#She's most likely to snap back at the Doctor and give him a hard time with exception to Donna.

[nosferatufaggot]

If Disney bought Fox and Disney has a part of Doctor Who now........................DR. GRACE HOLLOWAY RETURN WHEN!?!?!?!

[tottentz]

LOSE FACE .ᐟ ── honkai star rail ?! ❛ 'cause baby this won't last ❜ 🗝 ﹢を ˒ㅤ ft. aventurine & dr. ratio, boothill & dan heng, sampo & gepard, jing yuan & blade.

𓆩♡𓆪 WARNINGS ! mdni. female reader, reader is a little desesperate, ambiguous relantionship, threesome, pet names ( princess, sweetheart ), sub / dom undertones, oral ( receiving ), deepthroating, handjob, praising, facesitting, orgasm denial, begging, hair pulling, spitroasting, size kink / if you squint, lil manhandling. ♡ˎˊ˗ ֶָ֢⊹𐙚 DESCRIPTION ! these two men will be the end of you. you just know it / or, in which sometimes three is better than two.

mature content ahead + please take care of yourself before proceeding !

aventurine & dr. ratio .ᐟ

"you're awfully quiet," aventurine murmurs, lips grazing the cut of your jaw as he pries open the lapels of your dress shirt.

"i'm not the one who talks so much no one in the room can think," veritas tells him. focused. ratio continues, and you gasp when he gingerly kneads the spill of your breasts—his cold fingers against your fever-pitched skin.

"you seem to be enjoying yourself, doctor," aventurine says coquettishly, but you can't even snap at him for being so coy. not when he's slowly hauling his cock out of his pants. he chuckles when ratio makes a sound something akin to a huff. "lies only breed ignorance, don't you think, princess?"

"arrogance too, it seems," veritas says, as he strips you down to your underwear, you don't dare to take your eyes off aventurine, who languidly pumps his length in a tight fist. 

he bares his teeth in a teasing smile, telling you how naughty you're being, lusting over another man when ratio is already sinking to the floor to—

"w-wait, veritas?" you startle as he hoists your leg over his shoulder. "you don't have to do that..."

veritas is stronger. taller and bigger than the both of you, but veritas holds your thighs in a grip that's not meant to bruise. you have too much power. veritas always gives you too much power. 

ratio ignores you and kisses your lower stomach, tongue darting out to lick right above your clit, but missing it on purpose for a few inches. you whine, complaining at his edging. aventurine is laughing at you by the way your thighs shake. the amount of teasing makes you wetter and more desperate by the second, and you are about to make a retort about it when you feel veritas mercilessly sucking hard on your clit.

head thrown back and hips bucking into ratio's mouth, you clutch his hair, hold secure around his dark locks, and automatically shove his face into your cunt, all the while aventurine flutters to your side, guiding your hand towards the hard length pressing against his abdomen.

"good," he praises when you wrap your fingers around him, pleasing aventurine just as much as veritas is pleasing you. "you love it when all the attention is on you, hm?"

you can hardly balance yourself anymore—relying on aventurine to steady you all while you give him the most uncoordinated handjob you've ever given.

before you can even process the undertones of what he just said, veritas curls his long digits inside you, coaxing a long-winded moan that you helplessly stifle with your hand.

"your thighs are quivering so much for him. i'm a little jealous. you were never this wrecked with me." aventurine licks at your fingers, putting two of them into his mouth, tongue sensually gyrating around them. it has you distracted for a moment, until you feel veritas’ lips back to work, this time on your inner thighs.

"that's probably because you spoil her too much," veritas comments with a huff.

"you hear that, sweetheart?" aventurine breathes into your ear, chuckling. "the doctor says i spoil you too much. is that true?"

and at that point, you can't even bring yourself to care anymore.

boothill & dan heng .ᐟ

“seems like she’s very interested in your cock,” boothill laughs, moving around so he could press himself in front of you, despite knowing you’re already gaping at dan heng's.

you feel dan heng's erection poking the side of your lower back, hot and so hard you tremble. his cutthroat honesty sends a guilty thrill through your veins, making you tingle everywhere his skin meets yours. dan heng doesn't waste any time, pushing your stuffy uniform off your shoulders as he practically tears through the rest of your clothes.

“not yet.” dan heng answers simply. he seems to tease, but he also seems concerned.

“yikes, ya gonna tease me all night?” boothill asks.

“i can’t imagine you’re actually worried,” dan Heng said. “you practically got on your knees and begged me to do this.”

"son of a— " you don't hear the rest, don't even know who said that, because you are grabbing boothill's face and pulling him into a kiss that instantly shuts you up and melts you into a puddle of need.

he complies easily; he kisses you like a starved man – matches his horny personality a lot –, with passion and ferocity, like he was deprived for months of any physical contact and finally has the greatest dessert he could ever have all for himself. boothill traces his fingers through your cheek, grazing softly at it, a big contrast to how he grasps the back of your head seconds later.

"will be good for you," you whisper, passing your middle finger through your hot folds once. you shiver at the brief contact, forcing yourself to stay still. "fuck me, please?"

you reach for boothill's shoulders and resting one of your hands there. the other one goes for your panties, pulling it to the side. it reveals your wet hole, blinking at dan heng in neediness. you make a show of arching your back and sticking your ass at him, content with the surprised expression washing all over his face.

“always so willing,” boothill murmurs as he braces his hands on your ass, massaging your supple flesh with reverence that should be reserved for gods alone. “i aint’ getting tired of seeing you so depraved for us.”

as if their minds are completely in sync, dan heng eases a finger inside you, and the texture of his cold fingers against the tight walls of your pussy makes you clench your thighs around his hand. boothill seems to like your reaction though, because boothill  is merciless in the way he assaults your clit with the fervor of his digits. 

“sensitive,” dan heng appreciates, flicking one of your nipples with his fingers. you whimper, unprepared for the sudden pleasant pain invading the place, and arch into the touch.

your legs are aching, stomach tying itself into knots because of the gratification that's just out of reach. the only reason you haven't slumped to the floor yet is because of dan heng's firm hold on your hips, but even when you're on the edge, everything suddenly stops and the whimper that left you should have made you feel ashamed.

“i’ll let you come as many times as you want later,” dan heng replies, peppering kisses on the back of your neck. 

sampo & gepard .ᐟ

"sampo," you mewl, using that sweet, desperate voice that never fails to make him lose control. he always talks big about wanting to tease you until you fall apart, but when you come to him willingly, sampo can never quite refuse you. "i can't... want you to fill me up."

he startles for only half a second before smirking once he realizes what you're trying to do. "don't be like that, beautiful. weren't you riding the captain's face just now? that's a bit rude of you."

 your babbling gets interrupted by gepard's tongue circling the rim with it, one, two, three times, before pressing it in, and fuck if you didn't moan, high pitched and greedy for more.

"such sweet moans, don't you think, geppie?" sampo says, moving around until he’s able to lean against your frame to suckle on your breast, still holding your wrists tightly against his chest.

"don't call me that," he whispers, it was all but wondering, because as soon as he sets your knee back down on the matress, he is propelling against your hips like a desperate teenager, and your mind unhelpfully supplies oh he is so fucking desperate and horny. 

“oh, i take no credit for how things turned out tonight,” sampo says coquettishly, but you can’t even snap at him for being so coy. "don't you want to know what she will sound like if i make her cry?"he pulls your hips flush against his—cockhead snatching against your rim. 

sampo press a hand in your back, making you arch more and stick your ass into the air, which he admires with a knead and a hum. you grab gepard´s thighs, cheeks squished on his bulge, and feeling like your life depended upon this exact moment. 

gepard gasps, "wait-oh... fuck." his voice faded into breaths of delight to small pathetic whimpers. his head lolled back, mouth slack and eyes closed.

"why don't you make it up to the captain by letting him fuck your mouth while i make a mess og you?" sampo says, and you collapse more on the bed,

and he does. sampo thrusts and thrusts hard.

he has been so gentle up until now, so you certainly aren't expecting when he rams into you so hard your head almost hit gepard’s stomach, if it weren’t for sampo holding your hips and propelling you back into his cock. he fucks slow and deep at first, clasps each of your wrists with each of his hands and tugs at it, making you arch your back and lift your upper body a little.

gepard beams at you, endearing and so precious, almost as if he's asking for your permission. you open wide, hearing him muttering a quiet fuck before he shoves himself inside. gepard moans at the feeling of the wet warmness of your mouth engulfing his cock.

"you- fuck... your mouth feels so good,” gepard whimpers, the sounds you’re doing going straight to his cock. it has his hips kicking into your throat, making you convulse around it. moans getting even louder at that, he fucks into your mouth with abandon, in synchronism with sampo's rough thrusts.

“princess likes to feel full, see?” sampo sayss, cooing at you. and it makes you feel small, especially with how they are so much bigger and broader than you. it only serves to sum up to your neediness.

jing yuan and blade .ᐟ

your eyes prickle with tears, and it doesn’t take long before you feel them running down your face; the first one goes reluctantly, but after that they start cascading on your cheeks uncontrollably. you feel so good – blade plunges into you just right, then sends you towards jing yuan’s cock, just so he could pull you back again and meet his movements half way.

jing yuan pushes you off of his cock by your hair in order for you to take a breath, and you take a moment to gape at the man. he looks downright sinful with sweat dripping down his body, and somewhere in your lost mind you’re thankful you used water-proof make up.

“fucked dumb already?” jing yuan chuckles and you feel your face heating up with pleasant shame. his patronizing tone makes you go even further into this familiar, yet unusual headspace of yours.

blade is relentless when he rams into you, making sure there’s not a single sensitive patch of flesh untouched by his cock. nothing is ever completely sweet with them. it’s all teeth and tongue, and bites and bruises.

but that’s exactly what makes you keep coming back to them—again and again.

“needy” blade groans when you tighten around him in response to his lewd remark. “hm, looks like she can’t even live without it.”

“tightest pussy you’ve ever fucked, isn’t it?” jing yuan drawls before peppering your face with the lightest of kisses—a stark contrast to the mess blade is deliberately sowing between your legs. “she’ll never say no to getting manhandled to oblivion, but you have to be gentler if you want to make her cum.”

his hot breath fans against your ear as his powerful thrusts slow into a crawl, fucking into you with a languid rhythm. as if to unintentionally prove jing yuan’s point, you frame blade’s name around a pitiful whimper, bucking your hips up to meet his. 

“she wants both of us now, general,” blade drones with a teasing tone, hips never stuttering despite. “what do you think we should do about that?”

you feel like you should be ashamed of how quickly you nod your head in agreement. you even reach for jing yuan’s cock between your legs, guiding the thick head to your swollen pussy before sinking down with a breathless moan. your hands are braced on his broad shoulders—the only leverage you’re afforded while you lose yourself to unadulterated pleasure.

these two men will be the end of you. you just know it.

just like that, you’re speared on two cocks like a bitch in heat, surrendering your autonomy to move in favor of letting these two men use you to their heart’s content. where jing yuan murmurs sweet nothings into the curve of your wrist, blade bites into the crook of your neck. the lovebites they’ve swathed across your skin will take days, if not weeks to disappear, but you’re far too gone to pay them any mind. 

jing yuan and blade time their thrusts in cadence with each other, making sure there’s not a moment that you’re left empty and wanting.

contrary to your expectations, they don’t fuck you like complete savages. it seems that jing yuan’s advice has rooted itself into blade’s mind, and they’ve silently agreed to go at it slow and steady—building up an orgasm that’ll have you craving them again for days.

. ࣪✦ ៸៸ tottentz ▐ © 2024 ､ ? 𓄹 ܵ ۪

[gaddaboutgriffon]

Super Phantom

Writing prompt #3

Danny reveals his ghost half to his parents and they took it well accepting him. As a result the doctors Fenton then backed out of the weapons deal they had with the GIW and are actively protecting Phantom from them.

The GIW don’t give up even after the anti ecto acts are being repealed and sabotaged the gas tank for Nasty Burger’s grill. This causes the explosion that would Kill Danny’s family and friends there for Jazz’s graduation celebration. Clockwork foresaw of a Dan event happening and froze time to take and de-age Danny, Jazz, Sam, Tucker and Vallarta. (Clockwork is a jerk and frankly blames Jack and Maddie for making the he portals that caused both Vlad and Danny’s halfa status and a lot more work for him. He is letting those two die.)

Clockwork then sends the Deaged to babies/toddler to different places in the Yong Justice cartoon DC universe. All the kids are liminal and have powers.

Jazz now a 3 year old is sent to Hippallita on Themescira. (Excuse my spelling) liminal powers make her strength on par with Amazons.

Sam, age 1 as well and sent to Giovanni Zattarra. Three year old Zatana gets a younger sister that also has the gift of magic. Especially nature/plant magic.

Tucker I had a hard time deciding but eventually chose Lucius Fox. (If you can think of someone better go ahead and make suggestions.)

Vallarie was Supposed to be sent to Ted Kord, but Lex Luthor was trying to tap into the watchtower’s zeta tubs but accidentally got clockwork’s portal instead. It cased he basket to be dropped instead of gently set down. Startled, two year old Vallarie instinctively activates her ghost tech armor. Now that is a curious unexpected asset Lex will find a way to utilize.

And finally deaged to one year old Danny is sent in a in a basket with a solar system print blanket with a envelope sitting on top. The portal opens and the basket is carefully set on the table with the note. Then clockwork places a folder thick with other papers of to the side. He retreats into the portal closing it behind him just as the apartment door is opening.

Clark Kent has just finished his third week of work at the Daily Planet, the evening patrol and even grocery shopping. Thoughts of the paper he needs to write and turn in the morning are on his mind as he enters his apartment in time to notice a Green glow wink out of existence from his kitchen door. He drops the now forgotten grocery bags when he hears the tiny heartbeat and rushes over to the basket on the table.

A sleeping baby. A baby! Wha- how had anyone. When his brain stops stalling he notices the letter. It reads:

Superman,

The boy’s name is Danny. You are the most likely to survive him learning to use his powers as they emerge. His parents died trying to protect him. It is not safe for him here.

I have already forged the legal documents naming you as his godfather and a cover story in the attached folder. Also three gold coins will be sent to you each month as child support. If anyone else looks at this letter the text will change to simply read that you are the godfather of this recently orphaned boy.

Clockwork.

Clark stood in shock rereading the letter in shock a dozen times. Before Lois snapped him out of it.

“Hey Smallville, it may not be Gotham but even in Metropolis you shouldn’t just leave your door open.” She called as she entered from the hall. Then she noticed the spilled bags of groceries on the floor. And came in. “Are you ok? You may be a klutz but you always pick u- Oh My God, That’s a Baby!”

Well that is enough for tonight. I will add on more later. Wonder how quickly this would grow if I don’t tag anyone? Eh just a few. @bloggerspam @confusedshades @hypewinter @zylev-blog @kizzer55555

[moonstruckme]

White Lies

summary: when you come back to work soon after getting injured on a case, all you can think about is keeping the public safe from your latest unsub; Spencer's thinking about keeping you safe

cw: case involves kidnapped and murdered women, but no details are given

Spencer Reid x bau!reader ♡ 981 words

You’re aching from sitting up straight in your chair, but you do your best to ignore it. You keep your eyes firmly on the screen as JJ presents an overview of your new case, doing your best to look engaged and attentive. A consequence of your job is extraordinarily perceptive coworkers, which means that when you have something you want to keep to yourself, you often have to go to inconvenient lengths to avoid notice. You’d hustled like never before when you’d gotten the call to come in, getting yourself situated in the briefing room a good ten minutes before anyone else arrived. That meant no one had been around to see you limping into the building, taking your time to sit down in your chair, or downing two extra-strength pain relievers with your coffee. 

Emily had expressed some surprise at seeing you back at work so soon after you were injured in the field and you’d gotten an odd look from Spencer, but neither of them had time to question you further before Hotch entered and began asking for details about the case. This one’s got to do with women being kidnapped and subsequently dumped in rural Texas, and not to be dramatic, but no physical pain can be worse than the torment of not being able to help catch the guy who’s doing this to them. All you have to do now is avoid giving anyone on your team reason to question your capability. 

“News networks have already published some details of the case, so we’ve got some damage control to do,” JJ finishes, “but the local law enforcement is very eager for our help and it seems like they’re going to be open to what we have to say.” 

“Good. Y/N.” Hotch isn’t even looking up from the case, but you snap to attention. “You’re cleared to travel?”

“Yes.” 

“Good.” He snaps the binder shut. “Wheels up in thirty.” 

Everyone else stands, and you stall, waiting until all backs are turned before pushing yourself up out of your chair with a grimace. Spencer turns around at the door, stepping aside for Garcia to pass through, and then you’re alone. 

“You’re cleared to travel?” he asks you.

“Yes,” you repeat yourself. 

Spencer crosses his arms, standing just barely in front of the door. You could push past him if you really wanted to leave, but he knows you won’t. You and Spencer haven’t been together for long, but he’s always had a way of reading you when even the other members of your team can’t. You keep your face carefully blank. “You’ve barely had any time to heal,” he says. “Who would clear you?”

“A doctor.”

“What doctor?”

You sigh, crossing your arms to match him. “My friend Maggie.” 

Spencer’s eyebrows knit together. “Doesn’t your friend Maggie live in Chicago?”

“She does,” you admit. 

“So how did she determine that you were safe for travel?” 

He’s frowning like he already knows. You think about not answering (what’s he going to do, whine to Hotch about it? They need everyone they can get for a time-sensitive case like this, and you know Spencer is just as aware of that as you are), but then you catch the flicker of worry in his gaze. It’s hard to be angry at him when he’s clearly doing what he thinks will help you most. “We talked on the phone,” you say, softly but still firm enough that you hope he won’t argue further. “I told her I feel fine, and she cleared me.” 

The sigh that leaves Spencer is so long and heavy you’re surprised his ghost doesn’t come out at the end of it. “Sweetheart,” he says, coming forward to wrap his hands around your arms. His thumbs rub synchronized paths, up and down on the skin above your elbows. “You know that’s not the same as having a doctor actually check you over. We both know you’re not fragile—” he gives you a small smile, and you feel a tug on the corners of your lips in response “—but your body is vulnerable right now. The last thing you need is to make it worse by getting hurt again in the field.” 

