all shiny and wet with tears because you won't let him come yet.
sub!miguel headcanons
basic summary: miguel is the whiniest, most pushy malewife and you are his protector, comforter, and safe space :3
a/n: OK BETTER LATE THAN NEVER RIGHT? (im so sorry lmfaooo) also does it count as headcanons if i have random scenes in between them?? wtvr *shoves fic in ur arms and sprints away*
content: suggestive + fluffy
masterlist
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bed habits (I'M TALKING AB SLEEPING YOU DIRTY BASTARD!) -- miguel is a sleepy, cuddly boy
he never has trouble falling asleep when you're around (except for when he - adorably - forces himself to stay awake so he can spend time with you)
this man is 6'7" but he still tries to curl up on your lap when you're lounging on the couch just so you can play with his hair as he dozes off
miguel owns a king sized bed, big enough to fit five people comfortably, yet he's adamant to take up all your space
it gets hot (i mean, he's hot -- literally, like his internal temp is higher than the average human) but even when you try to shove him away, he only pulls you closer to him
if you do, somehow, get away from him, he wakes up immediately with a sleepy groan, blindly reaching across the mattress for you:
you try to dodge his hands, laying precariously at the edge of the bed, hoping he would give up and go back to sleep. unfortunately, it only makes him whine like a spoiled child, "baby, closer. need you...come here" god -- he has such a cute sleepy voice...
but you don't let it sway you. you're already laying on top of the comforter, desperately trying to cool off and get back to sleep.
"it's too hot, miguel"
"but...i can't sleep without you" you can hear the pout in his voice
"just hold a pillow and pretend its me"
he sighs -- actually sighs like the dramatic man he is, "but it's not the same!"
you don't respond, refusing to continue this 3 am argument that you'll never win, and pretend to fall back asleep. maybe he will practice self-soothing or something and sleep by himself? maybe he'll be an adult about this?
silence settles in the air for a few minutes and you're nearly lulled back to unconsciousness. and then you hear the sheets rustle as he sits up next to you, suddenly fully awake and stubbornly staring down at you.
"please?"
"mig, no amount of 'pleases' will convince me to sleep against your volcanic body"
"...how about just until I fall asleep?"
"but when I move away you'll wake up again."
you hear a quiet 'hmph' before you're promptly tugged back against his body. his face presses against your hair as he situates himself to engulf you in his warmth. "exactly, so don't leave me."
it's a common misconception that sub!mig likes to be the little spoon but actually he likes to cling onto you like you're a living teddy bear -- face nuzzled against your neck, legs intertwined with yours, and one large hand on your tit
you often wake up in a tangled mess, your neck stiff from the contorted positions he maneuvers your body into during the night
but you don't mind it anymore, especially on those rare morning swhen you wake up before him and you get to see those worry lines on his forehead soften as he sleeps soundly next to you
miguel is a soft and eager man:
it's his life mission to provide for you, to hear soft words of praise whisper from your lips
as soon as you're alone in a room, he drops the tough guy act and immediately searches for your warmth
miguel sticks to you like velcro when he isn't fighting crime in the city
and when he isn't with you, he's absolutely thinking about you
(of course he makes sure that you're thinking about him too with all the texts he sends you throughout the day -- adorned with cheesy emojis...)
this dude is so needy and desperate for your love, praise and approval that he's the one asking "would you still love me if i were a spider-mutant worm and i looked at you like this: 🐛 to say 'i love you'?"
would he call you 'mami'? debatable.
but he loves it when you call him honey, sweetheart, baby, bubby/bubs, hubby (he wants to marry you so bad), and puppy (WHEN HE'S KINKY BC HE'S A HORNY SOB)
you swear he whimpers a little when you tell him what a good man he is -- when you confess that he's your hero, even when he's not swinging around the city and lifting up buildings with his bare hands
his warm brown eyes search your face, a desperate quest for truth in every gentle word you speak. he's never been spoken to so softly in his life -- this tenderness, it's new...too good to be true
as time passes and your love deepens, he begins to realize that it's all true, that everthing about you is genuine, that he is loveable after all
miguel worships you:
he is definitely a worshipper when you let him be
on slower, more sensual nights, he makes sure to paint your body in kisses, from your ankles to your forehead it's almost tortuous
(maybe even bites if it's been a while since he's seen you)
he likes to kneel for you, make himself smaller so he can look up at you and appreciate everything you've provided for him
he's really whiny and pathetic though...
he wants to be told what to do, when to do it, and how. it helps him let go of this thoughts, anything that's weighing on him
it could be his heightened senses or just his desperation, but he needs to touch you all the time -- even just the light feeling of his hand against your thigh gives him a euphoric feeling.
so you deny him because you know how much he loves the delayed gratification and humiliation when you tease him for it.
"baby, you're acting so needy right now~" you decided to withdraw from the heated interaction to keep him at the edge. his eyes are dark, blazing with heat, as you speak to him with a syrupy sweet voice.
he pouts from the spot where he's kneeling for you, already achingly hard from the thorough petting session you just gave him.
"i'm not trying to be...just really need it." he's whining with a mixture of shame, frustration, and exasperation in his voice.
"It?" you tilt your head, a small smile gracing your lips.
"..." he doesn't elaborate. you can see a hint of pinkness creep up his neck as his eyes avoid yours.
he can get so shy sometimes. it's endearing. it makes you want to destroy him then put him back together again.
"honey, i can't give you what you need unless you tell me." you know what he wants, but you want to hear him say it.
"please"
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icallhimjoey · 2 days
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tubelift!joe was a sweetheart & reallllly wanted to find out what happened after they went separate ways !!!
jfc it's been a whole YEAR since tubelift!joe, thats insane! but here you go, have some of him! its only short, but hope you enjoy! (a/n: this story will make little sense if you've not read between floors and feelings) Wordcount: 1.8K
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Funny Story, Actually
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It had been ages, but you could still sense it every time. When you'd get onto the tube together, Joe's shoulders would tense as he'd look around the car, scanning his worried eyes over every single person there.
It was just to check. Just to settle something inside of him that was a little impossible to settle, you thought.
You remembered being one of those people, but witnessing it now, knowing what you knew, traveling through peak hours with him was hell.
You noticed how his knuckles lost all colour as he tightly held on to a handrail overhead, his lips all tight, his jaw clenched.
He looked hot.
But that wasn't the point.
"Hey," you poked Joe softly in the side to get his attention. "Did you say you had been to this place before?"
You knew he had been, but it was an easy way of distracting him from trying to make eye-contact with everyone, which he only did just in case he could see something there to worry about.
It literally helped no one, you knew.
"Oh, yea. Couple of times. You know how there's places that exceed your expectations every time you go? Very rare, that. This is one of those."
You smiled. He'd told you the exact same thing about four times, using a different way to describe how much he loved this restaurant each time.
You'd happily listen to him tell you again and again.
"Yea? What did you have last time?" you asked, softly, because not many others needed to hear you ask, or hear Joe's answer for that matter. To be fair, you didn't even need to hear it. You just needed Joe to step out of his tube-anxiety. It was only one more stop.
"Um, I had..." Joe narrowed his eyes for a second, thinking. And then, before he even remembered, he realised what you were doing. He let his breath escape him in a chuckled sigh and reached for your hand. Gave the tube car a last glance before fully turning towards you and giving you a silly face.
"You're a menace."
You scrunched your nose at him, knowing glances shared.
Joe kept hold of your hand when you got off the tube and made your way towards street level. When you were lead into a corridor of which the dead end just held the stainless steal doors to two lifts, you gave each other a look before turning around and finding another way out.
Absolutely no way you were risking it.
Ever since that one night, neither of you had ever stepped foot inside of a tube lift again.
You'd rather race each other up the Cover Garden tube station steps, all 193 of them, than get into an underground confined space like that again.
Even after the one you'd been stuck in had been fixed.
Even when you were in a group and your friends would go for the lift.
You'd go, "Loser gets the bill tonight!" and set off running up the steps, hoping you'd beat the elevator. You rarely did. And even after a while, it would still leave you out of breath. But getting a little exercise would forever win it over having to pee into a water bottle, so it was fine.
You'd take the stairs.
You easily found escalators that time, and you both went to stand on the right to let the system take you up. You turned around and let Joe curl his arms around your waist for a moment, tilting his head back and smiling up at you. It made you swipe at some worry lines that were permanently etched into Joe's forehead whenever you were underground before leaning down to give him a small kiss.
You beamed big smiles at each other, and you weren't sure what prompted you to join the crowd on the left side of the escalator, but you were quick as a flash as you stepped to the side and started bolting your way up the moving steps.
Joe followed just behind you, and you laughed as you felt him try to hold onto your coat in an attempt to keep up.
Happy.
There was just something about knowing you'd make it up and out without getting trapped for hours, you know?
After you touched-out, Joe turned to you slightly out of breath and said, "Maybe we need to start using car service to go places, because–"
"And give into the fear?" you scoffed. "Come on," you held up an arm and humorously flexed a non-existent bicep. "We're stronger than that!"
And you truly believed that, but you felt every single bit of strength leave your body when you got shoulder-checked hard enough to slam the air right from your lungs.
"Ahh," you immediately winced, spinning on your feet from the clash. Joe's hands were quick to find you, steadying you and preventing you from stumbling and falling.
"Sorry, so sor–..." a throat got cleared. "Sorry..."
The woman who had just roughly knocked half her body into yours looked down at her feet as she slung her bag back onto her shoulder, and, oh, my God, you couldn't fucking believe it.
"Linda."
Your former boss.
You sounded more surprised than anything else, because this was something you had dreaded for a while. Running into her. You'd heard that your ex-boyfriend had gone and moved in with her after he'd moved out of the studio you had shared, but that it had only lasted for a couple of weeks.
Served her right, you thought.
"Oh my God. Hi, I'm– sorry. I'm sorry. I hope I didn't hurt you?" Linda let a polite hand hover in front of your shoulder - the one you were still holding onto yourself - and gave a regretful smile.
Linda did hurt you.
A little now, but a lot before.
You know, back when you found your boyfriend making out with her in her office and you learnt from you colleagues that the affair had actually been happening for a while but they'd been too afraid to tell you because she was their boss too.
Vile wench of a woman.
You'd gotten your revenge though.
You still weren't proud of it, but... if you could do that night over again, the only thing you would change is that you would make sure you'd actually empty your full bladder into her bag that time.
You gave her a blank stare and then let your eyes drop to her bag.
Holy shit.
There was no way.
"I'm fine." you said coldly, but kept your eyes on her bag.
She saw, and it made her shuffle a little awkwardly
"Good. Okay, good. Sorry. I'm in a rush. We should catch up, soon. Sorry, again." Linda finished her sentence as she ran off, and you stared at her as she tapped-in with her phone and then disappeared down an escalator.
Huh.
Wow.
You felt weirdly okay about all of that, unexpectedly so.
You were definitely not going to be catching up with her soon, though.
When you turned to Joe, he gave you a worried little smile.
"There you are."
"Huh?"
"I asked you a question. Are you okay?"
You blinked up at him and realised you were stood in the middle of a busy bit of tube station. It was the exact wrong place to stand still, so you were quick to move with the crowd. Joe followed, hand on the small of your back.
"Who was that?"
"Oh, sorry. Um. That was Linda. She used to be my boss." you couldn't help the laugh that escaped you. "Remember my boss? How I caught–"
"I do." Joe cut you off, no need to repeat the painful story. He had remembered it fine from when you'd first told him, dirty wedding dress and crackling intercom as the background noise and all.
But tonight wasn't about awful memories.
You were about to have dinner with some of his friends - ones you'd met just once in brief passing but had never had a proper conversation with, and Joe was excited. You were going to love them, and he was sure that they were also going to love you.
"Wow... that was... that was weird. She fully crashed into me."
"Yea it was quite the collision, you nearly fell over."
"I'm okay." you assured him you were fine. The clash of shoulders had only hurt for a second.
Joe reached to hold your hand and threw you a warm smile as you made your way down the pavement.
"That's good."
"I think..." you started, eyes narrowing as you tried to remember. "I'm not joking, but I think she was carrying the bag that I... you know."
Joe's eyes bulged at you as his smile grew.
"What?! No way."
"That was the bag." You knew for sure. Kind of hard to forget the bag that you squatted over to piss right into. "I hope she got that professionally cleaned though, why the fuck would she even– wait, why did she keep that?"
Joe laughed at your outrage. He agreed though.
"Maybe she never noticed." he reasoned as you reached the restaurant. His reasoning made you frown at him though because, "Joe, I pissed over everything she had in there, there is no way she didn't–"
"All right, all right, keep it down, will you? This is a nice place." Joe laughed, helping you out of your coat as the host asked if you had a reservation.
Linda.
You couldn't quite get over how weird it was to be running into her in the tube with Joe there. It was almost kind of funny.
It felt like a weird full-circle moment, especially because you knew that whatever she had taken from you hadn't worked out for her in the end. Lost out on a star-employee (you) and on a mediocre boyfriend (your ex).
Maybe the bag was a good reminder for her.
Maybe it kept her grounded.
You had no idea.
The loud greetings from Joe's friends who were already there snapped you out of your thoughts. The restaurant was nice, and Joe's friends were lovely. It was nice to get to know Joe better through other people, but you kind of forgot that you were also a whole new person for others to meet. A person to ask questions about.
You weren't sure why you hadn't anticipated anyone asking the most obvious question you could be asked, but it nearly made Joe choke on his first sip of his drink.
"So, how did you two meet again?"
Joe looked at you over the table after making sure he didn't have any wine dripping down his chin, pursing a smile before giving you a tiny nod.
Joe's friends looked between the two of you, confused eyes darting back and forth because clearly they were missing an inside joke, or whatever.
Before anyone could ask, you cleared your throat and said, "Funny story, actually..."