You can’t look him in the eyes. You can handle a verbal lashing, but it’s softness like this that wears you down, and Spencer knows it. You fix your gaze on his chin, trying to think past the sproutling of guilt he’s sneakily planted in your gut. 

Spencer gives your arms a light squeeze. “Let me just talk to Hotch,” he says, pushing his advantage. “I’ll tell him about the mixup with your clearance, and then he can decide if you should still come along on this one or not. I’m sure Garcia could use the help if you stay back.” 

You look at him, feeling like a kid chastened for being outside after dark. “Garcia’s a one-woman army, she doesn’t need me. You guys need all the manpower you can get for this case.” 

“I know.” Spencer’s tone is consoling, and that only makes it worse. He drops a kiss on the top of your head. “But I need you to be safe even more than that. Hotch might still decide to let you come, okay? Just…you have to be honest about these things, sweetheart.” He gives you a disappointed look, and you have to look away from his eyes, well-meaning as they are. “Your health is a serious thing. We need you for years, not just for today.” He ducks, catching your gaze. “Okay?”

“Okay,” you say quietly, and Spencer gives you a smile, kissing your cheek. 

“Okay, just give me a minute,” he says, and if he weren’t on the way to foil all your plans, you’d say he looks downright merry as he starts towards Hotch’s office. “I’ll let you know what he says.”

[sailorholly]

Stressed

Summary: Spencer’s been in a bad mood lately, you help him feel better.

Pairing: Season 5 Spencer Reid x F. Reader

Warnings: Smut. Minors DNI. 18+ ONLY.

W/C: 1.4k

See my Masterlist here

“Who drank the last of the coffee and didn’t make another pot?” Spencer propped up on his cane, asked the crowded police station. One of the officers set his mug down beside the case files spread on the table before him.

“I did. I’m sorry, kid. I didn’t know it was a big deal.” Spencer scoffed. “You didn’t think that anyone else would want coffee, when we have barely had three hours of sleep?” The officer looked stunned, obviously caught off guard by the grumpy FBI agent.

“Kid, like I said, I’m sorry.” Spencer limped over to an empty chair, taking a seat. “Don’t call me kid. It’s Dr. Reid to you.” Hotch shot him a warning glance. “Reid.” Spencer dropped his gaze. The officer put his hands up in defeat, muttering under his breath as he walked away.

You wait until the room clears before going over to Spencer. You walk slowly as if you were approaching a wounded animal. “I started a fresh pot just for you. I’ll bring you a cup when it’s finished.” You smile at him, but he doesn’t return it. “Thanks.”

You can tell he’s still upset. He has been moody for a few weeks. Even though you all had agreed not to profile each other, the team had been taking guesses about what was wrong. You still didn’t have an answer. Hotch tried to speak with him privately, but he wouldn’t open up.

At the end of the day, everyone was glad to be back at the hotel. It wasn’t like the comfort of your homes, but at least it was a place to lay your head down. You all had been running on fumes.

You took a shower, thinking of every detail of the abduction. Something didn’t make sense to you, and you couldn’t get your mind off it. You dried your hair, deciding to knock on Spencer’s door to talk through it.

If anyone could help you figure it out, it was him. He answers the door, looking grouchier than before. “I’m trying to sleep. What do you want?” He snaps. You take in his attire. He’s wearing a cardigan over his button up and dress pants, the same outfit he had on earlier.

You frown, pushing your way into his room. “Since when did you start sleeping in your work clothes?” He closes the door, gripping his cane as he walks toward you sitting on his bed. He sits beside you, keeping his distance.

“You’ve been a real asshole lately, Spencer. It’s so unlike you. Is there anything you want to talk about?” He looks away, avoiding your face. “You can tell me anything. I won’t judge you. I’d love to help you, especially if it gets you out of this bad mood.”

You watch as he considers your words. “Promise you won’t tell anyone?” He asks quietly. You place a hand on your heart. “Cross my heart and hope to die.” The faintest of smiles appears, the first one you’ve seen in a while.

“Now spill.” He sighs. “I am unbelievably stressed. My mom is on a new medication, and she’s giving her doctors a hard time. I got a new neighbor and he plays loud music late at night. I’ve asked him to stop, and he does for a while. Until I go on a case, when I get back, he’s started again. And I’ve been getting these headaches that won’t go away.”

He rubs his left eye, shoulders sinking in relief after he confessed. “Well, all those are valid reasons to be stressed. You really need to get laid.” You giggle, elbowing his side. “I’ve tried.” You stop laughing. You weren’t expecting a sincere answer. You were only joking.

“Wait, you’ve tried to have sex, but can’t find a partner?” You ask, a little surprised. “Yeah, I think it’s my awkwardness paired with the cane. It freaks them out. They probably think I’m an unsub.” He pushes his hair behind his ear.

“I like the cane.” You admit. “Really?” He raises an eyebrow. “Yeah! I think it’s sexy. Don’t take this the wrong way, but couldn’t you just take care of yourself?” You wince. You were having the most awkward conversation of your life with your favorite coworker.

“I tried that. But I couldn’t finish. My mind would race with a million thoughts. It kills the mood.” You lower yourself to the floor, getting on your knees in front of him. “Wha.. what are you doing?” Spencer asks nervously, his voice raising.

“Helping.” You state matter of factly. You unbutton his pants, pulling the zipper down. You’re careful when you tug his pants and underwear down his legs, going slowly so you don’t hurt him. He takes a deep breath when you wrap both hands around his hard cock.

You lower your head toward his lap, taking him between your lips. You suck slowly, waiting for his reaction. He lets out a shaky breath when you take him to the back of your throat. You suck harder now, saliva dripping down your chin.

Spencer watches you intently. He can’t believe this is happening. All the nights he had laid in bed, imagining this exact scenario as he pleasured himself. His biggest fantasy was playing out before him. He grips the white comforter on the bed with one hand, the other holds your head in place as you bob up and down on him.

This was too much. He was going to come, and he hadn’t seen you naked yet. “Come up here, I want to touch you.” He sounds almost like he’s begging. You release him, standing to remove your clothing. “Take everything off.” You command as your panties hit the floor.

He wastes no time, throwing his cardigan and shirt beside your discarded clothes. He didn’t even unbutton his shirt. You didn’t know how he managed to get it off. “Lay back against the pillows.” He scoots until his back hits the cushiony wall. You climb on top of him, legs positioned around his hips.

You start grinding against him. The head of his cock rubbing against your clit. He tilts his head back, greasy curls splayed out on the pillows. You pepper kisses against the sensitive skin of his neck, while large hands cup your breasts.

He tugs at your nipples, rolling them between calloused fingers. You feel your arousal dripping down your thighs. You couldn’t remember a time when you were more turned on. “I want you to sit on my face.” You notice the faint blush rising on his cheeks as he said the words. “You sure?” He nods his head, confirming. “I want to taste you.”

You place your thighs on either side of his head. He kisses your inner thigh, working his way up to where you need him the most. His curious tongue meets your center, collecting your arousal and bringing it to your clit. He moans, the sound vibrating against you. You clamp your legs tighter around his ears, letting him devour you.

His tongue swirls around you expertly. He could be writing in Morse Code for all you know. You reach for the headboard when his lips wrap around your most sensitive spot. The suction and heat of his mouth tip you over the edge. You reluctantly remove yourself from him, still feeling needy.

“I need you inside of me.” You kiss above his belly button and his cock twitches. “I can’t get on top because of my leg.” He points to the offending appendage like you had forgotten about it. You beam at him, as you you straddle him once more. “I got this.” You line yourself up with his hard length, sinking down on him.

He gasps when he fills you all the way. You move yourself on top of him, placing your hands on his shoulders for support. You rock your hips back and forth, letting your head tip back when he brushes your g-spot. You call his name, tilting your hips so he hits it again.

“You like that?” Spencer asks, gripping your hips, working your body with his. You feel the pressure building inside you. It’s unbelievable. You’re lucky if you get off once during sex, and your second orgasm is quickly approaching. Spencer feels you clenching around him.

“Already?” He is in complete awe of you. You were even better than he imagined. “Oh God, Spencer! I’m so close.” His hands hold you harder. He sits up, pressing his chest flush against yours. Your peaked nipples rub against his chest, adding fuel to the flames.

He removes a hand from your waist, bringing it down between you. The pad of his thumb drags across your clit, making you writhe with pleasure. He looks down at where you’re joined, admiring the view. “You’re taking me so well, Angel.” He swirls fast circles against you, and your orgasm rolls over you in waves.

Spencer watches as you come undone. He follows closely behind you, a string of curses leaving his lips. You bury your head in the crook of his neck, breathing heavily. “I need to be in a bad mood more often.” Spencer thinks out loud, his lips curling upward into a smile.

Tagging some people I think would like this.

@cindylynn @potter-puff007 @multifandom-worlds @mochie85 @wheredafandomat @cynbx @lamentis-10 @megharat-barnes @anonymously-ominous @kats72 @vivian-555 @itzdarling @emarich7 @nomajdetective @aelinismyqueen @wildernessflora @academiareid

[mediumgayitalian]

“Man overboard!”

Annabeth does, in fact, understand that such a cry warrants hastiness. Hurry, even.

“Man overboard! Man overboard!”

Most men, after all, cannot swim, and if the whispers are to be believed then this particular man is not even conscious to try. He is no doubt in peril, and the Fates have a stronger hold on his thread with every passing moment.

“Make way! Man overboard!”

If she is jostled one more time, however.

“Man overboard! Lower the ladder, man overboard!”

Should even one more crew yank her back away from the walls of the ship, patting her on the arm as they shove her ‘somewhere more befitting for such a finely dressed lady’.

“Hook it around him, for the gods’ sake, man overboard!”

There are going to be several more men joining him.

“Clear a path! Clear a path!”

She makes it, finally, to the rail unimpeded enough to lean over and see the man who, she has heard, has fallen overboard. He clings like dark-haired Danaë on the waterlogged hope of a wine barrel, bare back burned from the sun, nose nearly dragging along the friendly swirling waves. His dignity is covered, barely, by a torn, bloodstained cloth, and his tanned skin is crisscrossed with raised white scars.

He is handsome.

She stumbles back from the hull, face burning. And absurd thought to have. She seeks out deliberately a close-cropped head of blond hair, smiling tersely when Captain Grace meets her eyes, offering her a nod.

“Straight line,” she murmurs to herself, pulling back her shoulders.

She gives the men plenty of distance as they haul the downed sailor up from the depths. It irks her, really, to be following their orders, but to help or to offer it would mean more of the jostling, the pushing. More grimey hands irreparably staining the fine silk of the new dress Mother had sent her with.

It takes the crew an embarrassingly long time to haul the man up, even though Annabeth can see, as one of the bulkier men wraps a limp arm around his shoulders, that he is slight. He has the shoulders of a swimmer and the leanness of a scavenger, but his frame is small. In fact she is almost sure that upright, they would stand shoulder to shoulder. Perhaps an inch on his part, nothing more.

She realises, with a start, that the crew is staring at her, and forces her second blush of the day back from whence it came. She meets the expectant states with a tilted chin and hard eyes, drawing her skirts and clicking her heels against the groaning deck.

“What,” she snaps.

“He’s unconscious, my lady.”

“So? Place him out of the sun, have someone monitor him.”

The crewman supporting the unconscious man — truly, Annabeth needs to learn these men’s names; it would be easier if any of them spoke to her at any time other than to ask if the sun was making her feel faint — shifts from foot to foot.

Well.

Foot to peg.

“Yes,” he says eventually. He makes some sort of vague gesture with his hand, stepping forward. “Er — our thoughts exactly, my lady.”

Still, no one moves. The unconscious man’s head lolls, pitching his whole weight forward. Another sailor lunges forward to catch him, readjusting him so he’s steady.

Still, no one moves.

Annabeth shifts to face her betrothed. He winces under her sharp look, hand coming up to run the back of his neck.

“He may fare best under your care,” Captain Grace says hesitantly. “The bunks are unfit for someone in his condition. And my men can be…rough.”

“Choose your words carefully, Jason,” she warns.

Grimacing, Captain Grace plows on. “I mean no offense, my lady. We have no other women on the ship. Your cabin is cool and sheltered and I know you enjoy those weaving projects in idle time. He will not require much more than an eye to ensure he does not pass in his sleep. I can think of no one more capable to watch over him.”

The doctor, for starters, Annabeth thinks. Drunk as he is, the sickly rescue should be his charge; nursing him should be his task.

The crew doesn’t even glance at him, though. He stands happily to the side, red-faced and cross-eyed, bottle dribbling from his trouser pockets, and Annabeth fights the urge to bare her teeth.

“Whatever you believe is best, Captain,” she grits out. She glares at the crew, pausing on each man until he squirms under her gaze. “Do not leave him to soak my sheets.”

They leave him, instead, sprawled on the wooden floorboards.

Annabeth scowls.

A four week journey, her mother had told her. Barely a month at sea, with plenty of stops on the islands dotting the paths and a stack of journals for her research. Captain Grace’s vessel is exceptionally well-stocked and custom built by the brightest of his father’s engineers; so smoothly is it claimed to flow through the water that all aboard her will scarcely feel even the roughest rock of the waves.

A sharp veer to the side has Annabeth stumbling, nearly crushing herself under the man’s dead weight.

“Smooth,” she grumbles to herself, huffing as she drags him back upright. His skin is alarmingly cool from the bite of the water, and still slick. It takes her four tries to force his arm back over her shoulder, slippery as it is. “Top model, they say. Well, what a purse of lies that is. I could design a better ship in my —” she huffs, yanking him the last few feet towards her bed — “sleep.”

She could be more gentle with him, she supposes. If his head or spine is injured then her rough handling will doom him. But, well, penny, pound, et cetera. If he has a head injury and the waves haven’t killed him, her light tossing won’t, either.

Probably.

She deposits him on top of her quilt and then stands at the foot of her bed, hands on her hips, toes tapping. She tilts her head slightly to the right. Narrowing her eyes, she tilts it to the right. She wrinkles her nose and squints her eyes.

She can’t be faulted for her earlier thoughts, she decides.

He has a strange kind of charm to him. The same magnetism present in the performers of her mother’s court; men and women who gather in bright clothing and perform tricks and tease the audience, riding the thin line between furious huffing and uproarious laughter. Troublemakers, with enough skill to balance the line. Thin, twitching fingers and smile lines in the corner of his eyes, thick but maintained brows and dramatically bowed lips.

With a sound so great it rivals the billowing coal engines down billow, the man snores, trail of saliva trickling down his chin.

How revolting. Annabeth finds her lips twitching upwards and resets them deliberately into a graceful line.

Yes, he is the alluring kind. She wouldn’t be surprised if he turns out to be some kind of thief, or a cast-out stowaway. A wisecracker who pushed the envelope an inch too far.

She stalks over to the windowed wall of her tiny cabin, wrestling it open. The immediate relief of the sea breeze has her gasping, resisting the urge to stick her head out and bask in the cool air. That would be undignified, even if her room as become unbearably stifling with the presence of another person in it.

Gods, she is lonely.

She had hoped at least to have one of her ladies accompanying her. It would have been a little more bearable, the company, cramped as her cabin would be. On this ship now she is bored nearly to tears from sunup to sundown every day, barred from even the most menial of tasks that could upset her delicate womanliness and bereft of even a child to argue with. The crew tiptoes around her like she may crack to fine shards should they so much as offer her more than a fine morning, my lady, or the sun suits you quite beautifully, did you know, and Captain Grace loves nothing more than extended silences. In all honesty she only gets to talk to the ship’s mechanic, who, vulgar as he is, at least talks to her as he would anyone else on the ship. Sure, she can only stand so much of him at a time, and he’s been banned from breathing in her direction since the very first day of their expedition, but if she happens to be in the ship’s engine room as the same time as he is, then it would simply be impolite to ignore her.

Not that Valdez cares much for rules. Or her preferences.

Desperate times, et cetera, et cetera.

Knowing the deck will be too crowded for her to slip down below unnoticed, she settles down onto the old, rickety corner-desk with a sigh, cracking open her journal. Except for a string of blotty doodles along the edges, the paper is devoid of anything, as barren and numb as her mind feels. She understands, dramatic as it is, why so many sailors return from their voyages mad; why pirates and navies alike sail with crews. Even a day on the empty, open ocean without someone to talk to is maddening. She feels as if words flee from her vocabulary with every minute she doesn’t use them. What is there to do, on this stupid boat, besides sleep and eat and mope? She wishes she was allowed to steer the vessel, or watch from the nest. Not stimulating jobs, true, but jobs, at least. She has not sunk so low as to long for a deck-scrubber, but she is dangerously close. She can feel it. Another week at sea without much more than a loom and a needle and her mind will leap into the waves, she’s sure, abandoning her to the dull tedium of the stagnant clouds. The knowledge that she has three weeks left until they reach Lord Dyeus’ kingdom could make her break down into weeping, should she dwell on it long enough. By the time she returns to civilization she may no longer be suited for it.

A rustle sounds behind her, followed by a cut-off snort.

“…Somehow, I don’t think I’m at sea anymore.”

Annabeth yelps, nearly falling right off her chair. She scrambles upright, or tries to, but her stupid petticoats get caught up around her ankles and nearly send her toppling again, this time with even less of her dignity. It is only with sheer force of will that she manages to force her spine straight and upright in perfect time to meet the most gorgeous, sea green eyes she has ever seen.

“You drool when you sleep,” she informs him, darkly satisfied when the amused twinkle fades from his eyes in favour of a flat glare, hand coming up to swipe at his chin.

“I don’t suppose you could tell me where I am,” he mutters as the minutes stretch on.

Annabeth snaps her gaze back up to his face, wishing desperately her cabin had a second window.

“Captain Grace’s ship.” She swallows stiffly, collarbone suddenly itchy. “On route to the Kingdom of Lightning.”

The man’s face pales, long, calloused fingers twitching into fists.

“The ship carrying Princess Annabeth?”

Her mouth dries even further. “…Yes.”

“Someone needs to summon her, quickly. I have news. I — I come from Pirate Jackson’s ship — they threw me off board to drown.”

She knows, immediately, why he tells her this. Why his eyes go round with desperation, why his hands twist, why he has developed a sudden, scrutinizing interest in the view of the sea from outside her window, throat bobbing with every heavy suggestion.

But all hypotheses must be tested.

“Why?��

He meets her gaze, green eyes an exact mirror of the roiling sea around them; layered, stormy, and deeper than the darkest of trenches, wider than the night sky.

“Because they want to know her location. And I refused to give it up.”

———

next

[peachesofteal]

Omfg I’m in love with your works and just reread the dead disco series. I’ve been stalking the the omegaverse au for updates because I have to know what comes from Simon learning that darling was part of a trafficking ring. Does he tell Johnny? Do they confront darling or wait for her to tell them after her heat? Im on the edge of my seat :D

🖤 takes place after this

18+ MDNI / dead disco omegaverse au / explicit sex - mature themes

The bedroom is dark.

He slips inside, keeping his feet light, trying not to disturb what’s going on in his bed, your bed, Johnny’s. The sound of your moans, soft whimpers fall softly around the room, and you don’t even notice when he eases himself into between the sheets, molding his chest to Johnny, who is laying on his side with his own chest pressed to your back, easing his cock in and out of your body, fingers stroking your clit in a semi circle while you beg with sharp pitched whines.

“Al-Alpha.” You sound off balance. Insecure. And normally, he would bristle at it but now. Now, he knows. Now he understands.

“I know darling, I know.” Johnny’s voice is ragged, but he’s still in control, his mind clear as he tries to soothe the ache of your heat. You want him to fill you, basic instinct and nature taking over your body, your mind, driving you to plead with him as he drives into you over and over.

Simon should be helping. He should be enjoying this, taking over for Johnny, eager to give him a break.

But he can’t. He doesn’t even take off his clothes, just lays there, breathing the scent of you as deep as he can, licking over Johnny’s gland, watching you.

He wants to bite you. Bond you. Right now. Now, more than ever, now that he knows the truth.

“Such a good omega.” He coos, reaching out, brushing a thumb over your gland. “Such a good girl for us. So perfect.” You purr in response, your head turned over your shoulder, seeking. He’s over eager, desperate, to make you feel safe, comfortable. He can’t believe you’ve been suffering with the weight of your secrets for so long and it burns in his soul.

There will be plenty of time to address the lying, but it’s not during your heat. Not when you’re at your most vulnerable.

He’s been working hard to contain the evidence of his discomfort since he made the phone call. He sat in the living room, reading over every detail available while Johnny moved you from the tub to the bedroom, cooing and coddling you as you climb astride him when you hit the mattress.

You tired easily, Simon could hear it in the pitch of your cries, and he closed his eyes, picturing you bouncing atop Johnny’s cock, face flush with pleasure, hips desperately chasing your need.

But the pleasurable image was ripped away when he thought about the reality of what you had been through, what had been done to you.

No wonder you were hiding in the closet. No wonder you tried to run away.

This was your first heat with Alphas since you were taken, abused. Subjected to horrors that he himself hasn’t even witnessed.

He understood in a way, why you never told them. How you must feel about it. But in the same hand, he hates it. Have they not loved you enough? Made you feel safe? Secure?

He lays with a hand on your neck, thumb stroking your gland until Johnny is finishing inside you and your eyes are slipping closed with the heaviness of sleep, the scent of his come and your slick mixing in the air like ambrosia, enough to make him drool.

“What’s wrong?” Johnny’s voice shakes once Simon pulls him free into the kitchen, once they’re sure you’re asleep. He brings him into his arms, nose burying in the overgrown length of the mohawk. “Simon.” The other Alpha snaps, impatient.

“It’s… I spoke to her doctor.” He says quietly, and the blood drains from Johnny’s face. Simon fidgets with the phone screen, pulling up the the email files he downloaded.

“What is it?” Johnny’s whisper is hoarse, and the scent of his panic is rife in air.

“She’s… she’s okay. She’s not sick.” He clears his throat. “It’s- I want you to read this.” Johnny’s expression is grave when he cradles the phone, and Simon keeps him in his arms as he starts to scroll.

Everything is fuzzy.

There’s a hand moving up and down your back, working in big long strokes, smoothing across your skin and over your spine. Your lower belly is twisting, but not intensely so, and you’re laying on something warm. Simon’s chest.

Someone says something, Scottish accent lilting in sweet phrase until you’re blinking faster to try to clear your vision.

“Omega.” Johnny whispers, fingers stroking across your cheek. He’s eye level with you, and your soft purr grinds to a stop when you realize he looks sad. His eyes are heavy with worry, brow creased in the middle just slightly, and you can smell the imbalance of his emotions. Something is wrong.

Panic rises in your throat. It clouds your head again, fear making your hands shake against your body, your lower lip tugging between your teeth. What’s wrong? Why is he upset? What did you do?

“Shhh, shhh.” He soothes, clearing his expression into something calming, unaffected. “Everything’s okay, you’re safe.”

[atinylittlepain]

We'll Be Expecting You - A Joel Miller Story

Joel Miller x pregnant!reader/pregnant!oc

Joel Miller masterlist

Baby Miller is on the way. Are they ready?

warnings | 18+ SMUT, angst, descriptions of pregnancy, descriptions of giving birth (non graphic lol)

a/n | it's here! this can be read as a standalone fic but it is really a continuation of Unexpected Expectings, it's pretty fun either way I think :) also, um, it's long, so go get a snack and sit down, yeah?

.......................

“That’s it, honey. Feels good, huh?” His lips are a smear against her temple, bare chest curled over her back as he keeps her steady with firm but gentle palms smoothing up her hips. She clenches her hands against the bathroom counter, weakly pressing back into him with each thrust.

“Joel– feel s’good, fuck– don’t stop, please–” He shushes her, bringing one of his hands down below the swell of her belly, fingers finding her clit and rubbing tight circles that have her whining and throwing her head back against his shoulder. This has become how most mornings start since she had entered her third trimester, the morning sickness that had been rocking her all but gone and a new wave of hormones that had made her impossibly needy for him. And sensitive. 

“C’mon, mama. I know you can give me one more. Please– need to feel you.” The low thrum of his words is all it takes to snap the banded pleasure pulled taut at her spine as her cunt spasms around him. He’s not far behind, rutting into her one more time before his warmth is spreading through her core, his damp forehead pressing between her shoulder blades. He lays a kiss to the nape of her neck, a comfort as he pulls out and she whimpers. Turning in his hold, they meet in a sloppy kiss as she runs her fingers through his hair, brushing back his sleep-mussed waves. His palms splay over the wide arc of her belly, and he pulls away with a chuckle, looking down at his hands and shaking his head in awe.

“I think our boy’s awake, darlin.” She grins, laying her hands over the tops of his.

“You’re still gunning for a boy, huh?” His eyes dart up to hers, a crooked smile on his face. She shakes her head, but doesn’t say anything, smacking one more kiss to his lips before getting the water running for their shower.

It’s a bit of a struggle getting dressed these days. There aren’t exactly any maternity stores to go shopping at in Jackson. She’s been making do with an elastic looped through the button of her jeans and Joel’s flannels, but even those are starting to stretch at the swell of her stomach. It’s hard to believe that they’ve made it to December, that in a little under a month it’s going to be time for this baby to come, one way or another. 

She’s trying to stay calm, Joel already a nervous wreck the closer they inch to her projected due date, but the truth is, she’s just as scared as he is, if not more. There were no two ways about it, it hadn’t been an easy pregnancy. Much to her initial protest, Joel had gotten her off patrol shifts early on, but she wasn’t so upset about that when the vertigo episodes started coming on daily. There had been many a time when she just had to lay down where she stood and close her eyes until the room stopped spinning, something the town doctor had assured her wasn’t uncommon in pregnancy. 

It certainly freaked Joel out though. He wouldn’t move from her side if he was with her when it happened, keeping a warm palm rubbing up and down her back. What had scared him more was when she actually started to lose weight during the second trimester, her nausea getting so bad she was lucky to keep sips of water down. He had taken time off of patrol then, staying by her side and trying to coax any food into her system that she could tolerate. They learned then that baby Miller had a particular affection for mashed potatoes. But it seemed like she was out of the woods once she hit the seven month mark, at least until the delivery. 

“You know, I can still tell Tommy to go with someone else.” She huffs at his words, finishing up the buttons of her (his) shirt before waddling over to him. That’s the other thing, she waddles now. She’s never waddled in her entire life. She can see the entirely amused look on his face as he watches her from where he’s standing in their bedroom. When she reaches him she smacks his chest lightly before rubbing her palms up to clasp behind his neck and tug on his hair.

“I’m glad my gimpy walk is entertaining to you, Miller. But you wouldn’t be looking so smug if you had an entire human pressing down on your pelvis with each step.” He breathes a laugh, dipping down to press a kiss to her scrunched nose. 

“I know, darlin. That’s why I think I need to stay close. I just– I don’t wanna–” She leans up to cut him off with a kiss.

“You’re not gonna miss anything. We’ve got nearly a whole month before doctor Graham thinks it’ll be time. And I’m feeling the best I have in the last eight months.” He huffs, shaking his head at that as he brushes his knuckles under her jaw.

“You’re tougher than most, that’s for sure.” She snorts at his words.

“Damn right I am. Go. Do your watch with Tommy. And come back on Wednesday in one piece.” She rests a palm over the curve of her stomach. It’s obvious Joel’s fighting a smile under his furrowed expression, but he finally gives in.

“Alright, mama. I’ll be back before you know it, yeah?” He brings his much larger hand to rest over hers on her belly. She grins.

“We’ll be expecting you, Joel.”

…

Joel heads out soon after a quick breakfast. He and Tommy do this every season, camping out at the dam for a few days to make sure everything’s in order. Nothing was ever really wrong, a few swaths of infected, maybe a stray raider or two. It’s a routine check-up, and she isn’t worried in the slightest. It’s Monday, and he should be back Wednesday morning, nothing to worry about at all.

As she’s washing up after breakfast, Ellie comes bounding into the kitchen, holding something behind her back. She turns from the sink, resting her hand on her hip and taking in Ellie’s wide-eyed expression.

“Don’t take this the wrong way, but I swear you get rounder everyday. Seriously, that kid is gonna bust out of you all Alien style. Like ahhhhh.” Ellie makes more groaning noises, miming an explosion around her own abdomen before dissolving into laughter. She however, is less than amused.

“I take it that’s what was playing at movie night yesterday?” The girl hums, seeming to remember what she actually came in to tell her. She holds out what she had been hiding behind her back.

“Traded for this last night. Thought it’d be nice for the baby since she’s coming in the winter and everything.” She takes the bundle of fabric from Ellie, holding it out and seeing that it’s a sweet little quilt embroidered with pink and purple flowers. The other thing about being pregnant is how emotional she’s gotten, and before she even knows it, she’s starting to sniffle as she grasps the plush blanket. Ellie’s brow furrows, coming alongside her and awkwardly patting her back.

“Shit, don’t cry. It’s nice right?” She chuckles wetly, pulling Ellie into a tight hug that elicits a small “oof” from the girl before pulling away and holding her by her arms.

“It’s so nice, Ellie bean. I love it. Baby’s gonna love it too. I’ll tuck it in the crib for when they get here.” Ellie grins.

“You know, you can just say she. Everyone except for Joel thinks it’s gonna be a girl anyways.” She laughs, shaking her head at Ellie’s smug expression.

“I know. But he wants a boy so bad, the damn fool. I’ve been waiting to finish putting together the nursery because everything people have given me is pink.” Ellie laughs at that, sidling past her to get a glass of water from the kitchen.

“Might be a good time to get that done. Just rip the band-aid off before he gets back, you know?” She hums, folding the blanket back up in her hands.

“You’re probably right, kid. I’ll work on it today. The pinkening.” Ellie snorts around a swig of water before glancing at the clock hanging over the stove.

“Shit, I gotta go. My shift started five minutes ago.” She squeezes the girl’s shoulder as she brushes past.

“Be safe, alright? You better be home for dinner.” Ellie smiles, nodding over her shoulder as she’s already halfway out the door.

…

She’s been keeping all the baby odds and ends she’s been given in old boxes in a closet upstairs. Most of it really is pink, and she didn’t want to dash Joel’s hopes just yet. She picks up one of the boxes with a groan, shuffling down the hall to the nursery they’ve been working on. It had been Ellie’s room when they first got here. It was obviously a teen girl’s room before, bright colors and patterns on the curtains and the rug. But Ellie was more than happy to trade the room for her own little apartment in the garage that Joel had helped her build out. She could play her music as loud as she wanted to, a point that had really sold her on the idea. The twin bed remains in the room, but now pressed against the wall across from it is a crib. Joel had worked on it all summer, collecting scrap wood, sanding it down to perfection, carefully laying the pieces together, and carving swirling patterns into the rails. She had spent many a hazy afternoon sitting in his workshop with him, ogling the push and pull of his muscles under his thin t-shirts as he worked on it.

She shakes her head of her quickly simmering thoughts, starting to pull out impossibly tiny pieces of clothing to fold in the dresser. It feels odd, this quasi-nesting she’s doing. She certainly never thought she’d get to do anything like this after, well, after. In her old life, she did want kids someday, but she had only just started college when the world fell to pieces, and suddenly that desire turned into a pipe dream that she resolved herself to let go of. How things have changed.

She spends the rest of the morning organizing the baby’s room, laying the blanket Ellie had given her in the crib as a final touch. 

Pregnancies were sort of a big deal in town, and for good reason, so when folks found out that baby Miller was on the way, they started dropping off old toys and books, cloth diapers and bottles, anything that might be helpful. It was nice, if not a little stifling. She knew there was a weariness to their excitement for her, an unspoken acknowledgement of how quickly it could all go south. The further along she got, the less she liked being out around town as people seemed to get more handsy, asking more questions about how she was doing that only made her nerves worse. The only person who disliked it more than her was Joel, keeping a protective hand over her belly whenever they were out in town together, a deep scowl on his face if someone started getting too nosy. But at this late stage of pregnancy, her doctor had all but commanded her off any work detail, a free pass to stay in and away from prying eyes, though she did still like to help out at the stables most days. 

Glancing at her watch she sees it’s about time for her to head over to the stables. She sighs, standing in the doorframe to take one more look at the nursery.

“Ready when you are, baby girl.”

…

“You must be distracted because I’m whooping your ass harder than usual, man.” Joel huffs at Tommy’s words, throwing his cards down on the table and sitting back in his chair. Night is quickly closing in on the plains, and the brothers have set up their usual camp in the dam control room, a small lantern lighting their games of gin. Tommy smirks at his brother.

“Joel, she’s fine. She’s got Maria and Ellie looking out for her, and doctor Graham told you herself that everything’s looking good. There’s nothing to be worried about.” Joel scoffs, crossing his arms over his chest.

“Don’t remember you being so relaxed when Maria was this close to her due date.” He’s got him there, a beat of silence passing before Tommy shrugs.

“Okay, maybe that’s true. But looking back, there was no point to that, getting so freaked out. Because I knew that Maria was strong, that she’d get through it. And hell, that woman of yours is one of the strongest people I ever met.”

“It’s not just about strength, Tommy, not in this world. You know that. One little thing gone wrong, that’s all it’d take.” Tommy lays his cards down, leaning over the table to look Joel straight in the eye.

“Well, that’s why we’re not gonna let anything go wrong, huh? All of us, Joel. We’ve got her. We’re gonna finish this watch and then we’re gonna go home and she’s gonna be fine because we’ve got her.” Joel swallows thickly, not wanting to press the issue any further, though his mind is still swirling in worry. He nods at Tommy.

“Get some sleep. I’ll take first shift. We’ll sweep the south side tomorrow morning.” Tommy nods, getting up and squeezing Joel’s shoulder before laying out his sleeping bag and settling in. 

As the quiet of the night deepens, Joel finds his mind wandering. He can’t help thinking about how different the circumstances with Sarah had been. And not just for the obvious reasons. Joel had been so young, so reckless, and when Sarah’s mom came to tell him they hadn’t been as careful as they thought they had, it turned his world upside down. What had started as a hazy one-night stand turned into a shotgun wedding, an attempt to do what his father told him was the right thing. But the only thing that brought them together was Sarah, and even that hadn’t been enough. Before his baby girl could even walk, Sarah’s mom had flown the coop, divorce papers in the mail a few months after she left. Joel didn’t even care, not when he suddenly could hold his whole life in his arms. Sarah was his whole life, from the moment she was born until the moment he lost her.

But this was different. Joel still has a hard time telling her he loves her, mostly because it feels like love isn’t a big enough word for what they have, what they’ve been through together. But, he does love her, so much it terrifies him. He’s been struggling to even wrap his mind around what he feels about this baby, their baby. Part of him fears forgetting Sarah, though he knows that’s impossible. The other part of him fears just how far he already knows he’d go for this person who isn’t even here yet. 

He sighs, scrubbing a hand down his face. It’s going to be a long night.

…

It had been a long night. She had already been having trouble sleeping, but laying down in an empty bed made it all but impossible to get any rest. It had also been a particularly uncomfortable night. Wicked cramps had kept her restless through most of the night. She wakes up the next morning to a clenching pain in her low back. She assumes it’s just because of the weird position she had ended up sleeping in, curled on her side in a jumble of pillows, and hobbles out of bed with a groan. Glancing at her watch, she’s shocked to see how late she slept, quickly cleaning herself up and padding downstairs, wincing at how the pain doesn’t seem to be dissipating. 

She finds Maria and Ellie in the kitchen, both of them brightening when she walks in.

“Well, good morning. Was starting to get a little worried that the alien finally busted out of your guts.” Ellie laughs at her own joke, but Maria shoots the girl a look before smiling back at her.

“You feeling alright?” She huffs, rubbing her low back.

“Yeah, just a little tired I guess. But my back is killing me. It’s like someone is wringing my spine.” Maria hums, passing her a glass of water.

“Sounds about right. I remember I could barely walk that last month, my back had seized up so much. Are you hungry? I made oatmeal.” She scrunches her nose, shuffling over to the kitchen table.

“I’m really not, but thanks. Think I just need to sit down for a moment.” Ellie takes the seat beside her, concern splashed over her face.