---
The Taglisted
@ali-in-w0nderland, @alwayslindie, @babybluebex, @capricornrisingsstuff, @chaoticgood-munson,
@choke-me-eddie, @demonsanddemogorgons, @did-it-work, @dirtyeddietini, @djoseph-quinn,
@dolcevit4, @eddies-puppet, @emma-munson, @emotionaldreamer, @everythinghasafacee,
@figmentofquinn, @ghost-proofbaby, @ghostinthebackofyourhead, @hanahkatexo, @harringtonfan4,
@hazelenys, @jewellethief, @joesquinns, @keikoraven, @kennedy-brooke,
@lovelyblueness, @manda-panda-monium, @mandyjo8719, @mexicanfolklore, @munsonluvrr,
@munson-mjstan, @nadixq, @nglharry, @notverywise, @pepperstories,
@phyllosilicate-s, @royale1803, @sherrylyn0628, @sidthedollface2, @solzi1420,
@songforeddiemunson, @sweetberry47, @take-everything-you-can, @thebellenouvelle, @tlclick73,
@werepartnersnow, @winterwakesthewolf, @witchwolflea, @yelyahcardella, @yunirgo
taglist currently full, sorry
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eff4freddie · 3 days
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Touch | Part Eight
You and Ellie grow closer in Joel's absence. Jackson holds its breath for the return of the second expedition.
Words: 6k
Warnings: descriptions of injuries, angst, no smut I'm sorry
A/N: So this is the last big chapter of Touch. I'm planning a smutty epilogue because these two need a proper send off, but the main storyline ends here. Just want to thank you all for your support of this story, which was my first foray into writing fics for a long time. Thank you, thank you, thank you.
Part Seven | Series Masterlist
You and Ellie fell into a routine of sorts, occupying yourselves while waiting for news. In the morning Ellie would go down to the stables to ‘check the horses’, which you knew was code for her looking to see if Joel had slipped back into Jackson overnight, but he was her dad, and you didn’t begrudge it. You hated when she came back with her shoulders slumped.
Ellie had already decided she didn’t have to go to school given the circumstances, and you had no authority to fight her on it. Occasionally you would mention that Joel probably wouldn’t be pleased when he got back to discover she’d missed classes, and she had been so dismissive of the very idea that it took you right back to eighth grade, trying to hang out with the cool kids and being summarily ignored. You were basically her roommate. Roommates don’t nag each other to do their homework.
You were doing your own maths, anyway. If Marla had ridden through the night with Jacob strapped to her back it meant that the site of the ambush was a two-days ride away at a normal, non-life-threatening pace. It also meant it was a two-day ride back. If they encountered any nastiness on the way there or the way back that could waylay them for a few days, maybe more if there were injuries. And then, of course, there was the infinitely more complicated mathematics of how it would tally if they died. You weren’t sure what you would count, if that happened, if it wasn’t the days until they came back.
You wondered, if none of them made it back, where you would go. You would obviously have to leave Jackson, the destruction you, Ray and Marla wrought on the small community complete at that point. You just weren’t sure where, in which direction. Salt Lake sounded bad, and you were getting tired of the cold. You wondered if you would be able to make it down to the Gulf of Mexico, if you just headed south for as long as you could until you hit ocean. You knew it was unlikely you would be able to do it on your own, and you also knew that you would have to. That at the end of all this it was always going to be you, alone.
It didn’t hurt to think about. You were matter of fact about it. If they didn’t come back, you didn’t deserve to stay. You were pleased with the almost complete detachment you felt at the thought of it. At the freedom.
--
Maria and Robin dropped by while you were teaching Ellie the muscles of the back and neck, in the hope that she would have some kind of education upon Joel’s maybe-return. She was good at it, too, getting the hang of the Latin despite the language now being even more dead then when you leaned it. When they arrived, Ellie took Robin from Maria and cradled him in her arms, Maria showing her how to support the head while he dozed. For the first time since Ellie had arrived she was still, quiet, over-awed by the tiny, precious life in her arms. You took Maria into the kitchen and poured her some tea.
‘This takes me back,’ she said, and you grinned at her, offering to massage her feet. She demurred. ‘You don’t need to see what I’ve got going on under here,’ she said. ‘I mean, I haven’t seen it for months.’
You knew that Maria was checking on you, and you loved her for it and hated that she had to do it. Robin was only weeks old, barely a month, and yet she was nurturing you. You had barely seen her since the birth, since she had made you feel so necessary, so wanted, and your cheeks burned at the thought of it. The last two friends you had ended up dead or banished. You were just bad at it.
‘Hey,’ Maria said, like she could read your mind. She reached out and put her hand on yours, warm from the tea. ‘It must be weird…no, awful, to be the one left. I can’t imagine.’
You weren’t going to cry in your kitchen with Ellie in the other room holding Maria’s baby. That just wasn’t a thing that could happen. You swallowed hard, heard your jaw click under the strain.
‘I really like Ellie,’ you said, pain blooming from your temple into your eye socket. You consciously stretched your jaw, your hand over your mouth to try and cover it.
‘She’s a good kid, been through a lot,’ Maria agreed.
‘She’s a good distraction,’ you said, and Maria smiled at you.
‘I want you to know you have a place here,’ she said, and you wondered how she always knew the right thing to say, wondered if she could actually hear your thoughts. ‘Tommy…and me, well both of us, Tommy’s worried about you because…not just because of the expedition and the pharmacy and all of that going wrong, he’s worried that…’ Maria gathered herself for a second. ‘He’s worried that you only think of yourself in terms of what you can offer other people.’
You felt the sting of it, the little nerve Maria had unearthed, opened up to the chill of the air. You flinched away from it, but she was still holding your arm, and you realised you hadn’t noticed she hadn’t yet let you go. ‘Listen,’ she said, but kindly, and so you did. ‘When you came here, and we made you stand in front of the town council and basically said you could only stay if you contributed to the community…’
‘I understood that was how it works, of course it does,’ you said, and she raised her hand to shush you. You obeyed, again. She was growing into this mother thing.
‘I realised, we basically told you that all you’re worth to us is what you can do for us. Yes, its important everyone can contribute because that’s how we keep the place running. But I need you to know that’s not your value. I need you to know that.’
It was getting really hard not to cry. You could see her eyes misting over, her mouth in a grim line to bite back the tears. ‘I asked you to help me, to help with Robin, not because I wanted you to do something for me. It was just because…I just like you, is all.’
You didn’t even really think about it, you just grabbed her into your body and held her, and you felt her shaking a little, like she had been so terrified to tell you, and you didn’t want the Gulf of Mexico. You wanted her in your kitchen and Ellie in your loungeroom with Robin. You wanted Tommy chopping wood or storing coal or doing whatever the fuck manly shit needed doing around the place. You wanted Joel standing in his socks at the counter burning the toast and swearing under his breath about it. You wanted what you had always wanted, which was just to belong.
You pulled back from Maria, rubbing furiously at your eyes. She wiped the tears from hers.
‘I like you too,’ Ellie said, from the doorway, and you both startled, which made her jump a little, which jostled Robin, who delivered several pointed arguments about his thoughts on the experience.
‘Fuck, sorry,’ Ellie said, the panic written all over her face. ‘Oh fuck, I said fuck,’ she said, looking at you for help. You looked to Maria, who regarded you both with an amused expression on her face.
‘You two are as bad as each other,’ she said. She took Robin from her, and Ellie settled down at the table. For a second there was just the sound of Robin, grizzling in his mother’s arms.
‘Hey, Maria,’ Ellie said, lifting her hand to point to the muscle at the side of her neck under her ear. ‘Levator scap-yew-lay’ she said. You applauded her; genuinely, warmly, proudly.
--
You weren’t really ready to emerge from your cocoon, would have stayed hermitty and weird forever, except that Ellie wasn’t having it. For one she couldn’t sit still in the house for days on end, but she was still only fourteen and the idea that something might happen to her because you let her go out while you let yourself rot on the couch was even less palatable than having to be social.
The first time she took you to the mess hall you felt the anxiety at the bottom of your lungs, your sternum feeling like it had shrunk in your chest cavity. You were convinced people were staring, resentful of you and all that you brought with you. You didn’t want them to worry for Ellie, didn’t want them to wonder how you were going to corrupt her, end up with her dead or thrown out of the gates. You wanted to sit at one of the back tables, but Ellie was determined not to make any of it easy on you, and steered you over to the main table, the long one in the middle of the room, where a bunch of townsfolk were already chatting. You joined at the end of the row, feeling how you retracted into yourself, feeling your shoulders round over. Ellie sat opposite you and smiled at you, brightly. You realised she was treating you like some kind of project, a rehabilitate-the-crazy-lady experiment, maybe some kind of pet.
‘This is the soup they had the other week,’ Ellie said, gulping it down so fast you were worried she’d give herself indigestion. ‘The chicken one? Do you remember?’
You had no idea what she was talking about, and you stared at her.
‘I brought it round with half the loaf of bread. The kitchen ladies did not want me to have it. So, I swiped it while they were washing up.’
You felt something heavy roll in your stomach. ‘That was you? You brought the food?’ you asked, and you weren’t sure if – when you were finished being flawed – you were disappointed or relieved.
‘Yeah, didn’t you know?’ she asked, and you shook your head.
‘You didn’t leave a note or anything,’ you explained, feebly.
‘I guess not,’ she conceded.
‘I thought it might have been Tommy,’ you lied, unconvincingly, but Ellie wasn’t paying attention.
‘I mean, you were close. It was Joel’s idea,’ she said, and what you now realised was a full-sized boulder turned again in your gut.
‘It was?’ you squeaked, and she nodded into her nearly empty plate. You pushed your soup around, your mind trying too hard to digest this new information to turn itself to eating.
‘Did he say anything else?’ you asked, but you were interrupted by Tommy bursting into the mess hall, his eyes wide and scanning over the crowd.
‘They’re back!’ he called, and several people immediately rose, hustled for the door.
‘How many?’ someone yelled back, and Tommy nodded, but there was something wrong, something grim on his face that you didn’t want to acknowledge, didn’t want to even consider.
‘All of ‘em,’ he said, but then he faltered, and swallowed hard, and you knew, then, were already getting to your feet. ‘Some of them are in a bad way,’ he said, and he was looking at you and then looking at Ellie, and you were tucking her under your arm as you pulled her towards him at the door.
‘She shouldn’t see,’ he said to you, quietly, and you shook your head at him.
‘Try and fuckin’ stop me,’ she said, before you’d even had a chance to speak. He sighed, but you were past him then, your arm on the door pushing it open for her, shoving her through first.
--
The infirmary was only three rooms connected by a short corridor, and in times of serious outbreak or multiple injury it was woefully understaffed, under resourced.
There had already been some kind of make-shift triage for the returned residents, two of the men assigned to one room since they only needed looking over and could then be let go, but Dougie told you, pulled both you and Ellie aside to murmur in your ear, that Joel had his own room. The one next to the surgery.
‘Is he dead?’ Ellie asked, and if you didn’t know her as well as you now did you would have mistaken her bluntness for coldness, for desensitisation, but you knew instead that she was steeling herself, that if there was going to be pain she wanted it now, fast and hard, to rip into it with bared teeth.
Dougie shook his head, and you exhaled for maybe the first time, ever, in your life.
‘He’s not in a good way,’ Dougie said, but Ellie was already marching down the hall to see him, and you were already trailing behind her, your head over your shoulder to offer Dougie your whispered, harried thanks.
But you stopped when you got to his door, let Ellie slip through without you, suddenly considering that you could be intruding, that he had no interest in your being there, didn’t even know you’d been caring for his daughter while he was gone, or that she had been caring for you. You didn’t even really know him, weren’t sure how you felt about him, weren’t sure that you wanted to see him bleeding and broken, weren’t sure that you could handle not feeling his touch on yours again, his whispered encouragements as you came undone underneath him, the rise and fall of his chest under your ear as you both fought back sleep to stay awake together for just a little bit more increasingly precious time.
You’d marched down to the infirmary without even thinking about it, and now you were trapped in thinking too much about it, and what if he woke up and was angry at you again, found something else to throw in your face, and had you forgiven him for that or did that not even matter when he had nearly died, did arguments and anger and hurt just become nullified when the other person endangered themselves to protect you and the community you lived in, because that seemed like a dangerous precedent, and-
Ellie wrenched the door open and stared at you, paralysed, three steps away.
‘What the fuck are you doing?’ she said, reaching forward and pulling you in. ‘Get the fuck in here.’
It wasn’t like the movies. There wasn’t a beeping machine, a screen counting out his heart rate, his breaths. He had a little tube up his nose feeding him oxygen but he wasn’t in a white gown, wrapped up neat and tidy under a woven blanket. He was lying, still in his boots, crooked on an old, rusted gurney. Your eyes travelled over him, taking stock; the left eye swollen shut, the abrasion to the cheek suggesting a fractured orbital bone, the red and purple swelling across his brow and up to his temple. The blood under his fingernails, the makeshift splint trying and failing to straighten his obviously broken wrist. You stepped forward and opened his shirt, scanning for more injuries across his skin, found a deep gash in his side and countless bruises, something mottled and purple underneath his ribs. Like he’d been kicked while he was on the ground, while he was already down.
You felt a flash of anger, tears spilling over your cheeks. He was out cold, pale and shivering, and you raised your hands to his midsection, felt the wound there, deep and angry and so close to his spleen.
‘We checked him already, he’s not bit,’ Dougie said from the doorway, and you wiped at your face, set your mouth in a line, intended to turn and address him but couldn’t move from Joel. You felt Ellie standing at your shoulder, observing you as you checked him over. ‘He’s going to need half the supplies they brought back with them,’ Dougie said, laughing a little as if this was funny.
‘They got them?’ Ellie asked, and Dougie nodded to her.
‘Some are dangerously expired, but others are just…expired,’ he said. ‘I gave him some of the morphine, even though he was already out.’
‘He has a head injury,’ you pointed to his collar where dried blood was staining the pillow brown. ‘Are you sure that’s safe?’
‘I stitched him up,’ Dougie said, defensive. 
‘What if there’s internal…’ and you stopped yourself then, because Ellie was in the room, and her eyes kept swivelling back to Joel, back to his body, back to the blood. ‘The mottling,’ you said, without further explanation, in the hope that Dougie had managed to find that part of the textbook.