“Are you sure you’re ok?” She tries to offer her a smile, but it comes out more as a grimace.

“I’m alright, Ellie bean. I just–” She cuts herself off with a gasp when a sharp pain slices hot through her pelvis. It’s only afterwards that she realizes she had dropped the glass she was holding, shards all over the floor. Maria is cleaning the mess up in a flash with a dishrag.

“I’m so sorry, Maria– I don’t know what that was, I–” “Oh, shit.” Her eyes dart back to Ellie who’s staring at her pants. She glances down, having to look twice when she sees the liquid darkening the insides of her pant legs. She feels a cool panic settling in her spine.

“No no no no no–”

“Ellie, go tell doctor Graham she needs to get here, immediately. You’re gonna have to ride out to the dam after and get Joel.” Ellie nods at Maria’s words, her mouth agape, as she jerkily stands, but stays still, staring at her. Maria brings a hand to her shoulder.

“Go, Ellie. I’ve got her.” Ellie finally looks away, dashing out the front door. She meanwhile feels like her head is full of static, the only salient thought she’s having coming out of her mouth like a prayer.

“It’s not time yet, it’s not time yet.” Maria kneels down in front of her, taking her hands and squeezing hard.

“It looks like it’s time, alright? A little early, but nothing we can’t handle. C’mon, we need to get you cleaned up and comfortable.” Maria goes to help her out of her chair but just then another shooting pain jolts through her that leaves her gasping for breath. Her voice is a cracked whine when she speaks again.

“I need him here, please, Maria. I can’t do this without him.” Maria nods, eyes wide.

“Listen, Ellie’s gonna get him back here as quick as she can. But we gotta worry about you right now, ok? Can I help you stand up?” She’s already helping her up, tucking under her arm to help her walk.

She can’t believe this is happening.

…

She can’t believe this is happening.

Ellie mounts Shimmer in a panicked haze, and when she gets out of the walls of Jackson, she rides harder than she ever has before.

She had been excited about this new addition to what she had only just started to call her family, but now, there’s only pure fear running like ice in her veins. This wasn’t supposed to happen like this, and it has become incredibly clear that she could lose her today. The biting cold wind is freezing her tears on her face, but all she can think about is the gasp the woman she had started to think of as her mom had let out, and the crumpled look of pain that dashed across her face. If she hustles, it’ll be a three-hour ride out and back home. A lot can happen in six hours.

…

“Can we open the windows? I feel like I’m sweating buckets.” Even though it’s the middle of winter in Wyoming, Maria nods, creaking both windows open to let the frigid air in. She won’t let it show, but she’s nervous. It’s early, and unexpected. Unexpected is never good. 

Kevin had come early, back before. They had to keep him in an incubator for two weeks. She remembers only being able to touch him through plastic gloves, how it had sent her reeling, not being able to hold him close to her right away. What she would have given to have him laid on her chest the instant he was born instead of being whisked away by nurses. She just hopes that it’s not too early for her, this woman she’s come to think of as a sister.

She had certainly been wary of her, and of Joel, when they first came, grizzled partners of obvious violence that they were. But seeing the way they took care of Ellie, and of each other, it became clear to her that their violence was never purposeless, rather an unavoidable cost to their quiet love for one another. They were family now.

“Let’s get you into some fresh clothes, alright?” She nods to Maria, biting down on her clear expression of turmoil as Maria takes her into the bathroom.

“Do you think you can stand for a bit? Would a shower help?” She gets no response, a vacant stare has settled over her face. Maria kneels down to get on her level where she’s sitting on the closed toilet seat.

“Hey. I need you to stay right here with me, alright? Ellie’s gonna get Joel back here as quick as she can. But you have to focus on this right now. I’ve got you, you’re not gonna do this alone.” She brings her focus back on Maria, tears threatening to spill over. A twinge runs through Maria’s chest at the sight of this normally tough woman on the brink of dissolving. She takes both her hands in hers.

“C’mon, let’s get you cleaned up.”

…

Tommy hasn’t seen his brother like this in a long time. As he patrols the perimeter of the dam, he thinks to himself that Joel probably hasn’t acted like this since before the world ended, since before he lost Sarah. While it’s clear he’s worried, it’s also clear he cares. And while he’d never admit it to him, Tommy can see that he’s excited. For the first time in a long time, Tommy thinks that Joel looks wide awake.

But, damn, had he been so close to fucking it all up. Tommy had been so upset that day, when she knocked on his door and dissolved into tears, telling him what his brother had said. She’s tough as nails, and so is Joel, but it’s clear they’re each other’s weak spot. He’s just happy Joel didn’t fuck it up any worse afterward. There was no question he knew how to do it right. It was something Tommy always admired, and aspired to, how good he was with Sarah. When he found out Maria was pregnant, his mind often wandered to those first years that Joel had Sarah, and how amazed Tommy had been at how quickly he filled his new role. A natural father. Joel had told him he was hoping for a boy, but Tommy couldn’t see his brother not raising a girl.

He keeps walking through the snow, eyes shifting, looking for anything out of place. Like usual, it’s quiet, and he reckons Joel is finding the same thing from where he’s surveying a little further south. 

It’s not quiet for long, however, his ears pricking to the sound of what he thinks are galloping hooves. He stills, cocking his gun, eyes darting around him, settling on the lone rider bounding toward him. He fixes his sight in the scope of his rifle, letting out a low curse when he can see that it’s Ellie.

This can’t be good.

…

“You’re about six centimeters dilated. We’re getting there, my dear.” She lets out a low groan as the next contraction washes over her.

“Jesus, fuck.” Doctor Graham checks her watch.

“Five minutes apart. And it ain’t jesus, honey. That’s all you.” Maria snorts at that, helping her get up from her bed so she can start pacing again. It’s the only thing that’s been taking her mind off the contractions. She glances at doctor Graham who has sat down in the armchair to take more notes.

“Doctor? How much longer do you think until it’s time to– it’s time–” She sets down her notepad, smiling softly at her.

“Well, I’d say anywhere from two to four hours until you’re ready to push. But then that’s gonna be a whole new rodeo. And I’ve told you a hundred times already to just call me Suze.” She nods, trying to muster a smile as she continues to pace the rug, Maria hovering alongside her. She glances at her, a hopeful lift to her brow.

“Joel will be back by then, right? He’ll be back in time?” Maria sighs, squeezing her arm.

“I just don’t know. But I hope so.” She doesn’t have time to frown at her words, not when a new contraction is making her keel over where she stands. 

“Three minutes apart that time. Certainly getting closer. Baby’s gonna be here soon.”

…

Joel feels like he’s drowning as they hurry to mount up and get home. When Tommy and Ellie had come bounding towards him, he didn’t believe it at first, had shouted at Ellie that it was impossible, it was too early.

“Well you’re not the one who saw her fucking water break, old man!” That had shut him up quick. As they strap their packs to their horses, it feels like tiny fissures are splitting through his heart, and each breath is threatening to send him crumbling to pieces. He can’t think about it, if he does he’ll get paralyzed by terror, but all he wants is to scream because she needs him and he isn’t there. 

He’s broken out of his haze by the stark sound of guns cocking. 

They jerk around in a flash, he and Tommy holding up their rifles, Ellie whipping out a knife. Four men come prowling out of the treeline, the mouths of their guns facing them down. Raiders no doubt. Joel is just about ready to destroy them with his bare hands if he has to, but he takes a beat, trying to gather his fracturing thoughts.  One of the men finally speaks.

“You folks better drop your weapons if you know what’s good for you.” No one moves, Joel quickly glancing at Tommy.

“I said drop your fucking weapons!” Here’s what Joel knows in that moment. He knows that Ellie still carries a gun tucked in the back of her belt, even though he keeps telling her not to. He knows Tommy’s got a side piece tucked under his jacket, as well as a hunting knife strapped to his leg. And he knows that he himself has enough unadulterated rage in his body right now to rip this man’s head clean off his shoulders. 

He glances at Tommy and Ellie again, the slightest nod, and they all drop their weapons, palms up. The men step closer, eyeing the horses.

“Where are you folks from?” It’s Tommy who responds.

“Nowhere, we’re just passing through.” The man sneers at him.

“Oh yeah? Those horses look pretty good for you to be just passing through.”  Ellie butts in.

“We–we stole them! From an old couple a few miles north.” The men keep inching up on them. Joel just needs them to get a little closer. The man who seems to be the leader sizes Joel up.

“Well, then I guess it’s no hard feelings if we take them off your hands, huh?” It’s almost imperceptible, the look he shoots at Tommy and Ellie, a silent understanding that’s arisen after enough standoffs together. Joel’s on the man before he can even get his finger on the trigger.

He can hear gunshots ringing out, catching the sight of two of the men falling in his periphery, but he’s too zeroed in on the man he’s throttling into the ground to check if it had been Tommy or Ellie who got them. He keeps his hand pinning the gasping man down by his throat, reaching back to draw his knife out.

“Real sorry about this, but the missus is expecting me.”

…

She thinks briefly of the time she got shot in the thigh. Back when it was her, Joel, and Tess, and their smuggling business in the Boston QZ. Tess had to pluck the bullet out of where it had lodged in the muscle of her thigh, digging a pair of tweezers into the wound. She thinks that this hurts way more than that. 

Her voice doesn’t sound like her own, doesn’t even sound human,  when she lets out a low, guttural scream, pressing her head back into the pillows, her chest heaving under her sweat-soaked tank top. Doctor Graham - Suze - is kneeling on the end of the bed between her spread legs. Maria is holding her hand tight alongside the bed.

“Nine centimeters. We’re gonna have you pushing in the next hour, my dear.” She sobs, shaking her head.

“No, we can’t– we can’t yet– please– we have to wait–” Maria shushes her, bringing a damp cloth to her forehead.

“Listen, Joel’s gonna get here when he gets here– if we try to wait it could hurt you or baby. You have to do this, Joel or no Joel.”  Maria squeezes her hand, offering her sips of water that she refuses. She lets out a humorless laugh, bracing for another contraction.

“I swear to god if he doesn’t get here in time, I’m gonna fucking kill him.”

…

Ellie’s never seen Joel move so fast, and the second he’s mounted, he’s gone, damn near impossible to catch up with in the whipping snow. She and Tommy do their best to stay on his tail, but he quickly becomes a speck in the distance as they all ride home.

…

She’s not sure how long she’s been pushing now, but it feels like an eternity. The only thing keeping her a sliver sane is Maria guiding her through each push, breathing with her.

“We’re crowning, my dear. You’re doing so great, honey. Let’s get ready for another strong push.” Her eyes dart between Suze who’s kneeling between her legs and Maria, wild panic creeping up her throat. Maria takes both her hands, holding her gaze firm and steady.

“I’m here with you. We’re gonna do it together, alright?” Suze squeezes her knee.

“I’m gonna count you down, my dear, and then I want another beautiful push just like you’ve been doing. Three– two–”

She lets out a blood-curdling scream on one.

…

“Open the fucking gates!” Joel glances over his shoulder, barely making out Tommy waving his red bandana in the air and hollering into the wind. He turns back, hearing the harsh groan of the wall opening. He’s coming in hot, hotter than he should. Normally people have to dismount before they pass through. But nothing about this is normal. 

He whips through the narrow opening, galloping right down the main drag of town, people scrambling in shock to get out of his way. 

When he reaches their home, he sees a whole cluster of people hanging on the railings of the porch, heads craned up towards the open windows on the second floor. He brings his horse to a hard, skittering stop, the crowd whipping around to look at him with agape expressions. He dismounts, but is stuck where he stands when a preening scream comes resounding from the windows. His heart finally shatters. He rushes up to the front door before thinking twice and shouting over his shoulder at the bystanders.

“Don’t you people have anything better to do? Get!” He barely hears their shocked gasps as he slips inside and slams the door behind him.

He’s still got his rifle strapped around him as he bounds up the stairs two at a time. He shoulders into the bedroom right as she’s letting out another ragged scream. The sight of her takes his breath away, her crumpled expression as she finishes pushing, her sweat-damp hair stuck to her face. Suze is quick to fix him with a hard look before he gets any closer.

“Oh, absolutely not, mister. You’re not getting anywhere near her until you lose the gun and clean off whoever’s blood that is.”

…

Her eyes crack open after her last push and she’s shocked to see him standing there.

“Joel?” He yanks his rifle off his shoulder, dropping it outside the bedroom door. She can see blood spattered across his jacket and face. 

“I’m right here, baby.” He quickly shucks off his jacket and boots, hustling over to the bathroom. She cranes her neck and can just see him harshly scrubbing at his arms and face before he hurries back into the bedroom, Maria moving out of the way to let him kneel down alongside the bed. She narrows her eyes at him as he takes her hand.

“F-f-fuck you. I’ve been trying– trying to wait for you all day. Do you know how fucking hard that’s been?” His face goes slack at her harsh words, but before he can respond a contraction hits and she has to push, curling up over her stomach and bearing down hard as Suze counts her through it. She squeezes his hand tight, slumping back in a mess of heaving breath when she’s done. He takes her face in his hands, holding her gaze steady.

“Are you seriously mad at me right now? I’ve been trying to get back to you all goddamn day! You were the one that told me to go, you mad woman!” She huffs, getting ready to reply but Suze cuts her off.

“Hey! You two! Cut the bullshit so we can get this baby out, huh? A few more strong pushes is all it’s gonna take.” Her focus immediately falls back to the pain she’s in, and she grips onto both of Joel’s wrists, whimpering his name.

“I’ve got you, mama. Tell me what you need. What can I do, baby?”  

“Want you closer, please– n-n-need you with me, closer.” He shushes her, letting go of her face and coaxing her to sit up a bit as he gracelessly crawls onto the bed to slide behind her. His legs splay out, framing her bent knees, and she rests back into his chest, her head laying back on his shoulder. For a moment, relief floods through her body as he brings a forearm to wrap over her sternum, hand squeezing her opposite shoulder as he presses kisses into her damp hair.

Suze settles back into position between her legs, Maria now standing alongside the bed with towels and scissors ready. Suze gives her a firm nod.

“Alright, my dear. I’m gonna count you down and you give me another strong push.” She brings her hands to curl over Joel’s forearm bracing, herself for another lick of pain, while he lowly murmurs in her ear.

“I’m here with you, baby. You’ve got this. I’m right here.”

…

“Three– two– one.” The scream she lets out sends a jagged shiver down Joel’s spine and he finds himself grinding his teeth as she bears down, her nails digging hard into his arm. He hadn’t been there for Sarah’s birth, not really, she was a c-section. This is certainly different.

She slumps back in his hold, her head lolling on his chest as she looks up at him through teary eyes.

“I can’t– I can’t do anymore, Joel– please.” He squeezes her shoulder, bringing his other hand to tangle with one of hers.

“You can, baby– I know you can– strongest person I know, huh? You’re so close, baby, just a little bit more.” She lets out a broken sob and Joel hates that he can’t do more for her, helplessly pressing a kiss to her forehead and continuing to murmur to her. Suze clears her throat.

“I think this next one is gonna do it. But you gotta make it a good one, my dear. Can you do that for me?” She huffs in his hold, shuddering around another sob before sitting up a little more against his chest.  When she looks up at him, there’s steel in her eyes and Joel realizes that those weren’t just comforting words he told her, she really is the strongest person he’s ever met. She looks back at Suze and gives her a quick nod.

“Count me down. I’m ready.”

…

It’s a searing pain and then the sweetest relief she’s ever felt. The room is awash with the sound of cries and it makes her head go dizzy that it’s coming from her baby. Suze snips the umbilical cord, and Maria wraps the squirming thing up in towels before giving her a bright smile.

“It’s a girl.” What she wasn’t expecting was the breathy laugh Joel lets out over her shoulder at that, his words dripping in awe.

“It’s a girl. Our girl.”

Maria carefully walks to the side of the bed and lays her on her chest. It’s the most natural feeling thing in the world as she cups her impossibly small head, a tiny palm splaying like a star over her sternum. Joel brings a tentative palm over their girl’s little back. She glances back at him, tears settling in the creases of his smile. 

“You did it, darlin. Did so good for her– you’re amazing.” She breathes out a wet laugh.

“I had help.” Joel grins, pressing a kiss to her temple.

“Just a little. But that was all you.” She snorts, looking back down on her girl whose cries have settled into low coos before glancing back at Joel.

“You helped.” That makes him laugh, gaze focusing back on their girl.

“Just a little. Christ– know I wouldn’t shut up about wanting a boy– but she’s perfect.” She smiles, settling back against his chest and watching as her eyes open for the first time, wide and wild as she seems to take in her and Joel. He lets out a low sigh.

“Hey, baby girl. M’sorry I almost missed you. Never gonna happen again, huh? Think your mama would kill me first.” She scoffs, jostling back against him as he chuckles. He rests his chin on her shoulder, fully enrapt with their girl as she starts to look around, tiny fingers flexing against her chest.

“What’s her name, darlin?” She bites her lip, craning her neck to look back at him.

“I was thinking Olivia Sarah Miller. What do you think?” She sees his features soften even more, a sweet sadness threading into his joy. He nods.

“I think that sounds perfect for our girl. I love you, darlin. Love you both so much.” His voice is warbly, but she’s still never heard him sound so sure of something. She offers him the same certainty in her own voice.

“I love you too, Joel. And our little family.”

The sound of stomping boots sounds through the house, and Ellie comes blustering into the room, cheeks red and puffing hard breaths.

“Oh thank fuck. Is it– are you– are you ok?” Maria and Suze both chuckle from where they’re cleaning up Suze’s supplies. She smiles at Ellie, lightly nodding, but it’s Joel who speaks.

“They’re both alright, kid. Your sister’s a fighter, just like her mama.” As if on cue, Olivia lets out a small cry, her tiny fist pressing into her chest. Ellie laughs in disbelief.

A little family indeed.

…

Joel’s back is killing him. The first few weeks have been a bit touch and go with Libby coming so early, and they’ve been sleeping in a crunched tangle on the twin bed in the nursery, hardly leaving the room, making sure she’s warm and fed at all times. So Joel’s back is killing him, but he doesn’t care at all, not when every time he leans over the crib he’s met with the sweet sight of their girl, their little amalgamation of all their best parts. 

“Well, she’s looking good, very healthy, nice strong lungs, putting on weight just like we want her to. I’d say you’ve got a tough one on your hands.” His shoulders slacken in relief at Suze’s words as she starts packing up her bag of medical tools. Libby begins to fuss in her crib and her mama is quick to pick her up, murmuring to her and bouncing her lightly before turning her attention back to the doctor. 

“So would you say we’re in the clear?” He can see the worry creased across her face as she asks the question to Suze. He brings his arm around her shoulders, squeezing lightly as he gazes down at their girl. Suze grins.

“While anything’s possible, my professional opinion is that Miss Olivia here is going to do just fine. Although right now I’d say she’s looking a little hungry, so I’ll get out of your hair.” Suze slings her bag over her shoulder, nodding to them both before letting herself out.

She’s already moving to sit in the rocking chair that had been a gift from Tommy and Maria. Joel would never admit it, but he’s been getting worked up every time he gets to see her feed their girl. A softness takes over her that’s rare in this world, all hushed murmurings as Libby’s hand splays over the swell of her breast, content gasps coming from their girl as she starts to suckle. Joel can’t help but hover whenever he gets the chance, leaning against the back of the chair and dropping a kiss to her temple every now and again, sharing little smiles between watching their girl.

“Ellie told me she thinks you’re getting soft, Miller. Said she can’t believe you’ve opted out of patrol shifts to work the stables.” Joel huffs, standing up straight to stretch his aching back.

“Just got more important things closer to home I guess. But I ain’t getting soft, no ma’am.” She hums at that, craning her neck to peer at him.

“Oh really? It wasn’t you I heard up here yesterday afternoon singing some sweet little song to Libby?” He balks at that, trying to stifle a grin as he shakes his head. He had spent some time with their girl yesterday afternoon while she caught up on sleep on the couch downstairs, and maybe he had started humming tunes to her, watching her eyes widen with the sound of his voice like magic.

“Nah, couldn’t have been me. Think you’re hearing things, darlin. All them hormones are messing with you.” She rolls her eyes at that, righting her shirt before standing with Libby in her arms. She sways slightly side to side, looking at him over the top of Libby’s head.

“I like you soft, Joel. It’s a good look on you. At least when you want to be.” There’s such adoration in her eyes as she looks at him that he can’t help the blush creeping up his neck. 

“Only for my girls. Everyone else can fuck off.” She laughs hard at that, shushing Libby when she starts to fuss at the sound. He shuffles over to her, coaxing their girl out of her arms and into his. He had thought it’d feel awkward, holding her for the first time, but it all came back to him in a flash, and now nothing felt quite as right as when he had her little body resting in his arms. She steps back, taking in the sight of him and humming.

“Don’t let Ellie see you like this, she’s gonna think you’ve gone full teddy bear.” He only grumbles a little, too focused on watching their girl’s wide eyes peering around. If being soft means he gets moments like this, he’ll take all of Ellie’s heckling, no complaints at all.

…

“So what’d the doctor say? Everything looking good?” “Kid, if you don’t chew first you’re gonna choke with the way you’re talking. Just slow down a little, huh?” Ellie huffs at Joel, swallowing around her bite of dinner before looking at her expectantly. She chuckles lightly at the girl’s eager expression.

“She said Libby’s doing great, told us that she’s a tough one.” Ellie grins, startling Joel when she slaps him on the back.

“Well seeing as she came from you two hardasses I’d sure hope she’s tough– I say that with love, of course.” Joel grumbles, side-eyeing her and muttering “of course.” She lays her hand over Ellie’s from across the table.

“Ellie, I never really thanked you for what you did that day, riding out like that. You don’t know how much that meant to me.” Suddenly shy, Ellie offers her a soft smile, shrugging.

“Couldn’t let the old man miss all the fun, right? I’d do it again in an instant, just so you know. Seeing as I– like– love you guys– I guess.” She glances at Joel who’s obviously trying to hold back a grin. She squeezes Ellie’s hand.

“We love you too, Ellie bean. Me, the old man, and your little sister.” Ellie’s smile brightens into a grin at that. Joel grumbles again.

“Can y’all stop calling me that? Not even that old, goddamn.” They share a laugh at his furrowed look. As they finish dinner, she can’t help but sit back and take in the sight of this strange family they’ve created. Joel and Ellie bickering about training the new horses for the spring, Libby dozing in her bassinet alongside the table. It’s something she could have never imagined, but she knows it’s perfect. It’s family.

…

“Suze said we really don’t need to be sleeping in there with her now. It’ll be ok, we’re like ten feet further away and a whole lot less cramped.” Joel seems unsure about what she says, glancing back at the crib where they just laid their sleepy girl down. She huffs, tugging on his shirt collar to pull him along across the hall to their bedroom. 

“Joel, it’s fine. She’s gonna be crying in a few hours and we’ll both end up back in there anyways. Why don’t we try to get some sleep not as a human pretzel beforehand, huh?” He sighs, but acquiesces to her coaxing, following her into the bathroom as they both start getting ready for bed.

It’s silly, but she can’t stop watching the muscles in his forearm jumping as he brushes his teeth, her thoughts going a bit fuzzy and warm. Sex has been the last thing on her mind these last few weeks, and Suze had told her that was normal with all the hormonal shifts. But with six weeks in the rearview mirror of absolutely nothing, she’s getting hot under the collar just looking at his goddamn arms. She clears her throat, gripping the edge of the sink as she looks at him through the mirror.

“You know, Suze told me something else during my check-up today.” Joel hums, wiping toothpaste off his mouth as he turns to look at her. 

“Yeah, she, uh, gave me the go ahead for the other kind of human pretzels.” She’s mortified at her horrible joke the moment it leaves her mouth, but Joel lets out a laugh, throwing his head back and crinkling his eyes shut. She huffs, the floor suddenly becoming very interesting as he tries to recompose himself. When he sees her crestfallen expression, he immediately dips down, trying to catch her gaze while stifling his laughter.

“Aw, honey, I’m sorry. Just– please– never use the phrase human pretzel again.” He can barely get the words out as he dissolves into another laugh.  She rolls her eyes, turning to walk away from him but he’s quick to pull her in until her back is snug against his chest, his arms wrapping around her as he dips his chin down onto her shoulder.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry– I’m done, I swear. So, uh, are you telling me you want to?” She scoffs, trying to get out of his hold but he just squeezes her tighter.

“Well, I did. But then somebody laughed at me.” He shushes her, pressing kisses into the side of her neck that trail up her jaw all the way to her temple.

“C’mon, mama. Don’t be like that, huh? Been missing you so bad.” She’s already melting in his grasp at the way he’s nuzzling the slope of her neck, letting his lips drag over her skin. She lets out a breathy sigh of his name and can feel the way his mouth curls into a grin.

“Now that’s more like it, darlin.” She turns in his hold, meeting him in a hard kiss. They both groan into each other’s mouths, practically devouring each other in a tangle of tongues and bumping teeth. Only coming up for quick gasps of air, they shuffle back into the bedroom, hands roaming and wandering. Joel’s quick to lose his shirt with a harsh tug of it over his head and she immediately dips to smear kisses along his chest, fingernails grazing down his front. He tucks his fingers under her chin to bring her back up for a kiss, licking into her mouth hotly. But she stills in his hold when his fingers start working at the buttons of her flannel.

“Wanna see you– been missing just looking at you.” His words are murmured hotly into her neck, so he doesn’t catch the crumpled look that’s settled over her face. 

She knows it’s stupid, but she’s been hiding from Joel over the last few weeks. It seems like her body looks a little different with each day, and while he had practically worshiped her pregnant body, this wasn’t that, and it certainly wasn’t what she looked like before. She steps back a bit, gripping his wrists to keep him from getting any further with her buttons. He looks at her with total confusion.

“What is it? What’s wrong?” She sighs, tucking her chin into her chest, too embarrassed to meet his questioning gaze.

“I just– it’s different– I’m different– don’t want you to be disappointed.” A heavy silence falls between them. She’s shocked when it’s broken by Joel laughing, quickly whipping her head up to see him looking at her like she’s gone mad. She huffs.

“I swear to god, Joel Miller, if you laugh at me one more time, I’m gonna–” he’s quick to cut her off, grabbing her hands and pulling her back towards him.

“Hey, hey, hey– I’m not laughing at you, I’m laughing at that ridiculous shit you said. I don’t wanna hear that kinda talk from you ever again, huh? You– you’re amazing. I could never be disappointed when I look at you, darlin. You wanna know why?” She glances at him, seeing that he’s grinning.

“Because, when I look at you, I see the woman who was batshit crazy enough to love me.” She snorts at that, but he’s not done.

“When I look at you, I see the woman who gave me life back. Who gave me family. You’re everything, darlin. When I look at you, I see everything.” Tears run down her cheeks as she laughs wetly at his words.

“Ellie’s right, you have gone soft.” He huffs around his grin, shaking his head as he dips down to wrap her up in a deep kiss, bringing his palms to cup her jaw as he all but takes her breath away. When he pulls away, it’s only slightly, their lips lightly brushing as he murmurs to her.

“Will you let me see you, darlin? Please?” She holds his gaze, nodding only slightly, but it’s enough to get a broad smile out of him as he lays one more kiss to her lips before letting his hands wander back down to the buttons of her shirt. 

She holds her breath the whole time, only exhaling when he slips the shirt down her shoulders. When she finally glances at his face, all she sees there is awe as he lets his fingers ghost up her hips, her sides, over the tops of her bare breasts.

“So fucking beautiful. Just wanna look at you, huh? Never wanna stop looking at you.” Before the hard blush creeps any further up her neck, she pulls him in for another kiss, her mind swimming in the feeling of bare skin pressed to bare skin. Joel starts to shuffle them back toward the bed until the backs of her knees hit the mattress and she’s splaying back with a soft “oof” as he hovers over her.

Joel’s mouth starts to wander, trailing down her neck, along her collarbone. She can’t help but preen when he laves his tongue over the swell of her breast, letting his teeth graze the sensitive skin there before doing the same to the other side. He keeps meandering lower and lower, leaving open-mouthed kisses and nips in his wake until he’s nudging his nose along the waistband of her pants. She huffs under his teasing ministrations and he looks up at her deep pout with a smug grin.

“Patience, darlin. Just trying to love on you a little, huh? Been a while.” She cards her fingers through his hair, letting out a long sigh.

“It has been a while– so quit fucking teasing already.” He snorts at that, murmuring into her skin how she’s “so bossy, goddamn” but he seems to comply with her plea, fingers working quickly to undo her pants and slide them off her legs along with her panties.

He kneels at the foot of the bed between her legs, eyes roaming over her completely bare figure, lips parted and eyes blown wide. She feels like she could melt he’s looking at her so hard. He brings his palms to her calves, dipping down to nose along the inside of one leg, trailing up and up and up until his breath is just grazing where she needs him most. But he’s gone in an instant, and she actually whines as he starts to mouth down the soft skin of her other thigh. He shushes her, his low murmuring rasp thrumming through her skin.

“So beautiful. My beautiful woman. I’ll give you what you need, darlin.” With that, he skims back to the apex of her thighs, and she shivers as he coaxes her legs over his shoulders, spreading her out for him as he lays between her thighs. No more teasing, he licks a broad stripe through her folds that makes her press her head back hard into the pillows. He works her over like a man starved, fingers flexing into the softness of her thighs as he licks into her, smearing her wetness up to her clit and laving over the nerves there. She lets her fingers drag through his hair, tugging lightly, his low groans sending jolts through her core. A ragged moan draws through her chest when he pulls away just slightly to spit on her cunt, quickly chasing the slick with his tongue and coaxing out more gasps from her.

“Fuck, Joel– feel so good, please– I need– I need–” she can’t even get it out, she’s so far gone, but he knows her well enough to understand what she wants, slipping two of his fingers inside her and finding a steady rhythm as he mouths at her clit. 

“Want you to come for me. Just like this. C’mon, darlin, lemme see you.” The combination of his words and his wide eyes gazing up at her send her falling right over the edge of pleasure. She comes with a harsh gasp of his name, fluttering around his fingers as he works her through it. 

He pulls away, shifting up the bed until he’s caging in her heaving body, stealing messy kisses tinged with the taste of her. She brings her trembling hands to the waistband of his jeans, fumbling with his belt until he gets the hint, sitting back to quickly shuck his pants down his legs. His cock is hot and stiff where it rests against the plush of her thigh, she can practically feel him throbbing. 

“Joel, need you so bad. Want you– wanna feel you–” he quiets her murmurs with another kiss before fisting himself and sliding the head of his cock through her folds, hissing at the contact. She whimpers when he starts to press into her and he immediately stills, worried eyes darting to hers. She cups his face in her palm, stroking his jaw reassuringly.

“It’s ok– just need it gentle, baby.” He hums, turning to press a kiss to the middle of her palm.

“I’ve got you, darlin. Wanna make you feel good.” He’s slow and careful as he rocks into her, laying kisses on her lips with each little gasp she lets out as he shifts deeper inside of her. When their hips finally meet, they both let out ragged sighs, and he presses his forehead to the top of her sternum, panting hard into her skin.

“Fuck, I missed you– I’m not gonna last long, darlin– feels too good– always so good for me.” She grazes her nails down his back, letting out a sigh of his name.

“Need you to move, Joel– please, baby– just wanna feel you–” he presses a kiss to the dip between her collar bones before pulling out, languidly rolling his hips back into hers in a way that has them both gasping. She crooks her leg up along his hip, spreading herself open for him to press deeper as he finds a steady rhythm of push and pull. They move well together, just like they always have, her hips canting up into his with each thrust as they swallow each other’s sighs and moans in a mess of kisses. Joel brings one of his hands down to the softness of her stomach, fingers circling her clit.

“Will you come for me, darlin? Fuck– please, honey– need to feel you.” It doesn’t take much more for her to dissolve around him, digging her nails into the sliding muscles of his back as he fucks her through it. She hisses when he pulls out, watching dazed as he strokes himself over her before painting his spend across her heaving stomach. Joel flops down beside her as they both catch their racing heartbeats. She turns her head to look at him, a grin crooking across her face.

“Still got it, huh, old man?” He huffs out a laugh, turning onto his side to draw her in for a kiss.

“Still got it, mama.”

After getting cleaned up, they may have only gotten an hour of sleep before their girl woke them both up with a cry, but it had certainly been worth it. 

[wasawattpadkid]

Housewife

Part - 9

Summery: Billy and Stu have been planning these murders for quite some time. Everything is going to plan until you show up. What happens when they meet someone who is just as mentally deluded as they are?

Pairing: poly!ghostface x fem!reader

Warnings for this series: murder, blood, smut (will be more in depth on smut chapters), power dynamics, a dash of sexism, knives, stalking, perverse behavior, cheating,

Part 1

The house was clean but it bothered you it wasn't cleaner. It had been almost a week since the murders. You didn't remember most of your time at the hospital. The doctors told you that you went into cardiac arrest due to trauma. Even your heart was over dramatic. You died for a few seconds but something somewhere decided you needed to be here. At least that's the way you liked to think of it. Friday was Sydney and Tatum's funeral. It was a hard thing to sit through especially seeing Dewy cry the way he did. There was a reason he lived through the murders, maybe it was the same one that kept you breathing.

Staying at home alone was slowly killing you and your dad saw it. In all honesty you couldn't believe he had agreed to letting Stu move in for a bit. Your dad barley let you leave the bed, scared you wouldn't heal properly. He had been taking care of you the best he could. Changing your bandages and whatnot. He had to go back to work soon and he didn't want you to be by yourself.

Stu had called you every night once he heard you left the hospital. He told you all about how his parents were back in town just to see the damage to the house. He didn't seem upset by the heartless fact but you knew it had to hurt worse than his stab wounds. Billy moved back in with his dad, that's what Stu had told you. Billy kept calling but for reasons unknown to him you never answered. Even if you did pick up the moment you heard his voice the phone would hit the receiver.

You heard a car pull in the driveway making your heart sink. Trying to convince your father to let you ride with him to pick up Stu was an impossible task. "You are not going outside with it being cold as hell. You better be glad I'm letting him come over here at all. End of discussion." It was aggravating sure but you couldn't argue with him.

"Boy who raised you?" Your dad snapped as he opened the front door. "Um no one really Sir." You dad dropped Stu's bags by the couch letting the boy walk inside. "That would explain it." Your eyes were wide hearing the hateful conversation. "What are you guys talking about?" Your dad hung his keys up on the hook leaving his coat on the rack beside the keys. "Your friend here thinks 21 Jump Street is better than Miami Vice." Stu shrugged while you bit your lip holding back a laugh and tears. The last time you saw him was at the funeral and you did get to speak to him then. "Is it alright if I give her a hug?" Stu looked at your dad then back at you.

"She's a grown woman ask her." Your dad may not act like it but he appreciated the boy's polite nature. "Can I hug you?" He held out his arms, his baggy sweater covering the wounds you knew littered his skin. "Get over here doofus." Your voice was shaky. A small wince left your lips as Stu squeezed you a little too tight. You weren't about to complain though. You were just happy he was here. Stu pulled away once your dad started talking. "I cleaned out the guest bedroom so you'll have a place to stay. Now I don't care if you two hang out in the same room but the doors in this house stay open." Stu nodded terrified of your dad.

"Understood Mr. L/n." Stu saluted and your dad just sighed. "Have you eaten yet kid?" Your friend barley remembered his middle name let alone the last time he ate. "No Sir." Mumbling under his breath your dad grabbed his coat and keys again. "I'm going to get pizza. Is he allergic to anything?" He asked pointing at Stu. "Soap maybe but that's about it." Stu poked your arm with a smile, happy you still act like your old self. Things were different no doubt but if you made it through death he was sure you two could fix whatever was broken. Your dad took off leaving the house to you two.

"21 jump street really? Man you've got a type." You joked but Stu stayed serious. "Have you talked to him?" By him he meant Billy. The last person you wanted to talk to or about. "No. We have nothing to talk about." The biggest understatement in the history of understatements. "You have plenty to talk about. You could say "Hey Billy does this look infected?" Ooh or "Billy did you ever think that haircut made you look like a ken doll?" You laughed so hard your side started to shoot pain throughout your abdomen.