‘We don’t have many options, if there is,’ he said, and you felt yourself get woozy.
‘What have you done so far?’ you asked, and Dougie just stared at you for a second, and you were going to throttle him, actually kill him in this place of healing, if he didn’t answer at least one question properly in the next twenty seconds.
‘We can give him a transfusion, keep his blood pressure up.’
‘Tommy,’ Ellie piped up. ‘They’d have the same blood right? They’re brothers.’
You nodded at her, and she ran from the room. In her absence, you turned to Dougie.
‘Tell me,’ you said, simply, and he sighed.
‘It’s a wait and see game,’ he said. ‘If there’s serious internal bleeding we’d need to operate but…’ you looked around the room, observed the notable absence of a sterile field.
‘I can’t,’ you said, and you weren’t totally sure what exactly you were referring to, but that didn’t make it any less true.
Joel stirred in his sleep, just enough for you to swivel around to him, plant yourself down on a chair and grab at his hand.
‘Joel,’ you said, not sure if he could hear you, hoping he could, hoping he wasn’t in any pain and knowing it was impossible that he wouldn’t be. ‘Joel, I have Ellie, and she’s doing so well,’ you said, murmuring into his unresponsive face. ‘I have her, Joel, so you just rest, OK? You just get better.’
You reached up and gently, carefully, put your hand in his hair, rested it over his right temple, seemingly more intact than the left.
‘We just need you to get better, Joel,’ you said. ‘We all do.’  
You thought for a second you heard a grunt under the gentle rhythm of his breath. ‘Be OK, baby,’ you said, one hand in his hair and the other gripping his. ‘Just rest, and be OK.’
--
Tommy’s transfusion raised Joel’s blood pressure, which was good but also indicated that he had lost a lot of blood. Dougie showed you how to check his blood pressure manually with a cuff and a watch, and you kept an eye on it every hour. If it kept dropping, there was likely internal bleeding.
It remained stable through the night.
What had happened out there became clearer as the morning progressed, as the other riders were patched up. The group from Jackson had managed to find the pharmacy, had cleared it out and secured the perimeter, before turning back the way they came.
The remaining raiders, those who had managed to escape their pet clickers, had been tracking Marla’s path back to Jackson. They had seen how well-equipped Marla was, how strong Jacob had been, how well he had been able to muster up a defence. They’d figured that meant they were well fed, well stocked, that there would be somewhere worth pillaging if they could get to it.
They were young but they were clever, probably only just born on outbreak day, and they’d managed to circle the group before Joel had noticed them. He’d shot one of them point blank, rearing his horse back to try and get to the others before they could clock what was happening, but the younger men had been quicker. He’d fallen from his horse, or maybe shoved off, it wasn’t clear in the chaos, and they’d tried to drag him, pulled him by the arms away from the group, stomped on his ribs a few times. He’d fought them the whole way, scoring a couple of gashes to his chest and abdomen in the process. It was only when the dust had settled, when the three raiders were dead and Joel was struggling to mount his horse, seemingly unable to coordinate his limbs, that they noticed the blow to his head. He’d been woozy, then, stumbling over his words, but they’d managed to get him upright on the horse enough to limp back to Jackson. They’d almost made it back when Joel blacked out completely, falling forward into his horse’s neck and not sideways, this small stroke of luck possibly saving him from an even worse fate.  
You listened to all of it, this breathless retelling of actual and near death. You could hear, even through the exhaustion and the pain, the awe the second expedition party held for Joel. That he had seen the raiders, maybe heard them, maybe smelt them, that he was so fast on the draw, so accurate with his shot, so quietly deadly. That he had gone down swinging. That he had come back up.
These stories drifting down the hallway to you, to where Joel lay. Your eyes raked over his body, his wrist now properly splinted and bandaged, his wounds sewn up. He drifted in and out of consciousness, aided by the expired morphine, but he tended to come back to the world fighting. The first time he’d nearly knocked Ellie off the end of the bed, had ripped the breathing tube out of his nose so hard he’d permanently bent it, had been wild eyed and terrified and so lethal, so deadly, as you grabbed his face and turned it to yours, told him where he was, told him who he was, while Dougie injected more drugs under his skin. After he had slipped back under, you liked to imagine that before the drugs he had been relieved to see you, that you had eked out a measure of comfort for him, that he knew you were there, that he wanted you to be.
The second time you sent Ellie away. It was late and Joel was finding new and creative ways to swear the infirmary into the ground, and you could sense the worry in her. You reassured her you’d stay with him, that you didn’t need anything to eat, could sleep in the chair by the bed. That she shouldn’t have to see this, that she didn’t need to hurt herself just to keep him close. You would do that for her. You would reach into yourself and carve away a space for him. Keep yourself hollowed out and aching, should he decide to make a home between your ribs.
You had already decided that when he woke properly you would leave him there, go and get Ellie and Tommy. Not intrude on the family. Go and sit in your little kitchen and run your fingertips over the kitchen table, let the wood grain catch on your skin, scrape the cells from you where you had held his hand.
You didn’t expect to sleep, so you startled awake, confused and aching in places you didn’t know you had from the stupid fucking chair, when Joel stirred again. Judging by the darkness it could only have been 3 AM, maybe 4. You steeled yourself for whatever destruction Joel was about to bring down on his own sick bed, lifted his hand in yours to your cheek, rested your face in his palm, hoped the weight and the heat of it would settle him, would ground him. You heard him clear his throat. This time, however, he was just exhausted, just himself.
‘I can go,’ you offered, too quickly considering he was still orienting himself, and you cringed, started to backtrack. ‘You’re in the infirmary,’ you started again, collecting yourself, watching his face for any hint of fear, any hint of anger.
‘Ellie,’ he croaked, his voice dry.
‘She’s staying with me, she’s OK,’ you said, reaching out to put a hand on his shoulder and then pausing, doubting, dropping it instead to the pillow.
‘Thirsty,’ he grunted.
‘Oh,’ you said, immediately snapping upwards and nearly knocking yourself out on the lamp over the bed. ‘Right, of course.’ Dougie had brought you water and a packet of dry ramen noodles approximately seventeen years past their use-by-date. You poured him a glass, cradling his neck to help him angle himself to drink it. You felt the heat of his skin on your arms as you lifted him. You didn’t think about it. Not at all.
‘Do you hurt anywhere?’ you asked, and he grunted at you. You knew it was a stupid question, and you tried again. ‘Do you want me to get Dou…the doctor, to get you some more drugs?’
‘Not yet,’ he whispered. You leant in close to him so that you could hear, and he fixed you then with a gaze sharper than anyone who had been unconscious for as long as he had should have been able to. ‘Makes me fuzzy and I want to…’ he trailed off, his eyes scanning your face.
‘I didn’t come to you about Marla because I think you’re a killer,’ you said, realised you had been waiting to say it to him, hoping he would wake up so you could finally set him straight. ‘I came to you because I knew you wouldn’t be cruel. I knew you’d do it well. Respect her.’
He lifted an arm as if he was going to cradle your jaw in his hands, but his face shifted into pain the moment he moved. You realised his ribs would be screaming in protest, and you grabbed his arm and forced it back to the mattress. ‘Don’t,’ you said, ‘it’s OK, I’m here.’
Joel turned his eyes to the ceiling, and you could tell that he was hurting. ‘I’m going to get you the drugs, you can’t just lie here like this…’ you said, standing up again. He grabbed your arm to stop you turning away from him, his grip strong, as he kept his eyes on the ceiling.
‘Ask me why,’ he grunted, through gritted teeth.
‘Why what?’ you asked, and saw the way he was bracing against the pain, felt a shot of frustration with yourself for prolonging it with your stupid fucking questions. ‘Why?’ you asked him.
‘Wanted to be a good man for once,’ he said. You sucked in a breath. ‘For Ellie,’ he went on, closing his eyes. ‘For you.’
You could feel something coming loose in you, a snapping of a hinge, the whine of a rusted and long-abandoned cellar door.
‘Joel,’ you said, because there wasn’t much else you could say in that moment, trying so hard to hold down the stirring turmoil in your chest. He held up his hand to stop you, almost waving you away, and you knew it was because it was hurting him to stay awake, hurting him to say it out loud, hurting him to hear you upset and not being able to soothe it for you. So much hurting in this bruised, bloodied body.
‘Let me…the drugs,’ you said, pulling yourself away from him, feeling his fingers grasp for you. ‘I’ll be here when you wake up,’ you reassured him, his eyes closed and his jaw tight. ‘I’ll be here,’ you said again, saw him nod, took the permission to finally, finally relieve him.
--
You weren’t there.
Couldn’t bring yourself to be, unnerved by the way his gaze snapped to yours, the way he had grasped for you, the way you felt the fracture of something vital, something that had kept you alive all these years. You sent Ellie in first thing in the morning, told her that he was calmer overnight and that you needed a proper sleep, set yourself up on the couch and tried not to think about it, tried to close your eyes and let sleep take you, felt it abandon you like you’d just done Joel.
You figured he wouldn’t remember it, what you had promised him, what he had said. The morphine would wash it away, would cleanse it from him. You would need to carry it, feel it sloshing around against your legs as you walked, but you were OK with that so long as it was only yours.
You busied yourself, cleaned up a little around the house because living with an un-housebroken teenager was a challenge in itself, went to the mess hall and bartered for a loaf of bread and a parcel of butter no bigger than a quarter, wrapped up in grease paper. That butter was going to cost you two massages but you knew Ellie preferred it, that without it there was so little flavour you could offer her.
You thought about going to Maria’s, thought about lifting Robin’s forehead to your lips and feeling his gentle, simple warmth thaw you out. But you worried Tommy would be there, that he would ask you why you weren’t with Joel, that he would ask you why had been, why you’d spent nearly three days at his bedside only to abandon him the second he was vaguely aware you were there.
You didn’t know how to explain. You couldn’t even get it straight in your own head. You wanted to cower from it, the strength of it, the weight. You took the back way back to your house, hoped you would slip out of everyone’s mind if you stayed out of sight.
Tommy was on your doorstep when you got there. Of course he was.
‘He’s askin’ for ya,’ he said, simply. You felt your shoulders drop, the defeat ripping up your spine, and you shrugged at him, your bottom lip wobbling.
‘I don’t know what to do,’ you said, simply, the six words that could kill you in an apocalypse. Tommy didn’t pretend not to understand. He took the packages from your arms, left you standing on the porch while he went inside and set them down. Came back out carrying a warm jacket for you and a cushion from the couch.
‘That damn ‘firmary chair is awful,’ he said, and you gave him a watery smile. ‘He’s askin’ for ya, so that’s what we’ll do,’ he said. You nodded at him. He took your elbow, led you down into the town.
‘It’ll be Spring soon,’ he said, making conversation, as you sniffed into the midday cold. ‘Jackson’s so beautiful in Spring, the wildflowers, the new leaves on the trees. You’ll love it.’
You nodded again, barely listening, wondering if you would ever be able to form actual sentences again. ‘S’new life,’ Tommy went on, ‘everything feels new. Like comin’ out of somethin’. Like a crack under the door where the light gets in.’
‘I don’t know if I can do this,’ you said.
‘Which part?’
‘All of it,’ you answered, sweeping your arms in front of you.
‘Well, you gotta do somethin’, so it might as well be this,’ Tommy said. It occurred to you that Maria’s ability to drop truth bombs at exactly the right moment was rubbing off on Tommy. You’d need to have a word to her about it.
Tommy led you into the infirmary, as if you didn’t have the place mapped like the back of your hand at that point, and down towards Joel’s room. He stopped at the door, and you realised he’d come as far as he was going to go. You looked at him, hoping for some final wisdom that might push you over the line.
‘What if he’s mad at me?’ you asked, feeble and weak.
‘He’s askin’ for ya,’ Tommy said, one last time, and you finally understood. You felt prickling heat at the back of your eyes, but Tommy had the good grace not to mention it, not to try to comfort or soothe, knew that it would make it worse somehow, bring it too close. With a shaky hand, you pushed open the door.
Joel was propped up, awake and gazing out the window at the street. He turned to you as you walked in, and your breath left you. The swelling around his eye had gone down, he was already looking less purple and bloodied than the night before, was more alert, was more him. You paused in the doorway, took him in as he waited for you.
‘Hi’, you said, barely above a whisper. You were gripping your hands in front of you, shivering in the doorway. You waited for him to yell, to thrash, to chew you out for leaving him to wake up alone and in pain.
You didn’t expect his eyes to mist over, for his bottom lip to tremble. For him to be soft, for him to need you.
‘C’mere,’ he said, lifting his good arm up to beckon you, and you fell into the four steps to him, launched yourself at his bed, gripped him by the waist and lay your head on his good shoulder, ignored his sharp intake of breath as you jostled him. You felt the tears spill over, your face tucked into his elbow while he ran his hands through your hair, and he held you as you sobbed into him.
This time, you knew it was for all of them. For the entire balance sheet, for the grand tally. For your parents, for Marla and for Ray, for Maria who so very much reminded you of your sister, for nearly losing Joel, for Ellie tucked up in your bed pretending she wasn’t counting the seconds until his return. For the love you held for all of them, your collection of losses and grief, for the realisation that all this time you hadn’t been feeling the absence of love but the presence of it, its full force, that it hadn’t gone anywhere, that so long as the love stayed so did they, in just enough of a way to sustain you.   
‘M’sorry,’ you muttered after a while, trying to pull back. He held you firm to him, his chin on the top of your head.
‘Scared ya, I guess,’ he said, and you could only nod.
‘There’s so much that scares me,’ you whimpered, and he grunted his agreement.  
‘M’scared too,’ he said. You raised your head to look at him, to understand, and he gazed down at you. ‘This is somethin’. Right?’ he asked, his voice giving out on the question.  
‘Think so,’ you said. He smiled, warmly, down at you, lifted a hand to rub at his face.  
‘We did it arse-backwards,’ he said, and you waited for him to explain. ‘Haven’t even dated ya, and here we are clingin’ to each other like…’ He trailed off, and you weren’t sure how you wanted him to finish that sentence, were sure you just wanted to continue to rest your head on his chest while he spoke, wanted to hear the timbre of it, feel the resonance.