Stu didn't know his own strength when it came to jokes. "Um here sit down." He grabbed your arm as his other hand rested on your lower back supporting you as you sat on the couch. "I'm fine. It does that sometimes." He looked down at you noticing the bags under your eyes and the sort of death warmed over look you were absolutely rocking. "Can I see it?" He said wanting to compare the damage. "I'll show you mine if you show me yours." You winked at him but he just stared at you with concern. Slowly you peeled up your shirt showing off the gauze. "Jesus Christ it's so bruised." He curiously touched the tip of his finger to the discolored skin.

"Ah!" You screamed scaring him. He jerked his hand away as you held your side and laughed. He felt hurt for a second before pursing his lips, finally having a laugh. "I'm glad you're lightening up." You patted the seat next to you wanting him settle down for a bit. "I've just been really worried about you. You literally died." You could hear the sadness start to crack in his voice. "Hey, only for a few seconds. I'm a drama queen at heart." Stu smiled looking at the wall rather than you.

You grabbed his hand from his lap weaving your fingers with his. "It's going to be hard but we'll make it work. We'll start all over. Just us against the world." He wanted to imagine Billy here. He'd be on the other side of you just sitting, listening to you and Stu talk. The Billy you knew wasn't the Billy Stu had lived with for the past year. Sure he could be a self righteous asshole but behind closed doors he was caring in his own way.

"How is he?" You asked breaking the silence in the room. "He's good. He's going back to school tomorrow." The school had closed for a week out of respect for the people who lost their lives. Everyone had told you to take your time to heal and grieve before going back. It was a surprise to hear Billy would want to go back immediately. "Why?" Stu thought back to the long conversations he's had with his friend every night since he left the hospital. "He said he just wants to get back into a routine. At this point we're just trying to graduate."

It was a valid point. "What are you doing after graduation?" Before, Stu would've said party. But now he truly didn't know. "I guess go to college like everybody else." You didn't know it but your little speech really did a number on him. Not to mention the brush of death he experienced. "That's no fun." You pouted. The boy just shrugged. "Helps me blend in you know? Like you said when we first met." If Stu wanted his sequel he was going to have to work for it.

Lifting up your arms you cup his face turning him to face you. "Don't think you need to change Stu Macher." Now you were just confusing him. "You changed yourself for Billy and it worked. Why can't I be who you need me to be?" His voice was once again wobbly. "Because Stu I fell in love with the real you. The one that hits on anything with a pulse with no intention of following through. The real you that secretly loves girly shit but won't admit it in fear of your friends hating you for it." His lip quivered as tears built up on his waterline.

"If it wasn't for you this whole story line would've been much different. You gave me hope that this whole thing might just work out. You're my best friend, and before you get upset thinking I've friend zoned you. Just know that I love you with all my shitty heart." It was a little soon to be saying the word "love" but after helping murder people it was probably the least dramatic thing you could say. Stu lunged forward with the intention of kissing you. Instead his forehead collided with yours. You grabbed your head falling back from the force quickly holding your side which also started to pulse with pain. "I am so sorry." Stu said trying to check your forehead. "It's okay just give me a second everything is hurting."

If Billy was here Stu knew he'd take initiative. He'd grab your face making sure you weren't hurt and would somehow magically make the pain go away. But Stu wasn't Billy so he had to think of the next best thing. "What can I do to help?" He asked as you waited for the headache to stop. "Can you get the ice pack out of the freezer?" Now that he could do. He pulled open the fridge going straight for the ice box at the bottom. He grabbed the cute little plaid ice bag from the box and shut the door. "Here you go."

"Thanks." You held the bag on top of your head for a second as the cold helped alleviate the beginning of a migraine. Stu sat back down next to you watching you close your eyes. You really were one of the most beautiful girls he's ever seen. "Okay now if you promise not to beat me up you can have that kiss now." He carefully placed his lips on yours, smiling into the kiss. Stu pulled away wanting it just to be a cute little moment. "You didn't have to stop." You said giving him a weird look for the grin on his face. "I know. It's just... you actually smell terrible and I just couldn't go on much longer." You scrunched up your nose playfully smacking his good arm. Stu was back and you were glad to have him.

Your dad finally brought home the pizza noticing someone had already set the table. "Y/n I told you not to be-" He looked at you sitting on the couch with a magazine while Stu was fixing drinks. "What do you want to drink?" Stu asked grabbing the last empty glass. "I didn't know you hired a maid Y/n." That boy was whipped and your dad knew it the moment Stu got in his car. "I didn't, he offered to help." You defended yourself and Stu backed you up.

"It's true. I just wanted to help is all." He wasn't lying but there was more to it. You weren't able to do the few things you loved to do. Having the table set and everyone's food ready was like a love language of yours. Stu was just happy to see you smile because of something he did. "I'll have tea." Your dad sat the pizza on the table as you walked over to Stu. "What do you want to drink?" Stu asked you once he sat down your dad's glass of tea. "I am perfectly capable of making my own drink." You protested but Stu was determined. "I know but I'm already up and making glasses so what would you like?"

You mumbled an answer as he filled your glass. "Thank you." He just smiled at you telling you to sit down. Once Stu sat down everyone started grabbing pieces. "What kind of music do you listen to?" Your dad asked Stu before taking a bite of his pizza. Stu swallowed the food in his mouth before he spoke. "I listen to what most people my age do. A bit of the Beastie Boys mixed with some Nirvana. Nine Inch Nails is pretty cool." Stu saw the unamused look on your dad's face. "That new Elvis record sure is groovy." Your friend's impersonation made you nearly choke on your food. Your dad even laughed which was a hard thing to get him to do.

"He sounds just like you." Your dad pointed towards you. "I do not sound like that." He raised his eyebrow as your mouth hung open. "You definitely sound like that." Stu said choosing to side with your dad rather than you. You shrugged taking a drink from your glass. Once the box was empty your dad folded it throwing it in the trash. "Thanks for dinner Mr. L/n." Stu said making your dad shake his head. "You're welcome kid." Finishing the rest of your drink you stood up not with a wince in pain. "Woah you need help?" Stu asked as he quickly stood up ignoring his own pain. "No I'm fine. I think I'm going to take a shower."

The room got quiet. Stu didn't know what all that entailed and your dad was simply waiting for Stu to make a wrong move. "Dad I'm going to need you to show him how to cover this so he can help when you go to work tomorrow." The boy next to you looked at you like you were crazy. The thought of you being half naked with him and your dad in the same room gave him the heebiejeebies. "Don't he know how to cover his own wounds?" Your dad asked thinking the whole demonstration thing seemed awkward. He didn't do awkward.

"Oh I've just been letting the stitches breath." Stu said nonchalantly. You gasped at the admission in shock. "Good God. Both of you get up stairs to her bathroom I can't believe I've gotta do this." Your dad cursed under his breath. You and Stu started up the stairs before you had a chance to scold him. "Let me see them." You went ahead and started pulling at his shirt. "Unhand me woman!" He yelled embarrassing you. He laughed as he made his way into your bathroom.

Your dad made his way into the bathroom bemused by you and Stu's thumb wrestling match. "Y/n come here." You stood with your arms up as far as you could bring them. He grabbed the hem of the shirt trying to pull it off without hurting you. By this point he had the technique down. Stu cringed just thinking about what was under the bandage. Billy had told him what you did and how you did it. When you hit that wall the blade had curved going diagonally into your skin. They said it was a wonder it didn't go out the other side.

Stu had cuts on his arm and different sized cuts all over his abdomen. Some of which broke the skin on his back. You crossed your arms over your bra concealing what was already covered. "Can you get your shirt off by yourself?" Your dad asked his parental mode on. "Um yeah." Stu said getting up off the edge of the tub and slowly peeling off his shirt. "Jesus Christ boy." You covered your mouth seeing his blood stained tank top. "What?"

"That crazy son of a bitch sure did a number on you." He said looking Stu up and down. "I don't go down easy." He laughed not truly understanding how depressing the sight was to see. "You don't have to tell me that. Do you need help taking of the wife beater?" You mentally face palmed at his words. Stu started to peel the shirt off but his skin was stuck to it. "Ow fuck!" Stu cursed forgetting about your dad in the room. "I'm so sorry."

"How long have you had that shirt on?" Stu thought about it for a second. "Since last night." He really was helpless. "Get in the tub." Your dad sighed but he couldn't be mad at Stu. You told him about his family or rather the lack there of. Stu taught himself everything he knows so he's simply doing all he knows how to do. "Excuse me?" Stu asked not sure if he heard him right. "Y/n get me a warm wet rag." Your dad practically pushed Stu into the bathtub. What Stu failed to realize was that the fabric of the tight tank top had bonded to the fresh scab each stab wound had. If he just torn it off it would rip the scabs off leaving him bleeding again with the risk of infection. If he didn't already have one by now.

"Here hold the rag on each of your cuts to soften up the scabs." Stu did as told trusting that your dad knew what he was doing. "Now let's get this done really quickly. You watching?" Stu looked over at you as you smiled down at him all scrunched up in the bathtub. Even with your dad present it was an oddly intimate moment. "Take off all the tape and gauze. Throw it away, any time we take off the bandage it goes in the trash. Even if it looks clean." Stu nodded along mentally taking notes. He looked at your stitches noticing they didn't look near as bad as his. The bruising was absolutely horrendous but the wound itself looked great.

"Clean it with warm water only. Don't use alcohol or anything like that." Stu starred blankly regretting his previous actions. "If you did don't worry, I'm surprised you tried to clean it at all." You wanted to tell your dad to be nicer but you honestly agreed with him. He took a different wet rag wiping your side gently. "That doesn't hurt?" Stu asked worried about you. "Actually it's not that bad after awhile. It's mainly when I raise my arm to take of my shirt that it pulls the skin and hurts."

"After it's clean put some Neosporin on it and you cover it back up. Since she is taking a shower though I'll have to tape a piece of plastic over the bandages. Make sense?" It made sense but Stu knew he'd forget most of it. "How will I take a shower?" He asked your dad. The boy had been living without bandages since the hospital. He didn't know you needed to do all this extra work and his parents sure didn't ask if he needed help. "Honestly I think you'll just have to get a wash cloth and wash off for the next couple of days."

You saw the discouraged look on Stu's face. He was almost too cute to be a murderer. "Don't worry. We got each other's backs right?" You asked him dragging him from thought. "Of course." You and your dad slowly started peeling Stu's tank top off. You apologized every time he winced or cursed in pain. "Well now you'll learn not to do that again." Your dad said as he threw the ruined shirt in the garbage. The wounds on his pale skin were an angry red meaning he was probably starting to get an infection. Your dad helped clean each wound and after awhile everyone was making jokes.

He placed the last piece of medical tape down making sure he got all of the wounds. "That's the last of them I think. Now let's go get you a shirt on and let her take a shower." Stu slowly got out of the bathtub taking his sweater out of the bathroom with him. Your dad was just about to walk out before you hugged him. "Thank you. You don't know how much this means to me." He was starting to understand why you needed that boy over. "You'd be surprised." Your dad said as he left the room.

The shower was quick and careful. Making sure to avoid the new bandages at all cost. Once you got out and dried off you peeled the plastic layer off of your side, throwing it in the trashcan. You opened up your closet deciding to put on a robe because you struggled with shirts. You walked down stairs to tell everyone good night when you saw both Stu and your dad passed out on the couch. Your friend was curled up with his head on the chair arm, using it as a makeshift pillow. While your dad sat with his arms crossed and head back. You walked towards the TV set turning it off with a click.

"I was listening to that." Your dad mumbled. "Yeah I bet. Go to bed you've got work tomorrow and Stu. Stu?" You called his name slowly shaking him awake. His eyes were wide with confusion. That nap must have been deep. "Hey hun I'm going to bed. Your bed is already made up and everything." Stu barley understood a word you said. "I'll make sure he gets to bed and stays in it. Goodnight sweetheart." Your dad said as he kissed your forehead. You just smiled. "Night dad, love you." You said as he returned it. "Love you too."

Part 10

Taglist: @katie-tibo @agustdeeyaa @bowlofceral @gonnapermashift @tati-the-fangirl @kozumewhore @tatijoestar @illyanam1011 @c4rved-pumpk1n @msghostface @gojosbucket @sammanna @lokigirlszendaya @reneki @fetusharryluvr @kadu-5607 @pumpk1n-writes @lovekeeho @tojisblood @zeysartzone @bluedevilss @life-of-music3 @flyestvenustrap @littleblondesoprano @imobsessedreader @loomiscorpse @nicciekawegosblog @reneemunson @miss-puregotti @ksgsfsgaj @zoleea-exultant @briefwinnerpersonaturtle @mistydreamscape @l4venderia @nex-crowley @ashreblogsnow @brynaa223 @your-desire666 @billyloomiswhore4 @holyladyofsorrows @megluv1 @ellieswifeiya @yoluvrz @forallthstarsinthesky @madsothree

(if your name has a line through it Tumblr wouldn't let me tag you)

[allfryam]

mama’s boy

Bobby was an all star athlete at his high school. It was his senior year and he was captain of the football team. His perfect curly hair complemented his perfect face. And his perfect face just made his perfect body look even better. He was lean, with chiseled abs and toned muscles. He was perfect in every way. Nothing could ever change that.

one day at football practice, Bobby was d doing drills when one of his teammates tackled him from behind and landed on his foot. With a loud crunch, Bobby yelled as he looked down to see his leg was going in the wrong direction. He was rushed to the hospital and quickly X-rayed. “It’s a nasty break. Will definitely take at least 3-4 months to completely heal.” The doctor said. Bobby felt like his entire world just collapsed. “I don’t want you to do any physical activity for the next 3 months. That includes walking! I will have your teachers send you your work online so you can do it from home.” He said. Bobby’s mom nodded and drove him home.

Bobby laid in bed staring at his ceiling. His leg was resting on some pillows to give it elevation. “Can I get you anything sweetie?” Bobby’s mom asked. “Pizza. I’m starving”. He said. “Sure sweetie.” She said as she began to call dominos.

over the next few days. Bobby fell into a rhythm. He didn’t bother getting dressed anymore, so he laid in his underwear most days. He just laid there and watched movies or played on his computer. There was a small upside to this though. Bobby discovered his mom felt bad and would bring him anything he asked for. Whenever Bobby was hungry or thirsty, he would just say the magic word… “MOOOOOM” and she would rush in and ask him what he needed. She normally didn’t like him eating too much junk food, but under the circumstances, she let him eat anything. This didn’t come without consequences however.

after a couple weeks, Bobby’s mom had noticed something. When looking at Bobby’s stomach she had noticed his abs begin to slowly disappear. There was a bit of pudge growing on his midsection. “Sweetheart, maybe you should try to eat just a little bit healthier.” She said one day. “Mom! Are you calling me fat?! You are such an asshole! Bring me some donuts!” Bobby snapped back. Scared, Bobby’s mom ran off to pick up some donuts. Bobby looked down at his pudgy belly. He squeezed it and shook it a little. It jiggled. Hmm. Must just be a little water weight. He would work it off when he could play football again. Later he ate every last one of the dozen donuts his mom brought home.

after 3 months was up, Bobby was fatter than ever. His bit of pudge had grown into a ball hit that sat happily on top of him. A bit of fuzz had grown on his belly and his belly button had become deep. Bobby hardly noticed. After examining his leg, the doctor determined Bobby was ready to get back onto the football field. Bobby was ecstatic. His first day back at practice. All of his teammates slapped and grabbed Bobby’s gut. “Dude. How did you get so fat?” “That no exercise thing really took its toll on you huh?” “What’s up pudgy!” Bobby shrugged it off and tried to put on his jersey. He struggled with it for a minute until finally getting it the cover his gut. His tight pants hugged his thighs that were significantly bigger than the last time he wore them.

practice was awful. Bobby was slow, out of breath, and his stomach was in the way of everything. He laid in bed and called for his mom. “Mom bring me a pizza” he said. “Gut up and get it yourself.” She replied. “ your leg isn’t broken anymore.” Bobby huffed and waddled to the phone to buy a pizza. The next day at practice, Bobby had an idea. “Jake! Tackle me. Hard.” Bobby said. “You sure? I don’t want you gettin hurt again.” Jake said. “I’m fine. Just do it” Jake ran full speed and leaped onto Bobby. With another crunch, Bobby was back in bed with a broken leg. He smiled as he downed a cheeseburger in two bites.

[cyborg-franky]

I read that you don’t do stories with kids. But I was just wondering if you do one if they were just turned into a child. Like Toshi Toshi no Mi has the power to alter the ages of people. Example “Like if WB or Marco was turned into a child but they were still adults on the inside and how the crew would react.” It’s fine if it’s a no I just wanted to ask. Thank you.

Oooh these are fun. I can have a good time with these : D

Marco

He’d been around longer than most of the crew so seeing a tiny little pineapple with fluffy hair and wide-open eyes caused many different reactions.

Ace can’t stop laughing at how silly he looks and how high-pitched his yoi’s come out. His clothes are so big and baggy on him like he’d stolen from a much bigger person.

Thatch can’t stop laughing either and just calls him little guy and baby bird alot which causes Marco to huff and stomp around the deck irritated.

Pop’s thinks it’s cute, he remembers when Marco was a young boy. Izou met Marco when they were both young so it doesn’t really phase him.

Everyone is either shocked or highly amused at him.

However, Marco is still the ships doctor and must carry on his duties until the effects wear off.

It’s surreal seeing Marco needing a pile of cushions to sit at his desk. It’s an incredibly bizarre scenario to have to talk to someone who looks like a child about medical issues.

Marco doesn’t like being in this form and his normally cool and calm attitude is challenged with some of the crews reactions.

The nurses adore him though.

Kid

Well, his arms back at least? Everyone just stares at this small spikey-haired kid whos screaming and yelling at the top of his lungs, already pissed off that everyone is gawking at him.

“What are you fuckin’ idiots lookin’ at?” He snaps, stamping his feet on the deck, hands on his hips as he narrows his eyes. It looks so silly seeing his enraged brat in an oversized coat as he starts to throw punches at the legs of his crew.

Killer feels his small fists against his leg, sighs, and just picks him up. Letting Kid get a piggyback ride because he likes to be up high. 

Kid is furious about the change and even uses his skills with metalwork to make himself big shoes to walk in, hating feeling so emasculated. 

He’s still loud as all hell and his crew is smart enough to hide laughter and amusement behind their hands.

“If any of you tell that shitty doctor or straw hat about this, it’ll be the last thing you do,” though it was hard to take a threat from a 6-year-old very seriously.

Zoro

He couldn’t give a fuck if he was turned into a kid, he knew it would wear off in time so he just shrugged his shoulders. 

Until Sanji said something, going for the kill [and by kill I mean he smacks at Sanji’s ankles or bites his legs] 

Everyone either sighed, laughing, or just stood in pure bewilderment at Sanji screaming and shaking his leg as hard as he could while a small Zoro held onto his leg by his teeth for dear life.

Nami is the second biggest problem to Zoro’s current predicament though. Every time he tries to drink booze she slaps it off the table or out of his hand [typical orange cat behavior] and starts to wave her finger in his face telling him he’s too young to drink.

Luffy tries to play with Zoro like he’s actually a kid, swinging him around and yelling happily.

Buggy

Ever seen a grown man have a total breakdown? I mean, if you know Buggy that’s probably daily.

He’s small and he’s flapping his arms and screaming but everyone is just crouched down and looking at their beloved captain in complete awe. He’s so adorable, everyone who tries to pick him up either gets a foot or a fist square in their face as he hisses and curses.

Galdino and Alvida sigh, they look like single moms who just got back from the school run as they drag Buggy away from everyone. They already felt like a babysitter and they didn't need it to be literally.

All his crew are completely besotted with how adorable their captain looks as a kid. Buggy half loves the attention and half wishes everyone would take a long walk off a short plank. 

It’s not like people take him super seriously anyway but he didn’t need to have people trying to pinch his cheeks.

If Shanks finds out about this Buggy will never hear the end of it. Maybe Alvida snuck a few photos for some blackmail at a later date when Buggy was being his unreasonable self.

[muddyorbsblr]

you deserve better

See my full list of works here!

Summary: When all the plans you'd made for today go down the drain, the last person you expected shows up at your door to try turning the night around

Pairing: James Conrad x Reader

Word Count: 2.1k

Warnings: angst; language; craptastic friends [let me know if i missed anything!]

Things to be aware of: simp Conrad, that is all 🫠

"Fucking dammit!"

You gripped your phone tightly in your hand, resisting the urge to chuck it into the sea right where the ship's rotor blade was located. Tears burned behind your eyes as every message you'd missed in the last week while you were on this research trip with Monarch trickled in at a steady pace now that you and the rest of the crew had signal again.

Where your fellow scientists were calling up loved ones on FaceTime with bright smiles on their faces and assurances that they were on their way back home, you had an influx of messages from your friends telling you that no, they wouldn't be making your birthday dinner tonight after all.

"Doctor Y/L/N?"

Oh fuck not him, doesn't he have a pool bar to get to so he can snap his fingers and get tonight's lay? you snidely thought to yourself, steeling your stance at the sound of former Captain James Conrad's voice. Taking a deep breath, you turned to face him. "What's up, Conrad? Looking to split an Uber and Brooks doesn't wanna--"

"Are you alright?"

His question felt like a shock to your system, making you blink your eyes repeatedly as if you were trying to get your bearings back. "Of course," you lied through your teeth. "Why wouldn't I be?"

"Well…" he trailed off, motioning toward your hand. "You're gripping your mobile so hard your knuckles are turning white, for one."

You glanced at your hand, sighing when you saw your skin stretched taut over bone and trying to relax your grip somewhat. "Fine," you gritted out. "If you really wanna know, it's my birthday today. I had plans to spend tonight with my friends once I'd unpacked and washed that goddamned island off of my skin. But some people in that group can't seem to let petty high school shit go, and today when we finally got signal again I got a metric fuckton of messages from one of said friends calling me either a bad friend or a dumbass for extending an invitation to my friends because it's inconvenient for her, which then led to a domino effect of if she's not going then I'm not going and now…" you trailed off, chuckling sardonically to yourself. "Now no one's going."

Something akin to pity crossed the tracker's eyes, making you look away. The last thing you needed right now was the most jaw-droppingly unfairly handsome man on the face of God's green earth to look at you like a sad wet little puppy left out on the side of the road.

"Anyways I'm off," you said a little too chipper it even made you cringe a little inside. "Got a date with a pizza box, fridge full of wine, and my Netflix account. 'Till the next one, Conrad."

Before he could say anything else, you were already walking to your Uber that just pulled up, finally letting yourself let go of all the hot air you were running on and quite aptly feeling deflated. When you were finally far enough from the port that Conrad wasn't even a speck in your line of sight, you felt the tears start to roll down your cheeks.

You felt exponentially worse when you got home, most of the food that you'd placed an order for before you left on the trip to be delivered today already waiting on your porch.

"Fucking dammit," you repeated, albeit this time with a whimper rather than a roar. You propped your door open and started bringing the food in, deciding to set aside a couple of days worth of meals for yourself and then giving the rest to a nearby food bank so that it would at least do some good.

It took a few hours but you were finally perched on your couch, wearing a comfy pajama short set, Kate & Leopold playing on your TV, and tucking straight into a tub of mudslide ice cream just letting the night pass. This definitely wasn't how you pictured spending your 30th birthday, but you strived to remember that there could have been worse ways to spend tonight.

You could've been mediating between spatting friends because they couldn't manage to keep civil for one night, or you could've been on the receiving end of Deena's tirade about "how duplicitous you were to drag her into a gathering with Shana". The island would've been a better alternative than dealing with that all night.

About 30 minutes into the movie you heard a knock on your door, causing you jump in your seat. "I didn't order anything!" you hollered toward your front door, wincing at the pins and needles starting to prickle at your feet and lower legs from the motion.

Whoever was outside knocked again, this time a bit more persistent with the sound booming across the living room. Your visitor, whoever it may be, wasn't here by mistake, and they weren't about to be waved off with a simple 'go away I'm pissy'.

"I told you, buddy, I didn't order any--" Your words stopped short on the tip of your tongue as you saw nothing but broad shoulders clad in a familiar tight and worn blue t-shirt stretched tight over well-defined pectorals, only this time with an off-the-rack casual blazer draped over it. Your eyes slowly traveled upward to meet the oceanic blue eyes that quite frankly you constantly tried and failed not to dream about whenever you drifted off to sleep at night. "Conrad…" you said his name slowly, as if every part of your brain was fighting against accepting the reality that he was here now, looking like the human embodiment of Lust on ridiculously long legs. "What're you doing here?"

There were quite a few thoughts that crossed your mind in the last few hours, scenarios that you'd conjured up on how the rest of the night would go, each of them dwindling in their respective probability as the hours ticked on. Former SAS Tracker James Conrad being at your door, however, was definitively not among those scenarios.

"Erm…I thought I would come over to check on you. You were visibly…understandably…upset when we parted ways at the pier," he answered, shifting his weight to one leg as if trying to make it all sound so casual. He looked over at how you were dressed, from the haphazard ponytail down to the fuzzy monster slippers covering your feet, and resumed his stance that you'd grown accustomed to with the squared shoulders and the ramrod straight back as if he was back on training grounds. "Get dressed, Y/L/N."

You jerked your head backwards, surprise and confusion flooding your system at the soft spoken order. "Why?"

"I'm taking you out for dinner," he stated plainly. "I know you had plans for tonight and they didn't pan out the way you intended. No one should such an important day alone unless they really want to."

"Conrad, please. I'm fine, everything's fine. You don't have to check in on me or take me out to dinner or keep me company out of--I don't even know, pity? You have your own thing and I don't wanna keep you from it or the hordes of women who would probably abandon all common human decency and trample over each other to get that blazer off of you." You finished your little lament with a wave toward the garment, already stepping back like you were about to send him off to better and more interesting company.

When he sensed what you were about to do, he reached out, putting your hand in a delicate hold. "The night has barely begun, and you're in pajamas, eating ice cream, and one of your comfort movies is playing on the screen." He motioned his head towards your TV, where Hugh Jackman and Meg Ryan were currently paused mid-waltz on a New York rooftop. He brought his hand up to cup your face, swiping his thumb over the corner of your mouth before softly saying, "This isn't fine. And I know that I'm not the company you expected or perhaps even prefer. I just--I wanted to come here tonight and just let you know…that I'm here. So…you could join me for dinner or alternatively I could join you here and you can talk my ear off with your movie commentary. The point is that you won't be spending your birthday alone."

His words left you stunned to near silence. "I uhm--I'll go get dressed then." You stepped back from his hold, an irrational part of you already missing his touch, awkwardly waving toward the sitting area. "I'll be out in a few minutes."

Once you'd started to make your way up the stairs, Conrad made his way to the living area of your house, a smile making its way to his face as he looked at the framed pictures you had on your shelves, your dimpled toothy grin on full display. "Oh, Y/N," he breathed your name almost reverently in the silence. "How the hell am I going to move on from you now?"

Earlier today when you'd all disembarked off the ship, he had plans to wash up and head off to a bar to look for someone to keep him company for the night, perhaps until Monday when you were all expected to return to Monarch for briefing on your next mission. All he wanted was to find someone who held even the faintest resemblance to you and lose himself in the chimera that you were the one he was with, that he held you in his arms as he woke up that next morning, and with that indulgence to tide him over for some time, perhaps he could maintain the professional, nearly friendly, relationship that he had with you without running the risk of putting that in jeopardy all because he couldn't keep his affections in check.

Those plans all went down the drain when he saw how you were fighting back tears explaining how your plans for tonight had gone off the rails. When his choices for how to spend the night were spending a few empty hours with someone he would meticulously compare to you or making sure that your birthday wasn't going to be spent alone and licking wounds that should never have been dealt to you in the first place, there was no choice to make.

Tonight's objective was simply to wipe the frown away from your perfectly enchanting face, perhaps even get you to smile. And maybe somewhere along the way finally get you to see him as someone more than just your colleague. Someone that cared. A friend, if he was really going to push it.

And maybe if he was going to entertain the moon shot that played in his most self-indulgent daydreams…a lover.

The sound of you clearing your throat brought him out of his thoughts, the sight of you in your simple pale blue dress with a slight teasing cutout by your waist stealing every bit of his breath away. "Too much?" you asked him, your tone shaky.

"Not at all," he croaked out, clearing his throat before speaking again. "You uhm…you look--You're beautiful." The tiniest smile played at your lips as you motioned for him to follow you to the door. "You always are," he murmured under his breath.

"What was that?" you called out absentmindedly, still steadily making your way to the front door.

"N-Nothing," he stammered. "I was just…admiring your home. It's lovely."

"It's too damn big is what it is," you scoffed as he passed you at the threshold before locking the door. "That's what I get for being perpetually alone, I guess. Just my luck that every guy I ever even tried to date fully expects me to hang up my coat and give up my research so I can play housewife." Your eyes misted over again as the next words came out. "Not a single soul on God's green earth that could deal with that." You turned the key with a little more force than necessary, the lock clicking into place with a resounding knock.

When the two of you made your way to his car, he opened the door for you, your disbelief at the gesture evident in your eyes. And when he was sure that you wouldn't be able to hear him through the car's closed door, he whispered to himself, "I could deal with that. If it meant that you were mine, I could deal with anything."

A/N: Happy happy birthday @liminalpebble!! I hope this puts a smile on your face today and that you have a spectacular year ahead of you, bestie 🥹🥹 Many many hugs from me and Grassy the Mango (even though the bub hasn't arrived yet but it will…today. I think…)

everything taglist: @simplyholl @loopsisloops @unlucky-number-13 @imalovernotahater @coldnique @loz-3 @huntress-artemiss @salempoe @vickie5446 @athalialaufeyson @lokiprompts @kats72 @kikster606 @evelyn-kingsley @lokixryss @thomase1 @mischief2sarawr @peaches1958 @lovingchoices14 @lunarnights95 @goblingirlsarah @iamlokisgloriouspurpose @creationsbyme @maple-seed @mjsthrillernp @ladyofthestayingpower @mygfloki @sititran @glitterylokislut @ozymdias @fictive-sl0th @lovelysizzlingbluebird @lokidbadguy @mochie85 @silverfire475 @joyful-enchantress @elizabethmidnight2017 @holdmytesseract @lokidokieokie @lunarnights95 @superficialdomina @gigglingtiggerv2

[honestsilasbirchtree]

June 15, 1952

The waffle house had been nameless for the entire eight years it had been in operation so far. Lizzie Dixon, 22, had been working there for three of those years. She could now begin preparing orders based on the sound of the cars pulling up and the tops of hats and hairdos that she could see through the blinds.

All of her lunchtime regulars were currently in, the dishwasher was out for a "smoke" again, and absolutely nothing was going to surprise her. She thought about dropping a milkshake glass for the hell of it.

"The back of that greasy kid's head looks like it could use some sparkle! Why don't you give it a hurl!"

Lizzie jumped at the sudden loud voice by her ear and dropped the glass, just missing her foot. The shards scattered. "Oh-! Oh no, no..." The dishwasher, finally back behind the counter, turned around at the sound. "Whoa, Lizzie, what happened?"

"Where have you been?" Lizzie snapped. "Don't just-- careful stepping through, oh, come on, get a broom or something, I have to take this gentleman's order--" She turned back to find herself face to face with a pale stranger in a suit and hat.

"Shucks, you missed!" he continued. "Better luck next time, huh?"

Lizzie allowed herself a smirk at that. "I might like that, but I like working here more, I'm afraid."

"Oh, you do?" said the stranger. His voice seemed strangely loud and shrill no matter what volume he was speaking at. "I see, got to comfort yourself somehow after your big audition flopped. Don't worry, that whole rodeo will fold a year from now anyway! BIG shooting malfunction! You're better off out of the, haha, line of fire! Trust me!"

Lizzie's eyes flicked over to the ad taking up most of the far wall at the end of counter--a flirtatious blonde cowgirl, SLUGGER COFFEE, 'Start Your Day Like a Shot!' She really hoped he was talking about cameras. "...I'm sorry, who are you?"

"Silas Birchtree, travelling salesman and so much more!" he doffed his hat. (For a moment, she heard some kind of buzzing.) She could see his eyes better now, wide and avid to a near painful looking degree, just like his smile. "Now, Lizzie, can I just say--"

"Hey!" A redheaded young man wearing a blazer in an unfortunate color took a seat at the bar. "Is this fella bothering you, Liz?"

"She hasn't been interested since you called her "Lizard" the first day of junior high, Chris!" the newcomer shot back. Heads all through the establishment were turning. "Take your comedy act somewhere else! I'd suggest the middle of the road, but if this one horse town ever gets anything resembling actual traffic, I'll eat that horse myself!"

Lizzie wanted to sink into the floor. Chris flushed red and balled up his hands. "Why don't you get bent, you creep! Who d'you think y--"

"Hey, ain't you supposed to be dead?" an old farmer at the other end of the counter called out. "We had a burial and everything, I saw." This set the gathering crowd murmuring.

Birchtree flashed a megawatt grin his way. "Normal human man, right here!" He thumped his chest hard. "Aren't you supposed to be cutting back on the drink, Ray? Then again, the doctor has bills to pay, too! Wanna bet you can help finance his new car?"

Ray's brow furrowed. "Say, how'd you know all that? What new car?"

"An excellent question! My unearthly knowledge comes from above!" Birchtree threw his arms wide, shouting to the whole restaurant. "An all-knowing entity of awesome power has chosen me to be his herald! He's seen your mistakes! He watches your dreams! He foresees the terrible way that you will die, yes, each and every one of you!" Now he was standing on the counter, with a sea of open-mouthed faces around him. "All of these secrets and more I will share with you rubes, if! You! Follow me outside!"

He stepped down from the counter and strode out the door, a throng following him out and down the street to Orchard Lake's central square. Lizzie let herself out from behind the counter to join them, still trailing broken glass underfoot.

"Hey, where are you going?" the dishwasher shouted after her. "Hey! Lizzie! What are you doing? Come back!"

[icarusredwings]

The Library. Pt 1.

The TARDIS disobeys her owner... again. Shocker. This time, though.. she takes him and Donna somewhere they REALLY don't want to be. Dinner can wait. There's someone here that needs him more.

A 14/River (RetiredSong) fic following my Retired Time Lords series. Oh and Donnas forced to be here too..

Standing at the front entrance, the doctor felt his hearts shaking in his chest, pounding so hard that it felt as if they were beating against his ribcage. Everything within him was telling him to run away. To go home. Run. For gods sake run. But he couldn't. His knees were too much like jello. All he could do was stare, frozen in place as multiple people walked around them, heading to read whatever book they could imagine.

Swallowing, he looked at the floor, eyes searching the tile for any sign or clues that might jump out of him. Turning his head, he saw that they each only had one individual shadow, licking his lips as he glanced up at Donna, who was crossing her arms (like always).

"Wot?"

"You're counting.."

"How do you know?"

"Well it's either that or you're intrested in the new shoes I got."

Donna's doctor snorted, shaking his head. He's been caught.

"They're nice. I'll give you that.."

"So-"

"Ssoo..... what?"

"This is the library."

He nodded, putting his hands in his pockets as he rocked on his heels like a child about to admit something to their parents and was extremly nervous about it. "Yu-puh."

"Like.. The Library"

"Uh-huh..."

"....Riv-"

"Nmhm..Don't."

"Okay.... Doctor?"

"Yeah?" Having not paying attention, it was like his attention snapped back to reality, thinking far too hard about something else.

"Why did the TARDIS bring us here?"

"I don't know.. shes funny like that I guess.."

Donna scoffed and rolled her eyes. "Funny??"

"Ereuugh. Yeh..." He shrugs, his voice becoming higher and softer in the end.

"... did you get a note on your paper?"

"No.. not this time. I just... I think she.."

Despite the lack of words, the way his wide eyes stared at the entrance, longing, waiting for someone to come through those doors that he knew oh so well..? Donna knew why they were here.

"Are you... okay?"

"Me? Oh yeah- Im okay. Thats me. Always okay."

"Time lord okay or human okay?"

"Mmmh.... the first one."

"....right. Sooo you're panicking."

"Yea..."