‘Like it’s the end of the world?’ you finished for him, eventually. He chuckled.
The two of you fell into a silence, a warm one, a silence filled with all the words you were going to get to say to each other, when the time was right.
‘Is there anything you need? Anything I can do?’ you asked, after a long while.
‘Don’t need you to do anythin’ more than you already have. Just be patient with me, baby. S’been a long time since I felt this’ he said.
You reached over and took his hand from where it rested on his belly, turned his fingers over in the grey light from the window, examined the cracks, the swelling, the cuts. You lifted a knuckle to your lips, tasted the copper across your tongue, the tang of it, the life under his skin.
Gently, so gently, you held him there, felt his pulse against your skin, felt his body give, the tension in his muscles unspool. Heard his breathing slow, his other arm gripping tight around you. You let your eyes drift close, not having to see him to know that he was right there, in this moment with you. That he was with you, that this was the two of you.
That you had his touch. That he had yours.
Taglist:
@orcasoul
@archofimagine
@hiroikegawa
@ilovejoel-andjavi
@giggly-otter
@harrysrosetatto
@Hjzghi-blog
@daddy-dins-girl
@kathaaaaaaa
@anoverwhelmingdin
@pedropascalsbbg
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sturnsbabie · 2 days
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DEAR OWEN AND LEO
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PART FOUR: HOW TO GO INTO LABOR
pairing: dad!nate x sls!reader
summary: in which nate and sls try out different things to help her go into labor but one thing in particular helps.
warnings: swearing, SLIGHT SMUT, mentions of labor,pain,crying
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i was 36 weeks pregnant with the twins and considered full term. the doctors said i can go into labor at any given time.
i researched ways to help induce labor and i have been trying almost everything and not a single one has helped so far.
my doctors done a membrane sweep, nate and i have took numorous long walks and we have even been fucking more then we have because its supposed to help induce labor.
i was so ready to get these babies out of me, i love carrying them in my belly but i wanna be able to cuddle them and watch nate be a dad.
as of right now nate had my legs hanging over his shoulders as he pounded into me hitting every right spot.
this was the only postion we could really do anymore because of my belly being so big from carrying the twins.
i gripped onto the sheets as he kept pounding into me as i felt myself starting to clench around him.
“fuck baby” he groaned as he threw his head back.
his hips hit mine as my orgasm was growing closer and closer.
“gonna cum!” i moaned out as he reached down rubbing my clit.
“cum for me princess.” he said as he suddenly pulled out slamming back into me as i felt myself cum around him coating his cock with my cum.
he fucked my threw my high then suddenly he pulled out painting my thigh with his seed.
he grabbed a towel wiping me off then laid down beside of me pulling me into his arms.
he pressed a soft kiss to my lips. “i love you” he said.
“i love you too” i said.
we just laid there and cuddled and watched the random movie he put on til we both fell asleep.
.•°♡°•.
it was around two o’clock and i woke up in the middle of the night as i started to feel contractions coming along. this was normal as i had a few contractions here and there but they havent been that bad.
i laid there for awhile as the contractions started to get more and more intense. i grabbed my phone and started to time them as they were starting to get closer together.
i sat up in bed for turning the light on holding my belly and taking deep breathes timing the contractions before getting up and throwing on a hoodie and a pair of shorts.
as i got up and put on nates hoodie and my shorts i felt a sudden pop feeling then a gush of fluid ran down my leg.
“NATE!” i yelled as i saw the fluid running down my leg.
he suddenly jolted awake sitting up. “what?is everything okay!?” he asked as i started to feel another contraction coming.
“no!my water just broke and im having contractions back to back!” i said as i winced in pain at the contraction.
“get dressed and grab the bags we need to fucking go!” i said as i sat down on the bed calling my mom and telling her everything that was going on. she told me that her and my dad would meet us at the hospital with my brothers.
nate instantly got out of bed throwing on a pair of sweats and a hoodie slipping on his shoes and grabbing the bags.
“cmon!” he said as he helped me to the car.
once we were in the car he started to speed a bit trying to get to the hospital as fast as he can because my contractions were getting pretty rough.
“nate please fucking hurry! we wouldve done better if i wouldve fucking drove!” i said as i was taking deep breaths holding onto my stomach.
.•°♡°•.
it had been atleast a hour since we got to the hospital. they immediately took me to labor and delivery putting me in a room.
they checked my cervix and everything and i was only dilated to a 5 i needed to be to a ten before we could start the pushing process.
nate was currently in the room as both of our families were waiting in the waiting room.
“you okay princess?” nate asked me causing me to grow irritated at his question.
“does it fucking look like im okay?!im literally in labor and you’re over here like oh are you okay?!” i said as i rolled my eyes as i felt a contraction come along.
“sorry princess.” he said kissing my forehead which i moved away from.
i love nate , but at the moment i didnt want him bothering me right now. i just needed to be left alone. i just wanted my brother chris.
“i cant believe you did this to me!” i said as i held onto my belly as another strong contraction happened.
“you were the one like oh baby please fill me up” nate said.
thats what made me snap at him and i grabbed whatever was closest to me which was a plastic cup throwing it at him which he ducked.
“okay okay sorry princess” he said as he sat down beside of me.
suddenly the pain started to get worse as tears started to stream down my face. “can you please leave and tell chris to come here” i said.
“yeah of course.” he got up kissing my forehead and left to go get my brother.
growing up i was always closer to chris then my other brothers. we would have matching outfits, and we would always play games together and build blanket forts in my room. hes also always been my number one comfort person.
i couldnt lie i was nervous to give birth. this was all a new thing to me. im ready to become a mom but the thought of me pushing the twins out soon is scary.
after a few minutes chris walked into the room and i just bursted out into tears as he walked over to me.
“chris..can you hold me?” i asked him and he nodded immediately getting into the hospital bed as he laid next to me.
“its gonna be okay.” he pulled me into his arms holding me as my head was on his chest.
“im scared.” i said crying into his chest as he was playing with my hair.
“you got this sis, you’re the strongest person i know.” he said as he wiped my tears.
“why cant you do this for me!” i whined.
he let out a chuckle. “if i was able to i would.” he said.
“chris it hurts so bad” i said as i felt a intense contraction start to happen as i let out a loud sob.
“shhh its gonna be okay. itll all be worth it because here soon your two precious little boys will be here.” chris said as he started to rub my back.
“i cant wait to watch what a amazing mom to little owen and leo you’re gonna be. my baby is having babies and it makes me so sad but so happy that you’re growing up.” chris said as he started to have tears run down his cheek.
“youre gonna be such a good uncle to them, i cant wait to watch you justin nick and matt with my boys.” i said.
he chuckled. “im gonna be the favorite uncle.” he said.
i giggled as we talked for awhile as he distracted me as we talked about random topics distracting me from the contractions that i was having.
about ten minutes later the nurses come in to check how far ive dilated.
“oh wow you’re at a ten now! let me get the doctor and itll be time to have your babies!” she said.
“chris go get mom and nate hurry.” i said as i started to get nervous.
he nodded and got up and ran out to the waiting room to get our mom and nate.
its time finally see these sweet boys.
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TAGLIST:@sturniololoves , @shinycreationtimemachine , @amaliarosewood , @realuvrrr , @certifiednatelover , @chr1sgirl4life , @thatssocancelled , @aurora-merritt , @ilovechrissturniolosposts , @sturniolo04 , @luvvholly , @riowritesitall , @jake-and-johnnies-slut , @freshloveee , @heyitsmemia
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darlingsfandom · 21 hours
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Let Me Show You .
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Dr. Johnathan Crane x Plus Sized! Reader.
TW: humiliation , choking, breeding, fingering, p in v, unprotected sex!
Lighting flashed across the sky giving some light into your cell where you laid on the soft bed. It wasn’t your fault that you ended up in here, how long does it last until you can’t the taunting anymore? For you it lasted your whole life until ten months ago when the coil inside of you snapped!
You had made yourself face the public and go out one night. You just needed one night to go out and try to be social but that ended with you on top of a man punching him until your knuckles were bloodied and bruised as he laid there laughing until he started to go unconscious. He had pulled on your hair while you were trying to make your way to the bars bathroom making you gasp so he took it as a challenge with his friends. He teased you by calling you ugly names , commenting on how your clothes really outlined your rolls , how you looked like a made up pig! You had enough! The words you’ve heard for your whole life finally took its toll and now here you were lying in the asylum.
You stood trail and since you had a squeaky clean record along with one of the best public defenders in all of Gotham you only had to serve six months unless you followed good behavior and could get out earlier. The sentence was fair and you were to also be under the care of Dr.Johnathan Crane Gothams best psychiatrist. That was the best part. He didn’t see you as another patient, probably because almost everyone there was another male and you were one of the only females in there. Of course they didn’t have love handles or tummy rolls like you and it still irritated you.
The sound of your cell opening perked up your ears making you sit up.
“Good evening Y/N” The sly smile on his lips made you tingle in a way that it shouldn’t. Dr.Crane waited for you to stand so he could take you to his office for your mandatory session. Both of you walked in silence until you were in his office standing nervously . “You know you can sit. You’ve sat on that couch every day for the last month, what’s the matter now ?” He circled around like a shark in water making your thighs clench.
“What if I break…”
“You’re not going to break it!” He snapped at you before grabbing your shoulders and looking into your eyes. “Go sit on it!” You swallowed hard before you carried yourself to the black leather and sat on the edge. “All the way.” He spoke up. You nodded and sat in the middle of the couch folding your hands in your lap.
“Clearly you’re not doing what I’ve told you.” Dr. Crane sat in his own chair with his legs crossed. You couldn’t argue with him. He raised his eyebrow at you and clicked his tongue before pinching the bridge of the his nose.
“I know you think that since I’m male that I know nothing of how the female brain works. That I don’t understand that when you look in the mirror that your poke at all your insecurities. You THINK that you’re ugly because your stomach folds and hangs, your arms jiggle when you raise them and your delicious thighs…” he coughed “I mean your thighs, yes they touch and rub but you need that.”
Your mouth hung open for a split second when he called your thighs delicious, that was a joke right? You looked down at your feet while holding your stomach. Dr.Crane stood up , walked up to you , grabbed your hand and stood you up. He walked with you out of his office, down the hallway to a part of the asylum you had never seen before. It was dark, wet and yet still felt welcoming. He opened a door and pulled you inside.
“Where?” Before you could finish your sentence he had his hand over your mouth.
“Shh. This is our secret.” He whispered in your ear when he flicked on the light. The room wasn’t big, it was poorly lit, a single bed in the middle of the room and in the corner was a giant mirror. He walked you over to the mirror and made you stand there. You tried to turn away but he grabbed you by your wide chin and forced you to look at yourself.
“You’ve heard how ugly you are , how you’re unwanted , unattractive…” his words were bringing tears to your eyes as you looked yourself in the mirror. “You look like a barnyard animal, but that’s what years of damage do to the ego. You’ve been brainwashed into thinking you’re all those things.”
Dr. Crane stood behind you in the mirror holding your face with a soft grip. “Now I want you to say all the nice things about your body.”
“I can’t ! My body is ug-“ His hand quickly wrapped around your throat and squeezed enough to take your breath away.
“Say something nice.” He gritted his teeth against your ear. He let go of your throat making you gasp.
“My… body.. “ your hands ran over your stomach as he watched with darkened eyes.
“Is soft?” He gave you a decent smile.
“There you go. Nothing wrong with having a soft body.” His hands ran over your sides before giving your love handles a big squeeze making you giggle. “How cute!” Crane gave your hips another squeeze before pulling them towards his own hips.
“Tell me something else nice about your soft beautiful body.” His words had a hint of lust wrapped around them. Crane watched as you chewed your lip looking at yourself through the dirty glass. His hand found your throat again and squeezed it enough to make your eyes roll back.
“It’s not that hard darling!” Crane used his free hand to grope your boobs. “These are nice! Say something nice about them.” He let go of you with a small shove making you stumble forward. Your hands gripped the mirror. No thoughts were in your mind , no words could leave your mouth.
“Fine, if you can’t say it…. I’ll show you.” His hands reached up and ripped opened your shirt exposing your breasts. “See!” He yanked you up straight by your hair making you whine. The little whine made him smirk. “Look at your breasts!”
“They’re not that …” Crane slapped your face making you whimper before forcing you to look at yourself in the mirror.
“You’re too hard on yourself darling. You’re a beautiful girl .” He finished ripping your clothes off making you stand in front of the mirror completely naked. He grinned ear to ear. “Look at you!” He ran his hands all over your body giving your most hated areas a squeeze. “I don’t know anyone couldn’t find you attractive. You’re a smart young lady with beautiful curves, delicious thighs and your breasts … “ Crane kissed the side of your neck making your knees buckle. He held your hips as he bent you forward . Your fingers gripped the sides of the mirror while Crane dragged his finger tips over your thighs.
Your body felt hot from his touch. You couldn’t tell if he just wanted you for sex or if he truly did find your body to be beautiful. Your thoughts disappeared when his hands spread your thighs.
“Since you’re struggling to accept how beautiful you are, maybe this will teach you.” His index finger slid inside of you while his other hand squeezed the side of your throat keeping your head turned to face the mirror. “It’s my job as your doctor to make sure you get those nasty ideas out of your head.” Crane worked his finger inside of you twisting it in a way you’ve never felt. You were so used to your hand and toys but to feel his slender finger going deeper than your use to felt amazing. He slid another finger inside of you while keeping the soft pressure on your neck. Your eyes were closed which angered him until he heard you mumbling.
“feels so good.” Your voice was trembling which made him smile.
“Yeah? Why does it feel good?”
“Because you’re touching me! You see my soft body!”
“Good girl!” Crane nibbled your ear lobe while fingering your pussy like his life depended on it. “You’re so close, I can tell.”
“Yes! Yes! Yes! Dr. crane I’m so close!” You cried out. The coil in your stomach was about to snap right there at any second until he pulled his fingers away making you whine.