"Well... Brianna did say that you should face your fears more often and stop running from them...? Maybe the TARDIS is helping you."

The look that Donna received could kill a man on sight. Luckily, she wasn't a man. She only raised a brow at him, and instantly, his attitude changed, shaking his head and sighing. Putting his hands up, he turned around, trying to push the TARDIS doors open, but they were locked.

"Hey! Excuse me. I kinda live here."

"Not anymore." Donna muttered.

"Well, I have the keys still, so that means Im still allowed in. Hello??" By now, he became almost desperate, beginning to rub the side of the big blue box, whispering. "Ooh, come on old girl, you used to be such a sweet thing... don't do this to me.. please... Are you cross with me?"

Honestly, she should be used to this by now, but the redhead coughed a bit. "Should I leave you two alone?"

"Don't litsen to her. She's a mad woman. What if I leave her here hm? Would you like that?" He asked the box, patting it with a smirk.

Earning himself a slap in the arm, he was quick to flinch and chuckle as he rubbed the spot, pouting. "Ooww!"

"Oh shut it! Now you figure out why we're here! And quick! This place gives me the heebie jeebies.." she mumbled, hugging herself tight. She still had nightmares of this place. Of the children she lost but never actually had... quick milisecind thoughts of Lee. A man who wasn't even real. (As far as she knew)

"Hey, I don't know what her deal is either! You saw me tell her to go to Waksacarnus and she brought us here!"

"Oh great. Yeah, the time machine took us to the most terrifying library in the universe instead of the intersteller grocery store... how ironic.. Were you thinking of this place?"

Just then, The Doctor went silent, looking at her with eyes as if she had figured it out before him and now he was a wee jealous and embarrassed. "Nope! Not at all, definitely not!"

"What were you thinking about then!?"

"Blood beets!"

"You were thinking about blood beets? And magically YOUR telepathic ship brought us to the death library?"

"Well it's not anymore..." He looked around as if to be sure, seeing people smiling and carrying books to read. "Just seems like a normal library now..."

"Except this library has something no other library has..."

Cocking a fluffy brow he glanced at her, putting his arms up. "Well, no, duh, this is THE library! It has every copy of every book ever written!"

She gave him another look. Silent and staring with a glint of pitty in her eyes, pursing her lips and let her arms fall to her sides.

"... oh... Donna i-.. It's been so long I don't- w-What would I even say?"

"Everything."

"I.. i-cant I..." he looked at his hand, swallowing. "Donna I'm.."

He was married now. Well- he was always married. But he REmarried. He had left her here all alone and went off to be REmarried. His chest hurt just thinking about is actions, regretting them horribly, but the idea of stepping into this library? That was a worse feeling. One that made him want to call his other self to come pick him up and scold his own TARDIS for disobeying him for the millionth time. If he couldn't even trust his own TARDIS... who could he trust? And she knew. OH she knew how deeply this hurt him. The thought alone of his beloved box betraying him made him want to have a nervous break down right here, right now, infront of everyone.

"Yeah. To her. And about 7 others. So get along. You'd probably marry that thing too if you could."

"Huh?" He asked, still staring at the ground when asked, now looking up to her, baffled.

It was now Donna realized just how much this was fucking with him. Note to self. At the Library? Phycologically? The Doctor was screwed. He would have picked up on this tease any other day, and yet? Not a word. Just those eyes that said, "Im terrified because I can't save us." The eyes that she knew all too well. The eyes that he's also given her so many times before. And yet? Every time he succeeded in saving them. (More or less)

She decided it was time for plan B. This always worked on his younger self, maybe it still would.

"Alright. Guess you're just a featherless chicken then." She muttered, making an effort to check her nails and not look at those puppy eyes or else her persona would break.

"Wot? Feather.. less?" He made a whining noise as he suddenly realized that once again, without his fancy toys, he was useless. "Ooh... This is just like that maze all over again!"

"Which one?"

"Donna!!"

"Right. Sorry... erm...." Okay, that backfired.

"Should I call er... the other you?"

For a split second, he was about to say yes, before realizing that meant he would probably want to see River too and knowing him and her, they'd hit it off a little too well. He grunted, pouting almost, coming to the realization that he had to go see her. It's all he wanted right now.

"No."

But it felt so... wrong? Going to the love of your (multiple) lives and reconnecting with them after you told your husband just 10 minutes ago that you'd be back in time to watch The Great British Bake Off with him when you were supposed to be infact going to the store just to pick up some stuff for dinner felt so wrong.

"Yes??"

And yet.. his eyes kept shifting to the entrance, the bones in his body wanting to rush down to the basement and see if there was any smidge chance that he could at least talk to her.

"Ugh! I don't know!? What do I do?! Donna!" He whined again, his hands going to his hair and then rubbing his face, beginning to pace the way he usually did before having an inconvenient criss.

"You got yourself into this mess." She giggled. "Stop being such a 'pretty boy' and you wouldn't have to worry about everyone wanting to marry you."

"You think im pretty?" He pulled his hands away from his face, looking at her with excitment. He liked compliments. They fed his ego.

"Far from it, mate."

"Ooh!" He grunted again, grumbling some things."

"Come on, it's not that big of a deal. She's just a computer. I doubt he'll get mad about that."

This, for some reason, upset him greatly. She wasn't JUST a computer. She was IN a computer. There's a difference.

"Tch. Like you're one to talk. What's shaun going to think when you tell him you've visited the same place you met Lee, Hm? I doubt he'll get mad about that." This ending tone was mocking.

"Oi!! Just because your marriage is rocky doesn't mean that mine is!"

"So you're going to tell him?"

Her eyes softened as she thought of how she'd even begin to explain it. So many adventures with the Doctor where 'you had to be there to understand' moments and reciting them to others felt like a fairy tale..

"I... Yes! I-i am! And for your information, YOUR TARDIS brought us here to see YOUR wife. I had nothing to do with this! Besides!...He wasn't even in the system.. remember? Just a guy that I.. i dont know.. dreamed up?"

The tension between them was slit, cut, and a chunk removed. His head lowered, his eyes softened, and his brows looked the way a child might if admitting a mistake to a parent.

"Im sorry.."

"Yeah yeah.." She waved it off, taking a breath.

"No.. Donna." He takes her hand, pulling her close as he kisses it. His signature 'i really fucked up' apology. "I really am sorry... I just.."

"I know.."

"You don't. You really.. really don't. I promise that you don't." He mumbled. "I dont think there's anything in the universe I could do to make up for how much I've hurt you. I made a promise to make up for it.. and here I am. Doing it again. For what?"

She shook her head, putting it on his shoulder, resting into the hug. "..you're hurt too."

Pulling her away, he held her face and looked her in the eyes. "That doesn't give me an excuse to hurt you back. Never. I promised Shaun I'd look after you. I told him im the one that needs looking after, and he said I know. We have to look after each other, alright? So don't let me do that. That's... That's not who I am anymore. That's not who I want to be." He whispered to her as she nodded.

"Excuse me?"

The two jumped, separating and became defensive only to realize it was just a worker. At least thats what you could assume by the girls big glasses and the fact that it said "Librarian" on her shirt.

"Sir, you and your wife have to move that.. what is that?"

"Oh were not-"

"Pfft! Not a million years!"

"Yeh.. what she said. Anywho. That's a Police box. Otherwise known as my TARDIS. And unfortunately I can't move her. She's being stubborn!" He said this part extra loud, turning to glare at the box who did absolutely nothing.

"Sir, its blocking traffic and by Library saftey policy no large objects are allowed to block the path."

"Right... well.. as I just said, I can't. It's not like I want to be here in the first place.."

"Say doc... do you still have HADS on?"

His eyes brightened as he looked to the redhead with borderline mania. "Oh!! Yes! Donna you're a genuis!"

"Damn right.... wait.. why?"

Again, she spoke up. "Sir, this is your final warning. Please move your vehicle from out of the walkway. It's a safety hazard!"

"Oh wait- If HADS is on.. and shes not leaving.. that means she doesn't sense any threats. Still though you'd think from the last time she wouldn't want to come back.."

"But you had the HADS off back then."

The shorter Liberian blinked, cupping her hands together as she litsened, kind of annoyed that they were ignoring her. Bringing out a digital pad, she clicked a few buttons, and suddenly, with a bright light, some clicky sounds, and a WOOSH, the TARDIS was sent up to the moon, saved into the Libraries file.

"OI!! You can't just take that!! She's sensitive!"

"Bring her back right now! You dont want to upset him, I promise you that, let alone me!"

"Until you can move your vehicle, it's been safely removed and downloaded to the library. See the front desk to retrieve it. Have a good visit!" Handing him a ticket, she walked away.

"Oh I outta!-" The Doctor grabbed her shoulder.

"Donna.."

"That miffy little elf thing has it coming!"

"Donna...."

"Wha-" Turning, her jaw dropped just as his, staring at the beautiful white goddess infront of them.

"Is that-!?"

"River.."

[acewritesfics]

More Than Enough | Eddie Munson

Pairing: Eddie Munson x Reader

Request: From Anon

Warnings: Angst, fluff, Eddie being hard on himself, teen pregnancy, mentions of readers mom being a horrible person. Swearing. 

Word Count: 1,390

Stranger Things Masterlist | Main Masterlist

1984 - the first year Eddie was meant to graduate.  

“Eddie?” Y/N calls out to her boyfriend as she enters the trailer, she now lives in with him and his uncle.   

She hears him respond, “In our room,” and moves in that direction to find Eddie. His long, curly hair was pushed back and held in place by one of her scrunchies as he sat on their bed with his back to the wall and an open textbook on his lap. His tongue stuck out, like it always does when he is concentrating on something, and his brows furrowed into a grimace. His doe-brown eyes quickly skimmed the pages while the pencil in his ring-adorned hand tapped repeatedly against the book. She could feel the frustration rolling off his body.  

The young couple had a difficult two weeks, especially Eddie. They learned that she was pregnant. After spending a week throwing up and being unable to hold anything down, her mother had taken her to the doctor. Even when they were high, the two were usually cautious when having sex, so this came as a surprise. It soon came out that the condoms they were using were ineffective. Everyone was notified about it through an article in the newspaper.  

As soon as they got home, her mother kicked her out, mortified that her teenage daughter was carrying the local freaks baby. She arrived at Eddie’s trailer sobbing and soaking wet from the rain. When she announced to him that she was pregnant, he was as shocked as she was, but he wasn’t shocked that her mother had kicked her out, for that he had never felt so furious with the woman. Eddie had never been a favorite of her mother’s. Like most others in town, the middle-aged woman had the same opinion of him. That evening, after Y/N had gone to sleep, he had spoken to his uncle explaining everything to the only parental figure he had left.  

The older Munson allowed her to move in with them, but only after establishing certain ground rules that they had to follow. She only had the backpack she had packed with some clothing, her school materials, her diary, and some photographs when she moved in with her boyfriend and his uncle. A few days later, her mother had dropped a box off with additional clothing and personal items when she knew no one would be at the trailer.  

Being the wonderful boyfriend that he is, Eddie supported her however he could. He created some space for her belongings and began setting aside part of the cash made from his drug transactions to use for the things they would someday need for their unborn baby.   

He intended to apply for a position at the factory where his uncle worked. He was aware that it wouldn’t pay much, but they would have enough saved by the time Y/N began her maternity leave from her job at the convenience store where she occasionally worked after school, and on the weekends.  

But when he learned he wouldn’t be graduating this year, those plans fell through. Because he had to repeat his senior year, he was heartbroken that he couldn’t graduate this year with her and couldn’t provide for his little, growing family the way he wanted to.  

“I don’t fucking get it,” Eddie grumbled, his brow furrowing even more as he focused on the book on his lap as she leaned against the threshold to their bedroom.  

“You don’t get what?” She questioned, gazing at him sympathetically, wishing she could do more for him. She had made an effort to speak with the guidance counselor to see if there was anything they could do to help him graduate this year. She helped him study for his finals while also giving him all encouragement and support he needed it.   

“Why you bother with me?” He snaps, slamming the book close, and then throws it and the pencil he was using to the side. He raises his knees and lays his arms on top of them, an anxious look in his eyes.  

She enters the bedroom and kneels on the bed in front of him. She takes his hands and begins fiddling with his rings. “Because I love you, you idiot.”   

“I’m not good enough for you,” he expresses his current feelings. He always thought she could do better than him, but she continually assured him that he was everything she wanted and needed. But now that she was pregnant, he wouldn’t be graduating with her, and the only way he could support his family was to sell drugs to his classmates, he wasn’t sure if she could reassure him that he was enough for her and their unborn child. To him, they deserved someone who could support them without risking going to jail, someone who wasn’t going to be in their second year of senior year and someone who could land a well-paying job. They shouldn’t have to be constrained to living in a one-bedroom trailer they could hardly afford; they deserved to live in a decent house. They deserved someone who wasn’t called a freak and looked down upon. They deserved someone who wasn’t him. He gestures to their small bedroom. “You and the baby deserve more than this. You both deserve more than I can give you. You deserve better than me.”  

“What are you talking about?” she said, perplexed as to what was going on. “You are enough for me. You treat me like a queen. You continually make me feel loved, supported and appreciated. No one else can make me laugh like you do. When I’m sick, you always take care of me. You always check to see I have what I need and if I don’t, you go get it for me. On the days when I need to feel extra loved, you love me even more than you already do. When I drag you into the living room and turn on my favorite song, you dance with me. You cook dinner when I’m too tired to do it. When I need you to wash my back, you get in the shower with me. And when I told you that I was pregnant and that my mother threw me out, you stayed with me and took me in.” She pauses to take a deep breath, as her emotions began to take over.   

“You’re going to be just as amazing and wonderful with our child,” she continues. “She won’t care that we might struggle, that we share a trailer with your uncle, that her dad has to repeat his senior year. All that will matter to her is that you’ll love her just as much as she adores you. You’ll be her world, her hero, and the first man she’ll ever love. Edward Munson, you are more than enough for us.”  

Eddie didn’t say anything as he cupped her face and pulled her into a breathtakingly passionate kiss, expressing his undying love for her and apologizing of his own self-doubt. As she moves closer to him and she presses her lips more firmly on his and she grins. Eddie maneuvered them into a lying position with him hovering over her. Breaking off the kiss, he shuffles down, lifts the shirt she was wearing—which just so happened to be one of his Iron Maiden shirts—and presses his lips to her abdomen, where a small bump was beginning to form. His own flesh and blood, a perfect mix of him and her, was inside that small bump.  

He looks up at her with a mystified expression. “You said she. How do you know it’s a girl?”   

“Mother’s intuition?” she shrugs, lifting her arms.   

“You know, even if she’s a girl, I’m going to teach her to play D&D,” he states pressing one more kiss to her belly once more before moving back up her body to come face to face with her again.  

She’s smiling from ear to ear as she watches him and runs a hand through his hair. “Of course you will. She’ll be a Hellfire Club legacy, our own little dungeon master.”  

He kisses her again mumbling against her lips. “I love you so much, the both of you.”  

“We love you so much, too,” she responds deepening the kiss. 

[infiniteeight8]

I don't know if you are familer with this trope but:

Guide and Senital ironstrange

Anon, not only am I familiar with this trope, I wrote the tumblr post that quite a few people have used to explain it. 😀

I can actually rationalize Stephen and Tony in either role, but I decided to go with the most obvious (to me, anyway) version. This time, anyway! 

This is also a “Sentinels and Guides are known” style AU.

-

Tony tries very, very hard not to use his senses at all. 

It’s not that he doesn’t want them. He may have issues, but they aren’t those particular issues. He’d be happy to lean into those genetic advantages if, in his case, they outweighed the risks. Which they don’t. Three Sentinel and Guide centers (his local California Center first, then the California State Center, then the New York Center) all agree that Tony is, quote, “unusually susceptible to zone outs.” 

Which more or less means that damn near anything can tip him into one, and damn near nothing can get him out of one. Pepper, despite being so weak a Guide she only just registers on the test, is the best at getting him out of them. Given a quiet place and about half an hour undisturbed, she can get him back about half the time. The rest of the time, there’s nothing to do but wait. He usually comes out of a zone after four or five hours. Usually.

Once, he had to be put into care in the S&G Center for three days.

No one enjoys that, least of all Tony. So he does his best not to give his brain the opportunity to hyperfocus, and he meets the Guides the Center sends to match with him, and he tries not to envy the Sentinels who can snap out of a zone with a few words from the right person. 

Unfortunately, Tony’s work regularly involves intense focus on very small objects. Soldering a circuit board is legitimately dangerous for him, but like hell he’s going to give the job to someone else, especially when it concerns the armor. He tells himself that even when FRIDAY warns him against such work while Pepper is out of town.

The tiny…

…details… 

…swallow… 

…him.

.

.

The low rumble of a voice. A warm hand holding his, trembling faintly. The scent of tea and dust and something like but unlike ozone. It’s the scent that Tony follows back into the world. Blinking, Tony carefully straightens up from where he was hunched over his work bench. He doesn’t feel sore, which is unusual.

“Tony?”

Tony turns to find Stephen Strange sitting next to him, eyebrows knitted in concern. Tony clears his throat, but it doesn’t feel dry. “Yeah, I’m here. How long was I out?”

FRIDAY answers, “Fifteen minutes. With Ms. Potts out of town, I considered calling the S&G Center, but Doctor Strange is a registered Guide and I decided he was more likely to respond quickly.”

“You did good, FRIDAY,” Tony reassures her automatically, and then really registers her words. He turns to Strange. “You got me back in fifteen minutes?”

“More like ten, once I got here,” Strange says. “I’m sorry, it shouldn’t take that long.”

“That long?” Tony laughs. “Strange, that’s the fastest anyone has ever gotten me out of zone out in my entire life. That’s assuming they even can get me back. Are you bonded? Tell me you’re not bonded.”

Strange lets out an incredulous huff of laughter and shakes his head. “I’m not bonded,” he says. “And to anticipate your next question, yes, I’m amenable to a courtship.”

“Amenable,” Tony snorts, but he’s smiling. “Fantastic. FRIDAY, is there paperwork? If there is, get it started.”

Strange looks bemused, but in a good way, like he’s enjoying the ride. It’s a good sign, Tony decides.