“Oh honey, you don’t get to cum now. You were a bad girl. You can’t even tell me what you like about your body.” Crane licked his fingers clean while watching how you pouted your bottom lip at him through the mirror. Once he was done he grabbed your hand and took you over to the old style medical bed that had leather straps.
“Nooo!” You went to run but he grabbed your hair and yanked it backwards.
“Don’t be dumb. I’m not going to hurt you.” He shoved you down on the bed making your squirm below him. You gulped in panic as he huffed. “Normally yes, my patients get strapped down and are subjected to unusual treatments for therapy but not you.” He stood up and quickly restrained your arms. “You my dear… I’m going to make you a mommy.”
Your eyes went huge! You quickly tried to struggle against the leather which made him chuckle before gripping your chin. “Stop! Or I will subject you to those type of treatments.” He gave you a little smack before standing there undressing himself slowly. Tears filled your eyes until you looked at him and it flooded your mind… Dr.Crane was on the opposite end of the scale. He wasn’t buff or anything, he did understand your pain. People always judged his body, how fragile he looked. He was beautiful to you and he had spent all this time making you see that you are beautiful just the way you are.
“Dr. Crane..” you mumbled as he crawled on top of you. His fingers traced over your cheek gently almost lovingly.
“What is it ?” He pushed his glasses up his nose.
“Why me? Why make me a mommy? Why would you put a baby in me?” You turned your lips out at him as he looked into yours.
“Because you are mine! You’re the smartest girl I’ve ever met. Not mention you can kill a man with your bare fists. A strong, smart, beautiful woman, you’re what I’ve always needed and now I’ve you and you’re not going anywhere . You see…” his hands grabbed at your thighs and spread them open . He grinned down at your pussy before lining the head of his cock up to your folds, slowly he slid in while grabbing your hands and locking your fingers together.
“When I heard about, I followed you. I watched your trail closely. I learned everything I could about you. I need you! You need me.” He pushed his cock all the way inside of you making you scream. “Oh pretty girl!” He moaned out. “That’s a good girl.” Crane closed his eyes at the feeling of how tight you were squeezing his cock. You laid there with tears running down your cheeks as he thrusted into you. Your legs were still unrestrained which meant you could try to kick him off, but he held your legs up to drill into you deeper making you moan in pleasure because he was reaching at spot you’ve never felt.
“You’re going to be such a beautiful mommy! Going to make such beautiful, intelligent babies with you !” His mouth hung open while he looked deep into your ears as he fucked you faster. You looked into his eyes softly while wrapping your legs around him tightly.
“Good girl, you want me to make you a mommy so badly .” He leaned down and kissed you passionately , it was romantic and sweet. Crane felt his own orgasm about to break as he slowed down his thrusting holding your hips tightly. He cried out your name with a loud groan and held you in place as his cum shot deep into your cervix.
“You’re going to make me a beautiful mommy.” You whimpered feeling his cum fill you up. Crane looked up at you with a smile . “I knew that would fix you.” He huffed as he held your legs in the same upward position. Crane reached down between your bodies and found your clit. He rubbed it hard until the familiar feeling was about to wave over you.
“Cum for me pretty girl!” He looked into your eyes as your orgasm gushed out of you. You choked out his name as he held your face in his hands.
“You did such a good job. And don’t worry , if this time didn’t take…. I’m not going to stop until you and I have made the most precious thing ever.” His words were sincere. Dr.Crane had made his mark on you more ways than one and you would have never imagined that this is how you ended up in life, but all of it lead you here as his.
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flowergirlzz · 2 days
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✿ damned if you do, and damned if you don't summary: simon reminisces about your relationship...more specifically about what went wrong in it. wc: 2.8k
a/n: i listened to something in the orange by zach bryan on repeaaat while writing this piece of angst and I'm not sure if I'm really happy with the way it turned out...anywayzz
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simon "ghost" riley was not a man unfamiliar to loss.
the feeling of it. how it at first erupts like a bomb whose timer has reached second zero, quickly spreading through one´s body, tickling one´s nervous system and sending signals to one´s brain. forcing itself in and making itself known. there is no hiding from that first wave of loss, no denying its disquiet sensations settling themselves into every empty space. filling. suffocating.
how it after the initial shock settles down with no more space to spread itself, having accomplished its mission of infecting every part of one´s waking life. instead quieting down and disguising itself as normal. the calm after the storm one could say.
except for the fact that the calm only was visible from an outside perspective, and that the storm never really left.
simon had learned to deal with loss decades ago. although never really leaving him, it faded into the background, became a quiet part of him that almost exclusively slipped through when the sun had set and the moon had taken its place. when the wind seemed to hum chilling melodies of forgotten stories through his cracked open window and when the only birds that were still up were owls. that's when it slipped through. like blood finding its way through badly sewn stitches it haunted him. so close to closing the wound, accepting the loss, but not being able to hold it together for long enough to let it heal.
not that it really bothered him anymore. simon may not be a big talker, always blending into whichever secure background presented itself to him and observing. a look over his shoulder every couple minutes. old habits die hard or whatever the saying was.
but he was a thinker. had reflected on every life changing event that had crossed his path. over and over again he pondered over what had led to which consequences. what could have been avoided for the chance of becoming a better man? what of it had been his own fault and what had been a product of circumstances? almost every single time he came up with the same answer. same angsty, dramatic answer he used to think while desperately looting his mind to find a different one. one that he somehow could have skipped over, missed. one that he never seemed to find.
he must have been made for it, he thought. made for loss. made for hurting and being hurt. for pain. for gore.
maybe that's why he let you go.
you were a surprise really. simon had not dated for years and years, not even thought about doing so and definitely not looking for it. his teammates used to egg him on about finding a partner during late night poker games at the barracks. a few glasses of whiskey down and a whole bunch of money lost he only rolled his eyes back at them, a light smile coating the inside of his balaclava.
"y´need to find yourself a pretty little thing to domesticate you mate" they exclaimed drunkenly.
"can't even spell that word out" he joked back.
then came you and swiped him right off his feet. he tried to deny it to himself at first of course. ignoring the pull he felt towards you as if you were some kind of magnet, drawing him in closer and closer. ignoring the urge he felt to kiss you every time you spoke to him. looking up at him with your eyes glimmering of life and hope, cheeks tinted pink and plump lips glossy. ignoring the impulse to rip whatever other guy that approached you at the pub into million little pieces, until there was nothing left of him to remember. simon loved the way you seemed to flock yourself around him too, with always trying to get a laugh out of him by telling him your witty jokes, putting your hand on his forearm in instinct when he responded in his own sarcastic tone, talking to him like you wanted to figure him out, your overwhelmingly sweet nature almost making him spill all of his deepest, darkest secrets right then and there.
and oh did simon have a sweet tooth. the first time he had you he knew he was fucked. knew you were too sweet for him. too good.
the way your soft legs wrapped around him, pulling him as close to you as possible while he was pounding into you. one hand holding onto his strong bicep and the other caressing his cheekbone, his jaw while he groaned and panted above you, never drifting his gaze away from you almost as if he was trying to convince himself that you were real and not a figment of his imagination. simon had never made love before but a part of him knew that this was it. this was love.
and so he held onto you and you welcomed him with open arms, seeing something in him that he himself was not even sure existed. you held him as if he was worthy of healing, waited for him to open up about his past, his work and dreams of a future he had not dared to fantasize about, let alone state out loud for decades.
somehow, by merely existing by simons side you painted his, previously gray life in vibrating colors, pinks and greens and blues and yellows. giving meaning to parts of life he had never thought about appreciating before. slow dancing in his kitchen at night with only the pale moonlight shining through your sheer white curtains as a witness. wood creaking beneath you as your head is pressed to his chest, listening to his steady heartbeat that unbeknownst to you, was beating for you, and you only. his arms wrapped tightly around you, holding you close and pressing kisses to the top of your head every now and then.
watching the sappy movies you had raved on and on about and begged him to watch with you, claiming that he would love them just as much as you did. he knew he wouldn't, had never been able to stand romcoms and romantic dramas. but who was he to deprive you of a night filled with laughs and glossy eyes watching the screen intensely as though it was revealing the secret of life to you. sure, he did not love the movies you picked, but you did.
and maybe he loved you.
taking you to bed after a night at the pub with a couple of your old friends. a bit tipsy and clingy you hold onto him as he helps you up the stairs to the bathroom, helping you wipe your makeup off while you tell him about your night out in between giggles and kisses to his neck. making you a cup of tea before carrying you to his bed clad in the sheets you had picked out for him after stating that his were "old and boring". he did not mind the girly pattern of them, he would let you coat his whole house in pinks and hearts and bows as long as that meant you would spend more of your time there. you fit there so effortlessly he remembers thinking as he is looking up at you from between your thighs. your lips parted and head tilted upwards, moans escaping your throat with every flick of his tongue. falling apart on it, giving yourself to him, every single part of yourself while he devours you as though he's on death row and you are his last meal. the most beautiful thing he's ever seen, he states afterwards, hours into the night when he is satisfied with the amount of times he's made you cum on his tongue, while stroking your hair and caressing your cheek. praising you and whispering sweet promises in your ear until you fall asleep. meaning every single one of his words.
still, a part of him blames you for believing him. sure, he'd meant them with every bone in his body but how could such a precious thing like you accept promises like that from a man like him. you should have known better than to let him in, should have thought twice before intertwining yourself with him. mind, body, soul. a part of him still despises you for making it all so easy, as though his life was decorated In something purer than loss and hurt. as though his skin wasn't littered in scars he barely remembered where he got. scars you coated in small kisses when he fell asleep before you. silently damning any god who would allow such grim scars to be inflicted on such a beautiful man.
that is what you thought of him. your beautiful man. you saw past the hard exterior he had spent so many years building up, tearing them down with as little as one single glance.
and simon became scared.
scared of what he felt for you, the emotions coated in all your colors became too much for him to handle. threatening to spill over. and like when the loss he feels, the loss he has seen during his lifetime, slipped through and threatened to spill, simon did what he knows best.
he runs.
his missions become longer, leaves shorter. he knows you would notice something was wrong when he doesn't find a way to contact you while away like he usually does, always does. of course your mind immediately goes to the worst imaginable possibility. that he has died somewhere in a far away land that you know nothing about but some of the stories he has told you on late nights, wrapped up in each other´s arms. the fear of never being able to truly mourn him, for not even being able to find out any type of information on what could have happened to him. you worry and worry and worry. this is not like simon, you start to think as weeks go by with no contact. you start to doubt that he will even show up at your doorstep again, with a big smile on his face and flowers in his hand. not that simon knew any of that though. he himself thinking he was sparing you and somehow in his own twisted conclusion, helping you by staying away. showing his enemies more brutality than he usually did during missions. powering through like he was some kind of angel of death, occupying his mind with anything but the thought of how pretty your eyes look while begging him for more when he was on top of you, making you see stars. or how big your smile would get when the various flowers in all the rainbows colors, that you had insisted on planting in his small overgrown garden had finally bloomed. or how you let him grasp his rough hand onto your own delicate one when walking through a big crowd which he had always hated, wanting to find the nearest corner to blend into. somehow holding onto you made it tolerable, made it all tolerable.
he did show up though. on a rainy night he showed up with water dripping down from his clothes, a duffle bag in his hand that looked to weigh about as much as you did. and his balaclava on. he couldn't help himself but to make his way to the front of your porch the first thing he did when he got back. his plan to stay away from you immediately collapsing as his self control vanishes into thin air merely at the thought of having the privilege to go see you.
he knew you knew that something was up when he refused to take his balaclava off, even during the welcome back sex that took place on the sofa of your living room. almost as if he was hiding emotions behind it, shielding himself from you. or you from him. you reassured him that he could talk to you about whatever plagued his mind like you always did. assuming something had happened during his mission that would take some time to process, talk about, heal.
so you fought for him the way you knew he was worthy of. with all you had. showed up at his place with his favorite meal when he hadn't called you in days after his initial visit. hoping to get his mind off the thing that was keeping him away from you. hoping to make him understand how much you cared for him, accepted him. you never wanted to "fix him" and he knew that. instead taking him just as he was with all his flaws and broken parts, always seeing the good in him. you were patient with him, decided to wait for him simply because you knew that he was worth it and saw the way his cold eyes softened when he looked down at you. saw the way the crease between his eyebrows disappeared into thin air when he heard your laugh. the way he shivered when you ran your hands over his shoulders, his back, completely relaxing at your touch. his own body language betraying the destructive thoughts he had spent weeks convincing himself of. like you weren't all he could ever ask for, and more.
like you weren't the person he wanted to spend the rest of his life with.
all you had to do was be patient with him. right?
weeks and weeks went by with simon pulling away more and more. even on the days you spent together and the nights in each other´s beds, the energy shift was prominent. no longer being an underlying concern and instead becoming a big dark cloud constantly lingering over the relationship, impossible to ignore. then came the lightning, crashing down on the bond the two of you had built up, making you question if any of what you had felt for the man was true at all or just a delusion you had made up in your hopeful mind. at least that's what you told him with a trembling voice, during the arguments that emerged out of frustration and fear of this being it. the last of the connection. the end of it.
as though one of the magnets had broken and lost its electricity, losing all its strength to keep the poles together. and when has ever the power of one working magnet been able to attach itself to a broken one?
and so you left. after weeks and weeks of trying to get an answer out of him, worrying about him, begging him to just talk to you and tell you something about what he was thinking and feeling. asking him if you did anything wrong, misinterpreted his feelings towards you and the moments you shared. you left. and he let you. watched you walk away from him with uncertain steps and tears in your eyes towards the horizon farther and farther from him. the horizon in which he was convinced you would find your real happiness in someone who could match your colors, vibrate them back to you in return instead of pulling them out of you and leaving nothing but shades of gray behind. for your own good, he thought as you became nothing more than a distant shape of the women he loved but didn't know how to properly take care of.
what he didn't anticipate was the way you never really left him.
you didn't become of one the many losses he had accumulated throughout his life and stored in the darkest parts of his body. you were something else entirely and he saw you in everything.
in the bright sheets on his bed that he slept in every night with the fear of seeing you in his dreams. in the various flowers in his garden that were now dying from the lack of maintenance. in sappy movies and in the creaking of his kitchen floor. in late night tea cravings and in rainy clouds. in the orange of the sunrise and the orange of the sunset. you were everywhere, haunting him. and oh how simon knew that he was in fact in love when he discovered that physically running from you only made him yearn for you more.
almost hating you for having such a strong effect on him even with being so far away but still managing to coat his surroundings in reminders of you.
almost hating you for tricking him into thinking he could become a better man for you. giving you everything that the life and hope in your eyes reflected back at him.
almost hating you for seeing something in him that made you want to fight for the connection you had, only giving up when there was no other choice but to do so.
almost hating you for not returning home to him.
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leapdayowo · 20 hours
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Redstone and Skulk au time!
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To start off with, here’s cat!Tanguish college au
(ignore that I don’t know how to draw people holding a sandwich from memory)
Tanguish is a scrappy alley cat Tango found who one day escapes from Tango’s apartment. Tanguish ends up trying to steal Helsknight’s lunch, but fails at first and falls on his face. Helsknight feels bad and gives Tanguish bits of meat and bread from his sandwich bonding them for life. He then wraps up Tanguish in his theatre cloak (he’s definitely a theatre kid + does historical reenactment fights with swords and such) and tries to take him to a shelter or vet or something, but Tanguish spooks when a really loud car passes by and runs into an alleyway. HK almost decides to leave it at that, it’s not his problem, but then hears Tanguish yowling and hissing and the sounds of another cat doing the same. He rushes into the alley and gets Tanguish away from the biggest cat he’s ever seen (it’s the Demon), but in the process he gets a good slash of claw marks across his face.
From there he takes Tanguish to his place, cleans them both up, and from there they have a bunch of misadventures of HK trying to take care of this scrawny, half hairless cat while also trying to find its owner/take him to a shelter/keep him. Eventually, he would find the Hermits on campus (who I am imagining are a more chill fraternity), and comes across Tango hanging out with Welsknight. Tanguish and Tango are happily reunited, HK looks like he got into a fight with a lawnmower the other night, and Wels takes glee in pointing that out while the two (they’re definitely brothers) are unhappily reunited.
Later that night, Tanguish escapes again and follows Helsknight home. When HK discovers this, he begrudgingly texts Wels to tell Tango Tanguish is with him (having not thought to grab Tango’s phone number earlier). There’s probably some joint custody thing that happens and Tanguish gets to eat muffins from two different friend groups now :3
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And on the other side of the multiuniversal coin: dog!Helsknight college au
This one is not as fleshed out, but essentially Helsknight is Welsknight’s dog who he keeps on campus, but HK has gradually grown to hate Wels. The coliseum group are all dogs too, and one day at the dog park, Helsknight runs away from Wels. He then stumbles across Tanguish (not a cat) who is getting harassed by these guys he used to steal things with along with other petty crime (not a crowd he wants to be with anymore), and when things get violent, Helsknight jumps in and attacks the guys (except Tanguish). Tanguish freaks out, but is trapped in the alleyway and can’t escape from this aggressive dog attacking everyone, so he holes up on a dumpster. When all the aggressors are gone, HK barks at Tanguish which scares the young man enough that he tries to scale the alley wall instead of get off the dumpster. He slips and falls down painfully next to Helsknight. More concerned if he broke a rib and finding some blood on him, he doesn’t notice HK checking him over until a rough paw tugs at his shirt.
He cautiously lets HK sniff his face and hands before getting up and slowly walking himself home. HK looks scary and is a big dog, but for some reason he has chosen to stick by Tanguish. They get to Tanguish and Tango’s apartment (roommates :3) and Tanguish has to introduce Tango to the Big Scary Dog that saved him and wants to be their third roommate, only to find out the HK is Welsknight’s dog who ran away a few days ago. At any mention of Wels’ name however, HK pins his ears back with a low growl. Regardless, Tanguish and Tango try to take HK back to Wels, and when they do everyone can tell just how unhappy HK is with Wels (he just doesn’t like the man’s vibes). Not knowing what else to do, Welsknight lets HK stay with Tanguish and Tango as a trail run to see what happens.
So yeah, Tanguish ends up with a big scary dog who keeps unwanted people away from him :3 HK eventually gets less hostile towards Wels over time, but still is not very friendly towards him. And yeah, dog versions of the coliseum crew playing in the dog park :3
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Last one :) warden!Helsknight au
even less fleshed out than the other two. I like the idea of Tanguish being able to do the shrieker sound, but then thought what if he could actually summon a warden with it?
So Tanguish is an inexperienced witch (maybe, or is just magical) who can do basic ice related magic, but one day he steals from a woman part of a larger crew of bounty hunters or something, and he gets chased down by them. He gets corner in a strange part of the woods and does the shrieker noise three times to ward them off, which doesn’t work until after the third try a tall armored warden!Helsknight emerges from the soft soil and scares off the bounty hunters.
I don’t really have much else in mind except Tanguish sitting on Hk’s shoulders while the two try and figure out what to do in the world (which is very vague I know). I’m not sure what HK’s relationship to Wels is like or if Wels would also be a warden (if he was I imagine he’s been on the surface much longer).
uhhh yeah! If anyone wants to run wild with any of these ideas, go for it! Maybe just mention me as an inspiration if you make something from these, but yeah they are free for anyone to develop further if you wish :)
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yuukei-yikes · 8 months
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nail girlie momo forcing everyone in the dan to let her practice on their hands and kido is always letting her bc Whoa momo holding my hand for over an hour. crazy. but ALSO kido is one of those ppl incredibly fidgety abt nail filling and all that so they sit through it with the power of gay love. they stare at momo the whole time bc she sticks her tongue out in concentration and kido thinks its cute. whatever
and when it's done they see their hands and it feels so foreign kinda like when rin dressed them in those fancy clothes. then gets emo abt rin bc she always had such perfectly manicured hands. erm anyways then they get distracted when momo's like THEY LOOK SO PRETTY DANCHOU THEY SUIT U:3
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bitchfitch · 1 year
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Consumed with the need to draw a comic and consumed with the knowledge I'm Really bad at actually finishing comics.
#either its going to be Monty and Cadfael having a sweet moment. Cadfael is whining about how now that hes marrying age#balls and dances arnt Fun anymore because everyone is just trying to get with him or talk up one of their friends. and it Sucks.#everyone just assumes he want to lead and its not like he Minds leading but the assumption its what hed want rubs him the wrong way#and everyone talks and talks so he can't just enjoy the music and there's no Breaks in it. and its such a prissy problem to have#especially considering Montgomery doesn't get to dance at all because hes on the job. and Monty listens and when Cadfael is done#he asks if he can hear the music well enough in this little side corridor theyve snuck off too.#and Cadfael doesn't grock it until Monty is bowing and holding out a hand to him so they can have a dance.#and its everything Cadfael wanted.#it's everything monty wanted too.#that or a less sweet thing of Conall and Arlo having another argument.#Conall has been staying away from the hill but the morning following every full moon hes back there with no memory of why he returned#and hes frustrated and angry and generally resentful so instead of just leaving again like he normally does he confronts Arlo about it.#and blames him for it because like Why else would conall keep waking up in his bed.#and Arlo scoffs and is busy tracking some hunters theough the woods above. luring them closer. He thanks Conall for bating them.#He again explains that Conall's lycanthropy is at its worst the night of the full moon. and so are all the other bits of the curse.#including the bit about how werewolves were the guard dogs of the unicorns back when things were 'good'#they have the usual bout about how Arlo could cure him and is just refusing not to and Arlo saying why would he do that?#its not like he enjoys this little routine of theres. Hes already told Conall plenty of times that if he wants free of his curse#he eitber needs to die or to find someone to transfer it to.#Arlo gestures to his mirror and the hunters whove come to kill the big bad wolf spotted in the area. and says heres his chance. Pick one#and Arlo will transfer the curse. Conall can be free so long as he dooms another.#and Conall once again refuses. Not willing to stoop that low before storming off.#arlo kills the hunters and muses to himself that he should get Conall angry more often. hes cuter like that.
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imthatqueerkid · 1 year
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#crush blogging day 49#today has been all about grappling with my inability to motivate myself to do anything#and the guilt i feel for leaving my cherished dragon plushie at fire boys house#its so silly hell be like 'dragon told me this' and i have to hold myself back from announcing 'he would not fucking say that'#youve characterized my boy so incorrectly you dont even know#blorbo from my plushie collection :(( look how theyve massacred my boy#anyway at this point im trying to understand the rhyme and reason behind the desire i feel towards him#by that i mean trying to be kind to myself when i feel sexually ir sensually attracted to him#and starting to explore more of where the shame comes from#why do i feel ashamed that i want to be close to him? why do i feel dirty for wondering about whether sex is something I'd want with him?#also: why do i feel the need to over analyze my desire to kiss him?#its literally not a big deal to want to kiss someone youve been going on dates with#but nooo ive gotta ask#do i really want to kiss him or do i just think i want to? if i really want to kiss him why didn't i the other night when he wanted to too?#(answer: if i didn't want to kiss him id probably not be up at 11 pm fantasizing about it)#(and its perfectly ok for me to not act on desires when im feeling scared or nervous; those feelings can and do coexist)#ughhhhh as soon as hes gone i want him back#as soon as ive got him and hes looking at me the way he does its like i feel so safe yet so nervous and i cant do anything#except hold him#mmmmmmmmmhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh see now i wish he were here so i could actually kiss him#but when he was here and down to kiss i couldn't face my fear of intimacy! how annoying is that????? (very)#this will be remedied soon because im pretty certain next time we hang out we will kiss. we will.#silly silly Jasper#fire boy#from the couch#Spotify
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femonologue · 1 month
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Many years ago, I was wandering around downtown Ottawa with my best friend. We ran into a friend of his who offered us some hash (it sucked), then said there was a really good house party nearby if we wanted to go. We were like, yeah, sure. So that's how we ended up at some completely fucking random person's house.
I look around to ask if my friend knows anyone here and he's simply gone, as is his friend. And this isn't some red solo cup hangout; this is a party. There's people counting out pills on the kitchen counter. I am clearly neither as cool nor as drug-savvy as the kitchen people, so I back away and instead wander aimlessly into the living room, which seems to give off more of a chill vibe.
A bunch of people are seated in a circle on the floor. One of them is fiddling with a big wad of newspaper or something. A really cute grunge girl with piercings and tattoos scoots aside to make room for me, so I sit down.
"What's that," I ask her, gesturing at the newspaper wad.
She gets a really big smile on her face. You know the smile. It's the I'm About To Watch This Innocent Soul Get High As Fuck smile. "You've never smoked a tulip?"
"What's a tulip?" I ask.
"It's like if a joint was also a bong," she replies. "You gotta try it."
"Alright," I reply, a little uncertainly. This will not be my first encounter with weed. I am more comfortable with the janky newspaper bong than I am with whatever the fuck is going on in the kitchen. Besides, this girl is really cute and I would like to have a friend here now that my existing friend has turned into vapor or been transported to the Upside-Down or whatever the hell happened to him.
I watch as one person holds the newspaper joint-bong upright and holds a lighter over the top while another gets beneath it, tilting their head back to take a puff. Apparently smoking this Cheech & Chong monstrosity is a two-person job.
"Oh," I say, looking at the fist-sized knob at the top of the wonky newspaper joint. "Yeah, it does kinda look like a tulip." Grunge girl smiles at me.
I watch as the tulip is passed around the circle, along with the lighter, and hits are cooperatively taken. It reaches grunge girl, who takes a huge puff and holds it for an extended moment before exhaling an impressive blast of smoke. She smiles expectantly and holds the tulip up for me, preparing to spark the gigantic meteor of dank that makes up its tip. By this point I have completely forgotten about my missing friend. I only care about making a good impression on grunge girl. I tilt my head back and hit the tulip like a smokestack.
It is the following morning. I am sleeping between a couch and a wall. I'm not positive that this is the same house I was just in. My memories are gone. Someone is yelling at me: "dude! Dude! Wake up, dude!"
I sit up. My mouth tastes like cigarettes. I do not smoke cigarettes. "Wha," I ask the yelling man, who I am quite confident I have never met before in my life.
"We're going on a quest," he tells me, gravely. "You have to come with us."
I look around. Neither my friend nor his friend are anywhere in sight. I also do not see grunge girl anywhere. I shrug helplessly. "Okay."
We embark from this house. I learn that the destination of this quest is Tim Horton's. This is a relief to me, as coffee and a donut sounds really fucking good right now. Somehow, the route to Tim Horton's takes us past the Governor-General's residence, which everyone else in the group loudly heckles on the way past. I do not know what the Governor-General has done to raise their ire, nor do I particularly care. I trudge along with my hands in my pockets, pleased to note that I still have my wallet, phone, and keys. I fervently wish that I could remember anything about last night. Maybe I talked to grunge girl. Maybe she's why my mouth tastes like cigarettes. The tulip tasted nothing like cigarettes.
I am asked about my politics. I voice my frustrations with corporate corruption, the pay-to-win electoral system, the lack of transparency and accountability. This is met with great approval. The guy who was yelling at me claps me on the back. I get the impression that we became friends last night. I don't recognize his face. I do not know his name and he definitely does not know mine. I behave as though we're friends anyway. We are comrades on a quest.
By the time we make it to Tim Hortons, the gaggle of stoners I'm walking with have all run out of energy and/or attention span. People order snacks and break away in pairs or solo, to call for rides or plan the day's events or just vegetate and wait for the drugs to leave their systems. I look around and find that my nameless friend has also gone to the Upside-Down. As I wash the cigarette taste out of my mouth with coffee, I unsuccessfully try to remember whether I saw grunge girl smoking tobacco at any point. I remember nothing. That tulip was so fucking powerful that it instantly sent me a whole day forward in time.
Alone in the city, I try to call my best friend and get no answer. I walk to the nearest bus stop, catch a bus most of the way home, and call up my parents to ask for a ride back. They ask where my friend is. I tell them that I have no idea; we went to a house party and I don't remember anything else.
When they pick me up from the bus station, they ask me some very safe, nonspecific questions, and seem to relax when I describe what little I can remember. It isn't until years later that I realize they were probably terrified I'd gotten rufied or something, and were so relieved to learn otherwise that they didn't even bother chiding me for smoking myself unconscious in an effort to impress a strange woman. In any case, they were probably happy to find out that I did, in fact, like girls; I suspect they had been privately wondering whether I was gay.
After getting home, I finally manage to get my best friend to answer his phone. I discover that he tried the kitchen pills, spent most of the night crossing the entire city on foot, and crashed at his cousin's house. He sounds like shit. I tell him that he should have tried the tulip, instead. He fervently agrees with me.
I never see grunge girl again.
That's okay, though. She got to see a clueless stranger get fucked the entire way up on some ungodly strain of giga-weed, and I got smiled at by a cute girl, and then I got to go on a quest. Wherever grunge girl is, I hope she's happy. I hope she's smoking the fattest fucking blunt and smiling as some kid passes out behind a couch.
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nanaslutt · 7 months
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Geto would beg to put it in…
hahahhehehehoohooho yes he would
geto needs to zip tie his mouth shut because it’s so FILTHY
MDNI
He would rub the tip up and down your folds, smearing his cock all over your pussy lips, looking down at you with a weak smile.
"Please baby, wanna put it in now, please." He begged. Your hand was gripped firmly against his scalp, his soft hair between your fingers. "Mmm, but it feel so good when you rub your tip on my clit like that."
He repeated the action again, hoping him obeying you would let him get his cock inside you sooner. "They're kissing, how cute." you whined.
Geto looked down between the two of you and saw your little clit catch perfectly in the slit of his dick when he used it to rub circles against the nub. When he looked back up at your flushed face, pretty eyes staring up at him through your lashes, he had to try not to blow his load prematurely.
He gripped the base of his cock firmly, aiding him in staving off his orgasm. "Yeah yeah so cute,” he rushed, “Can I please put it in now? Gonna cum all over your clit if I dont stop rubbin it like this." need laced in his voice when he spoke.
He had started to slide his cock back down to your entrance, getting stopped in his ministrations when you yanked his head back, making him whine, "Fuck!" he groaned, tip leaking out more precum at the delicious pain on his scalp.
"Maybe I wont let you put it in at all, since youre being so impatient," you huffed breathily, trying to sound dominate but the need ultimately sneaking its way into your voice.
"Come onnnnn," Geto dragged out the syllables, "I know you need it too.." Leaning his big frame down over yours, pressing his mouth to your ear as his deep voice vibrated in your ears, "Please let me fuck you baby, need to cum so deep inside your little pussy, need it so bad." He teasingly groaned when your hold that was still on his head made itself known again, pulling the strands at his dirty words.
"You like that idea?" he kept pushing, knowing he was winning you over, "want me to stuff you full of my cum, huh?" he moaned into your ear, pressing the tip against the tight ring of your cunt before retracting the pressure, repeating that action a couple times, successfully making you needy for him.
"S-supposed to be you begging m-me, not the other way around suguru." you wined, feeling yourself lose the hold you had over him, geting lost in the pleasure and promise of what was to come.
"Your so right baby," he cooed, sucking your earlobe into his hot mouth and stimulating it with his tongue before he spoke again, "Please let me put it in, pretty please." He asked, concecending tilt in the undertones of his pleasding voice, “M about to cum jus’ thinking about it…”
"O-ok, you can put it i-" Sentence getting cut off with a moan when he thrusted the entire length of his cock inside you all at once.
Geto buried his face into the crook of your neck, gritting his teeth and clenching his jaw when he was fully inside, "F-fuckkk, haha," he groaned, balls already twitching, and stomach coiling with the need to cum. "So- fucking- tight-" He growled, fucking his words into you.
Lifting his head to get a better view of your face, he caressed the side of your teary cheek when he spoke, "Thank you for letting me fuck you baby, so fucking good to me." Groans and moans filled the air as he thoroughly fucked you into the mattress for the rest of the night in appreciation.
yeaahhhh, geto would def beg to put it in :p
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sabersandsnipers · 8 months
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Drabbles: Just One Bed
Featuring: Astarion, Gale, Halsin, Lord Gortash
Inspiration courtesy of @creativepromptsforwriting
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Astarion
There’s only one pillow. So you and Astarion have to share. Neither of you want the annoyance of waking up with neck pain. And after arguing for a bit, you realize neither of you is winning.
Despite trying his best to keep distance between you, it’s incredibly difficult while trying to share a pillow. His body cradles yours. His lips nearly touch the back of your neck. For a while he manages to keep his hands to himself, but as his eyes grow heavy, his arm snakes its way around your waist.
Your body feels like its on fire despite his cold skin. You’re worried the rapid beat of your heart will keep him awake.
Somehow sleep eventually finds you. In the middle of the night, you roll over to find a more comfortable position. When you wake up, you find your face buried in Astarion’s chest.
He himself hasn’t slept since you rolled into him. He’s kept his arm slung over you, though, and has listened to your steady breathing all night.
When you attempt to move away from him, his grip around you automatically tightens. You freeze, waiting for him to realize you’re awake, but he doesn’t let go. He doesn’t want to. He can’t remember the last time he felt this relaxed. Your body is warm and soft, and he never wants to leave this bed.
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Gale
The bed is roomy, which you’re grateful for. There should be plenty of space for you two. There’s no blanket though, so Gale roots through the closet for one.
Gale clears his throat, and you turn your attention to him holding up a rather small blanket. One that definitely would not cover the whole bed.
“You have it,” he hands it to you. “I’ll be fine.”
You hesitate. “Are you sure?”
“Most definitely,” he replies, already making his way to the bed.
You climb in next to him, pulling the blanket up to your chin. It’s barely big enough to cover your own person. You look to Gale, who’s turned away from you. He looks so exposed, and frankly, uncomfortable.
“Gale?” you say.
“Hm?” he turns to look at you.
“Do you want to share?” you ask. You hold up the blanket so he can slide in.
He doesn’t need to be asked twice. He scooches over to you, and you let the blanket drop around you two. You let out a sigh of contentment as the warmth of Gale’s body presses against you. You usually run cold, so you’re grateful he accepted your offer.
He wraps his arms around you, because there’s no other way for you two to get comfortable. In the night, he even drapes a leg over you. You don’t mind, you even find yourself nuzzling into him, seeking every bit of warmth you can.
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Halsin
A rainstorm tears your tent in the night. The cold splatter of rain on your face wakes you. Your bedroll is soaked, along with most of your belongings. You groan, getting out of bed so you can seek shelter with a companion. 
Out of all the tents before you, Halsin’s calls to you. You know it’ll be the warmest. Before you can talk yourself out of it, you make your way to his tent. 
You poke your head in. “Halsin?”
He wakes, an alarmed look on his face. “What is it?”
“My tent ripped. Can I stay with you?” A shiver slinks through your body. 
He nods. “Of course.”
He opens his bed roll a bit, and you see he’s naked. Your jaw drops. You hesitate, part of you feeling like you’re crossing a line. 
But then another shiver hits you, and you practically run into his arms. You sigh as you slide into the warmth of his bedroll. 
Halsin groans. “You’re freezing.” 
  “I know.” You don’t hesitate to press up against him, soaking in all his warmth. 
  “You’ll warm up soon,” he says, rubbing your back. Then his voice hits your ear. “You’d warm sooner if you removed your clothes as well.” 
Your stomach drops. You know if you do this, your companionship is going to get a bit complicated. But the thought of his hot skin against yours is too tempting.
He helps you out of your clothes, your heart fluttering the whole time. When you’re fully naked, he pulls you into his chest. Your heart pounds, but you relax against the heat of him. 
He fully cocoons you, wrapping a thick leg around you to pull you even closer. You feel your body start to warm, and the shivers start to cease. You try to ignore how perfectly lined up you are to him. You know sleep will be impossible like this, but it’s worth it to spend the night in his warm embrace.
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Gortash
You may have had one drink too many. The wine Enver provided for you was far too good to go to waste. And waste you did not.  The last thing you remember is the soft cushioning of a bed before darkness took you. 
The harsh morning light wakes you. The first sensation that hits you is that of a pounding headache. The next is that of a pair of strong arms encircling you. 
Confusion hits you. You don’t remember going to bed with anyone. You feel your underwear is on, so nothing happened with whoever is in the bed with you. 
You slowly turn your body to see who this mystery person is. You’re met with the strong face of Lord Gortash. Butterflies fill your belly. He simply invited you over for dinner, and here he is letting you sleep in his bed. 
He’s sound asleep, his soft breathing evidence of the relaxed state he’s in. He’s sleeping shirtless, and you tentatively place your palms against his strong chest. You feel the strong muscles rippling under his skin. 
He stirs slightly and you quickly hide your face against his chest. He shifts, his chest hairs tickling your skin. His powerful arms hold you so gently.
With your headache forgotten, and Enver’s body sending waves of warmth through you, sleep finds you again.
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moralesispunk · 3 months
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I think you're either team ghost x civilian wife! reader where the rest of the 141 have no idea you exist or team they know and it's a very familial like and I'm the first one
simon who does everything he can to keep you his secret, even more so when your family starts to grow. when he's finished with a mission he will spend the next 48hrs barely sleeping, moving around to make sure no one is on his tail before making it home into your arms.
it's not that he doesn't trust the 141, but you and your family are far too precious to trust anyone with. you've heard the stories of all of the other men, are sure you would need only one look at them to be able to guess which man belongs to the many names he's told you over the years, but you're aware they don't know that you exist.
that on the rare nights simon ventures out to meet them for a sole pint between missions they think he's holed up in some bachelor flat back in manchester, perhaps with a string of women that come and go, but they couldn't be more wrong with his wedding band hidden under his gloves when he's home like now or safely in his drawer at home when he's on missions.
and it's not that he doesn't wish he could shout about you from the rooftops. everyone in your town knows that the big scary man whose face is always conveniently hidden in the shadows has a missus at home who brings your chubby babies to the toddlers and drops your kids off at school.
but the 141 don't know about you, not until enough time has passed since simon retired to consider it safe enough. simon with his aching joints and trembling hands, the ringing in his right ear and back pain that requires at least two, hour long soaks in the bath a week. simon the husband and dad who has butterfly clips in his hair and at least one nail painted from the game of hairdressers his oldest likes to play, a bright pink plaster on his knee to match the youngest, and one hand on your belly at all times with the third (and final in your opinion but simon is working on that) of your brood.
simon who is out for drinks with the 141 three years after retirement and slips and says something about moving house and the hassle, the rest of the men deciding they will help and so simon decides it's finally time. but he doesn't forewarn them about his family before the day, standing in the garden of your packed up house that your family has outgrown while the men stumble out of the van they hired only to stop dead in their tracks when they see you.
you who is waving in the doorway, a toddler on your hip and looking like you're about to pop while another child - maybe six or seven by their guesses - swings from simon's arm, with a dog jumping up paws on his chest. and like the man he is he doesn't explain, just jerks his chin towards the piles of boxes and empty moving van he's started to pack.
"think you can start making a move on that?"
a few hours later and still no explanation from simon, he's in the first van packed with all the furniture and bigger boxes with you and the kids and the guys follow behind, slack jawed and still confused as they stay speechless until they pull up at the new house.
they're still staring at you as you pile out of the first van and you're shaking your head, elbowing simon in the ribs and muttering a "put them out their misery, Si" and they swear they almost drop dead when they see how gently he handles you, an arm around your waist and a kiss to your temple as he guides you and the two gremlins towards the guys while the dog starts sniffing around its new home.
"fellas, this is the missus and kids," he says and you roll your eyes, holding out your hand towards them and introducing yourself by name, adding on the kids who beam up shyly at these strangers.
that seems to shake them out of it. john takes your hand first, shaking and turning to simon with a "you hide her away in case we try to steal her from you?" he winks and you and only grins wider when simon's hand on your hip seems to squeeze tighter. gaz and soap are bending down and coaxing your two girls out of their shyness, complimenting their light up trainers and asking if it makes them run faster before cheering them on as they run to the front door and back.
they set you up on a fold out chair and do all the heavy lifting as you point them and the boxes in their arms to their correct rooms. later, Simon treats them to dinner (a takeaway) and has you sitting on his knee with the girls in bed and for the first time he spends a night with the guys telling you stories of Simon "Ghost" Riley.
"they're lyin' love," he'll mumble in your ear at every story, "don't believe them do ya?" his hand strokes up your back, squeezing your neck.
"yeah, babe, believe you," you say while smiling at the men around your new dining room table, men who have saved your husbands life more times than he can count, and you find yourself curling closer to simon because of that
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chososlilprincess · 5 months
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okay last LAST part of Virgin!Choso…part 4<3 (i will probably do scenarios w Choso as a virgin in the future tho but this is the end of this lil series) other parts here: part 1. part 2. part 3.
alright….rly hope u guys like it!!<33
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Virgin Choso, who wakes up in the morning, blinking his eyes, trying to get used to the sunlight coming in through the blinds.
You’re laying on his chest, your arms hugging him close, breathing softly. You’d fallen asleep quickly last night, fucked out from him eating you out. He smiles at the memory of you kissing him, and how you’d said yes to being his perfect little girlfriend. He starts rubbing your back, kissing your forehead softly before moving you, he’d needed to go to the bathroom for 30 minutes now, holding it in because he didnt want to wake you, he wanted to stay with you on his chest forever.
When he leaves his bathroom he stands in his boxers and a white t-shirt outside of his bedroom, he needs a cigarette, and he wants to let his princess sleep.
He goes to his balcony and pulls out a cig from the pack, putting it between his lips and lighting it. He’s really happy he realizes, and his heart is at ease, even though it’s still burning up from how much he loves the girl sleeping in his bed.
A minute later he hears the door to his bedroom open, and the pats of your feet on the floor, walking to him. You wrap your arms around his middle, nuzzling your face into his back.
Fuck. calm yourself Choso.
“come back to bed please,” you tell him in a small voice, hugging him closer.
His heart clenches, “of course,” he says, he could never deny you anything, And he takes your hand as you lead him back to his bed.
“Wanna show you how much i like you,” you say as you place urself in his lap, straddling him on his bed. You feel him twitching in his boxers. And when he looks at you again, his eyes are full of desperation.
“been wanting you,” he breathes out “so much and i…” he pulls you closer by your waist, wrapping his arms around you. “i touched myself…every night, thinking about your pretty face and…” he’s embarrassed to admit it and his cheeks flush.
“it’s okay…i did it too choso..” you say softly and caress his cheek.
you touched yourself thinking about him. fuck that did it for him.
“wanna be inside you…please i,” he buries his face in your neck, bucking his hips and you feel how hard he is. You’re driving him insane, sitting on his lap so pretty, with only your top and panties on. He wants to show you he’s yours, he wants you to tell him youre his.
“shhh i want you too…” you tell him and he nods,
You kiss him then, giving him little pecks around his mouth. And when you put your hand on his cock, he whines and grinds himself into you.
“wanna touch it…can i?” you say innocently and trace a finger up his cock, all the way to the tip. He whimpers, “please,” and rubs his head on your cheek.
As soon as you get his consent you put your hand down his boxers, pulling out his dick. Its so pretty. Long and thick, the tip leaking and red. And you eye the happy trail from his groin all the way to his belly button.
“look…my hand almost doesn’t fit around it…so big…” you say fascinated, studying his dick. He groans deeply, holding onto your waist. “baby i…” he’ll cum if you say shit like that, while looking so perfect on top of him.
You stroke him once slowly and he kisses you again, groaning into your mouth. it feels so good, so much better than when he’s doing it himself. He bucks up into your hand, fucking himself into it. He’s panting softly, and when you pull away his eyes are half lidded, he looks fucked out already.
“cant wait anymore please fuck,” he almost looks like hes gonna cry, looking down at your hand stroking him, “let me be inside you princess please,” he begs.
You take your hand away from his dick, and he sobs at the lack of contact. “tell me,” you say, and he knows what you mean.
“loved you ever since you smiled at me for the first time, i think about you…f-fuck i think about you all the time,” his face turns into one full of affection, “ive never done this before,” He says, and doesnt tell you that not only is he a Virgin, but he also had no clue about sex before Yuji told him. Back then something in his human heart wanted you so bad, and now all of him does.
“ive never felt this before,” he sniffles, “fuck please princess i can’t take it anymore,” he’s shaking now, trembling from his desire.
“shhh…take your clothes off,” you tell him and he obeys you, pulling off his t-shirt to reveal his toned chest, his body full of scars. He pulls off his boxers and you pull off your panties.
“lay down,”
He gets on the bed, And you admire him for a moment. He’s completely naked, big chest and strong arms on full display. His hard cock leaking and stiff on his stomach.
When you get on top of him he mewls in anticipation. You put your hands on his chest, placing your pussy on his length.
He grabs your thighs tightly as he groans. Youre so wet, all for him. It makes his heart swell with pride.
You grab him and place him to your wet hole, putting his tip inside. And hes so big, your little pussy struggling to take even just his tip. You whine out and he stops you before you can sink down on him more. hes breathing heavily, cheeks a light pink, “dont wanna hurt you…” he breathes out.
“i…i can take it, just…give me a minute,” you say and bite your lip tightly. And youre so fucking adorable, how youre struggling to take his big cock, but you want to make him happy so bad, wanna have him inside you so bad.
When you finally sink down fully on him, you both moan in unison. And Choso groans at the way he can see himself poking through your tummy.
You look at him, silently asking for permission to keep going, he nods eagerly. You lift your hips and start fucking yourself on him slowly, letting out the prettiest sounds hes ever heard, It feels so fucking good. Your cunt is so wet and warm. He loves this, he loves you. He whimpers and cries while you bounce on him, moving his hands to your waist.
“you’re so handsome Choso,” you say it softly to him, clenching down on his length. You think hes handsome.
Choso looses his mind.
“fuck baby i’m sorry,” He grabs your hips and flip you over so that you’re laying on your back underneath him, he slides into you again, “need to…fuck i need you,” he whines and he ruts into you fast and desperate.
You’re moaning so pretty now. he keeps going.
“mine…mine mine mine mine,” he breathes.
You look up at him with your pretty big eyes, letting out the cutest sound hes ever heard. And with that he reaches his high.
“fuck i love you i love you i love you,” he repeats it over and over as he fills you up with his hot cum, trembling and crying from how good he feels, while you cum around him too from the feeling of him finishing inside you.
He passes out on top of you, breathing heavily, careful not to crush you under him. You reach up and stroke his hair, calming him as he comes down from his high. He nuzzles his cheek into you, kissing you softly as he pulls out of you with a whimper.
He lays down next to you and cradle you to his chest, wrapping his arms around you and kissing the top of your head.
“i love being your boyfriend,” he says,
and you laugh, your body vibrating against him.
he looks at you with a smile, “what? whats funny?”
you stop to look at him again, “nothing,” you crawl on top of him then, laying flat on his chest, folding your arms and putting your head on your hands.
“fuck youre pretty,” he breathes, and you kiss him softly.
“And youre handsome…or maybe i shouldnt say that because you might go beast mode again,” you grin at him,
“shut up…” he mumbles, and you laugh even harder. “its okay…i liked it,” you say,
“say that youre mine,” you look at him and his face is serious,
“im yours Choso…”
You both fall asleep to the sound of eachothers heartbeat.
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YIPPIEEE!! yeah i made reader say he went “beast mode” sue me. i was giggling bru😭😭 (she said it ironically dont worry)
taglist:
@adanfore @the1exiled @tojicvmslut @natriae @mynahx3 @arabellatreaty @himboelover @saturnlus-stuff @sircatchungus @ladygunheild @peregrine-nation @otomebebe @kyouenredxviolet @dellalyra @bloombb @mimiemie @sodoney
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sttoru · 4 months
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·.⌇ 𝐒𝐘𝐏𝐍𝐎𝐒𝐈𝐒. love; you wonder if the king of curses is capable of feeling that emotion too. so, you take on a more direct approach to ask him.
word count. 1.7k
note. sukuna brainrot sorry. . .
tags. true form!sukuna x female reader. angst (+ comfort) / fluff. size difference mentions. eh sukuna’s a bit mean. established relationship, but you’re like v early into the relationship.
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it was a calm sunday evening. both sukuna and you had fulfilled your duties for the day. all you needed after working hard was the presence of the person you admire most. thus, you had made your way over to sukuna’s chambers. to your surprise, you already found him sitting on the engawa which led to the connected backyard.
sukuna noticed your presence, but didn't utter a word. he simply shot you a glance before continuing to stare into the distance. he seemed to be in deep thought about something. you didn’t want to bother him when he was like this, but the voice in your head told you to stay.
you silently kneel next to him and gather your hands in your lap. your eyes automatically move to focus on sukuna again. two of his hands are supporting his weight as they rest flat on the wooden surface. the other set rests limply on his thigh.
your gaze falls on his bottom left hand. the one he uses to kill, but also the one he uses to hold and caress you. you could easily recall its feel without having to touch him; rough, callused and warm. you reach your hand out towards his without hesitation.
sukuna’s eyes dart over to your small stature next to him. he allows you to grab his hand, to pull it over to your lap and let it rest palm up on your thighs. it’s almost funny. how big his hand is in comparison to yours.
the comfortable silence continues. the rustles of the leaves and the water movements in the koi pond in the yard are soothing to the soul. your finger traces the lines on sukuna’s palm, following them until they end before switching to the other.
the king of curses watches you play around with his hand. still with that stoic expression on his face. however, feeling your delicate touch on his skin and seeing you smile to yourself for whatever reason makes the corners of his lips curl up. for a split second.
a faint, amused grin. you sure are an interesting creature in his eyes.
“sukuna, can i ask you something?” you break the silence with a question. there is an unknown feeling in your chest; one that makes you restless at night. your smile slowly drops into a small pout when you think about what you want to ask him.
not a single action goes unnoticed by the man next to you. he lifts an eyebrow, but other than that, there’s no reaction visible. he answers you with a hum of approval, “mmh.”
you lift your head and look up at him. sukuna was already staring right at you—his piercing eyes catch your soft ones. he squints. there is something wrong with the way you are looking at him. normally, the smile you give him would reach your eyes. now it doesn’t.
that same smile completely disappears over time.
“do you.. are you..” you stammer. you don't know how to articulate your question. it’s probably dumb. to both you and him. sukuna watches you struggle to ask him whatever is on your mind. he firmly grabs your wrist and squeezes it. not too hard. he doesn't want to inflict any unneccesary pain.
sukuna sighs. a heavy sigh. one thing he dislikes is when you leave him in the dark. it isn’t the first time you did so during the past week. asking him if you could ask him a question and when he grants you the permission to, you back down or change topics.
it’s getting tiresome.
“spit it out.” sukuna grumbles. he pulls your body closer to his by your wrist, your arm stretched upwards with your hand hovering near the side of his face. his breath hits your wrist, causing goosebumps to form on your skin.
crimson orbs stare right into your soul. you gulp and feel your body warm up. when you try to avert your gaze, one of sukuna's free hands grabs you by the jaw and steers your head to face him. his thumb presses down on your chin. he’s not letting it go today. he needs answers.
before sukuna could add to his words, you breathe in sharply. like you’re ready to ask him what had been weighing on your mind ever since a couple days back. oh, stupid it sure is. you know. you’re probably making it too big of a deal. when it isn’t. not in the slightest.
your eyes water. you blink the tears away. you don’t want to embarrass yourself any further by sobbing. your bottom lip trembles as you finally muster up the courage;
“do you love me?”
there it goes. you try to squirm away from sukuna’s grasp after that. you feel flustered. embarrassed. you just want to crawl into a hole and rot.
sukuna does not tighten his grip on you. instead, he loosens them. your wrist slips from his hand. your chin no longer restricted by his fingers. he lets you go.
a painful sting in your heart. you secretly hoped that he’d resist. pull you closer maybe. you don’t know why you expected that. you learnt not to get your hopes up around him and yet you always wish for him to do something.
a silence falls between the two of you again. you act like you didn’t ask him anything. you try to ignore the way sukuna clenched his jaw. how he subtly clicked his tongue. how he let you shuffle away from him.
you clear your throat. with hesistance this time, you gently grab one of sukuna’s hands again. that he allows you. you appreciate that. at least it means he isn’t completely upset. you know sukuna does not allow just anyone to touch him so without permission.
you hold tightly onto his hand like it’s your last hope. his fingers don’t close around yours, though. you don’t mind.
“what a foolish question.” sukuna scoffs and looks the other way. his voice was hoarse. probably from not speaking for quite what time. you silently nod. an expected answer, at last.
you stay silent after that. it hurts. more than you want it to have hurt. maybe it was too early into your relationship to ask such a question. you got into it, knowing fully well how harsh the man next to you could be sometimes.
what you can’t deny is that soft spot sukuna has for you. you see it. uraume sees it. the maids see it. sukuna probably.. knows of it, but doesn’t speak on it. he does not speak up about his feelings much anyway.
but it’s visible in his actions. the king of curses allows you to say and do whatever you want around him. he makes sure his subordinates treat you well. he looks at you with a hint of softness hidden in those red eyes. when he touches you, it’s firm but gentle. like he desperately craves to touch you, though knows not to make that yearning accidentally hurt you in any way.
the latter is what you love most about his soft spot for you. sukuna handles you with utmost care. even uraume had told you that it surprises them greatly whenever they witness the way their master treats you in general.
especially at night. you can’t count the amount of times you quite literally melted into his arms. those four, beefy arms that know just how to make you feel protected. you never sleep in unease. you know that nothing could hurt you when you’re laying against his chest.
sukuna’s actions speak volumes. despite all of that, you wish he’d at least tell you with his words. how much you mean to him.
“my apologies.” you give up. for today, you’ll let him be. the slight irritation in his voice earlier nearly made you cry. he needs more time and you’ll give him that. you slowly detach your small hand from his big, warm one, “i won’t ask you that again.”
sukuna frowns and grumbles something under his breath. you think it’s still because of your previous question, yet his gaze tells a different story. he narrows his eyes as he glares down at his now empty hand. you connect the dots once you see the man take a glimpse at your hand on your lap.
your touch. the sudden abscence of your touch.
“i didn’t say you could do that.” sukuna murmurs. his tone low and maybe even upset to a certain degree. you blink a few times and freeze on spot. the king of curses starts to get grumpy the longer you fail to take the hint.
he kisses his teeth out of impatience. sukuna tightly gets ahold of your hand again and softly yanks it towards him. you squeal as your body stumbles closer to his.
sukuna holds eye contact with you as he brings your hand to his mouth. his tongue wets a spot on your palm—specifically the area that connects your thumb with your wrist. your lips part, your tummy doing flips from the sudden touch.
“don’t let go again,” he bares his teeth before slightly sinking them into the soft flesh. it isn’t a hard bite. more a nibble that leaves a faint mark. what you didn’t expect was for sukuna to kiss that same place after marking it. his thumb runs over that exact spot as well, “got that?”
you nod. you’re unable to refuse him. those feelings of disappointment from earlier long forgotten. you intertwine your fingers with sukuna’s and unlike the previous instant, his fingers do curl back around yours. your skin is still tingling from the feeling of sukuna’s kiss.
the king of curses keeps your entwined hands on his lap this time. he stares off into the distance for a couple seconds before returning his gaze to you. he scans your face and finds what he had been missing;
that tender smile of yours. it was back, tugging at your lips. one of your fingers resumes its soothing motion on his rough skin again. sukuna’s face relaxes. his jaw unclenches.
“good.” sukuna nods at the sight. he turns to watch the night sky again—secretly (yet not so secretly) enjoying this moment of peace.
you’re content with how that ended. and, you’re sure that you don’t mind if it takes days, weeks or even months for your relationship to fully blossom. when you’re with sukuna, one thing is clear: actions do speak louder than words.
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