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ellecdc · 7 months

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hi lovie !

I ADORE your writing and get so excited everytime you post 😭

I wanted to ask if you’re okay with writing a poly!marauders x reader fic where r is an overthinker and over analyzes small things. It brings r to think the boys are mad at reader so r begins to close off— happy ending w/ healthy communication, just them reassuring r

🤍you can absolutely ignore this!!

thank you baby! I'm so glad to have you here with me 😭 thanks for your request 🫶

poly!marauders x fem!reader

CW: insecurities, overthinking, belief of conflict, eventual healthy communication skills, men behaving rationally (that's how you know it's fiction) jkjkjkjkjk 👀

You knew you were overthinking; you could actually hear yourself spiraling as you chewed aggressively on your cuticles. You ran through every single interaction you and the boys had throughout the past few days and couldn’t help but come to the same conclusion every time.

They were mad at you.

And even saying it aloud made you feel silly because, really, what could you have possibly done that would have managed to upset all three of them without knowing about it?

There had been a few disagreements between the four of you since the beginning of the relationship; more specifically since you had joined the relationship.

The boys, it seemed, went through most of their more volatile fights prior to you meeting them.

But that didn’t mean there weren’t arguments. There were always differences of opinions, some hurt feelings, and learning everyone’s sensitivities and love languages etc. didn’t happen overnight; it took time.

One thing you were particularly thankful for was that you had yet to ever feel like the boys were ‘ganging up’ on you. Your argument always stayed between you and the participant of the conversation and everyone else opted to stay out of it unless they felt they could provide some helpful insight.

But for all of them to be mad at you without some big blow up happening? You couldn't imagine what would have caused it.

It wouldn’t have been anything you said or done to Sirius, as he was a very head strong person who preferred to face things upfront and head on. If you had done something wrong to Sirius, you would have heard about it.

James was a wild card since he usually wore his feelings on his sleeve, but he also had a tendency to paint a smile on his face and smile through the pain in order to keep the peace.

Remus was often stoic and the voice of reason, but you also knew he could be incredibly sensitive.

Oh god... had you done something to upset Remus? You must have...it’s the only rational explanation. He’d likely be telling Sirius not to say anything to you, and since Sirius struggled in biting his tongue, it would make sense that he opt for the “if you have nothing nice to say, don’t say anything at all” route.

And though James did tend to smile through the pain in order to keep the peace, he was also fiercely protective of his people – particularly when those people don’t seem inclined to stand up for themselves.

Oh god. Is this why they asked you to come over tonight? They wanted to talk to you...no, they wanted to break up with you.

By the time James opened the door, you had forgotten you even knocked. He was all bright smiles until he took in your form – he was disappointed to see you.

“Hello, honey. Come on in.” He said, though his words were stilted, sounding oddly scripted and rehearsed.

“Hey sweets!” Sirius called from somewhere in their flat, “have you eaten yet?”

“Yeah.” You called back, having to clear your throat when your voice came out gravelly. You could feel James’ eyes burning a hole into the side of your face.

“Moony’s running late from work, but he’ll be home soon.” James announced as he ushered you into the living room.

You scanned your surroundings, cataloguing everything like it might be your last time in here.

You found signs of Remus’ love of trinkets and the oddities everywhere you looked, as well as signs of James and Sirius feeding into that by bringing him home things they’ve found as well. There’s a small pewter fox you bought on your trip to the coast sitting on one of the shelves of his bookcase.

Picture frames lined the walls; evidence of Sirius’ love for photography, his camera, and his favourite people.

And the god-awful pillow James found at an estate sale and insisted it have a place on the couch. It was ugly, it was lumpy, it didn’t match with anything else in the space, but it was James’ and he loved it.

Sirius came bounding into the room and rubbed at James’ shoulder affectionately, pecking a quick kiss to the crown of your head in hello before breezing by to head to the kitchen.

“He just got a home a few moments ago, he’s gonna heat up some leftovers for him and for Remus when he gets home.” James explained.

“Do you want any, doll?” Sirius called.

“No, I’m okay. Thank you!” You tried your best to sound upbeat while a horrid feeling settled in your stomach.

James seemed to feel just as awkward as you did; keeping his eyes dutifully on you whilst trying to appear that he wasn’t. His leg bounced anxiously underneath him as he leaned onto the arm of the grandfather chair he sat in – across the room from you.

It may as well have been an ocean worth of distance with the way it left you feeling.

Sirius returned to the living room a few moments later and made himself comfortable on the other end of the couch from you, kicking his feet up onto the coffee table after placing a glass of water directly on the coffee table. You wanted to chide him, knowing Remus would have him by the bollocks if he saw, but you didn’t know if it was your place anymore.

Sirius asked you how your day at work was and you offered him a vague “oh it was alright. Long. How about yours?” which started him on a long tangent about some of his more colourful customers today and how tiresome he found people in general. He and James shared some quips and anecdotes about worst moments in their various retail experiences, and you thought about how much you were going to miss this.

“Okay, what is going on?” Sirius snapped abruptly, causing your head to shoot up so quickly that you heard it crack.

“Huh?” You asked sheepishly.

Sirius’ brows furrowed as he stole a glance at James before turning back to you. “You’re being weird...what’s going on with you?”

But you didn’t get a chance to answer when the sound of the front door alerted everyone to Remus’ arrival. You hated that you visibly tensed at the sound of him moving down the hall.

“Hey bubs. Is she here?” You heard him ask James, since you and Sirius couldn’t yet see him nor he you from his position in the hall way.

You felt your face scrunch up miserably and quickly brought your hands up to shield your face, choking out a silent sob.

“Yeah.” James responded, though his voice was but a whisper as Sirius added a “whoa” at the same time.

“What did you guys do?” Remus cooed and made his way towards you having spotted your distress.

“I’m sorry.” You muttered miserably, both for whatever you’d done to cause this conflict between the four of you and also for your embarrassing display of emotions.

“What are you sorry for, dovey?” Remus asked softly as he knelt in front of you, gently taking your wrists and coaxing them away from your face.

“For upsetting you all.”

Remus’ brows furrowed beyond their worried state and into a more confused state as he turned to look at the other two boys in bemusement.

“Well, I don’t think any of us are happy that you’re so upset, love, but we’re not upset. You don’t have to apologize.” He pressed.

“I don’t think that’s what this is.” James input from his place across the room.

“I’m sorry. I’m not quite sure why you’re mad at me, but I’d like to talk about it with you and I promise not to do it again.” You cried, sounding disturbingly and embarrassingly close to begging.

“Mad at you? Is that why you’ve been such a weirdo tonight? You thought we were mad at you?” Sirius asked incredulously.

“Don’t call her a weirdo, Pads!” James chided, standing from his chair.

“Why’d you think everyone was mad at you, dove?” Remus asked, ignoring the squawking of his boyfriends behind him as he forced you to hold eye contact with him.

“I... I don’t know, I guess things just felt kind of off this week and then...I don’t know.” You admitted dumbly. “And then I got here and, it just felt weird.”

“I’m sorry, angel.” James apologized, suddenly beside you having taken to sitting directly on top of (a very petulant) Sirius. “You seemed distressed and... I got nervous. Usually, Rem is the better one at handling these things, I wanted to wait until he got here to broach the subject. Sirius, though, has the tact of a bull.”

“So, you were just going to let all of us sit here awkwardly until Remus got here to save the day, huh? Not on my fucking watch.” Sirius groaned as he positioned himself to kick James not only off of him, but off the couch completely. This caused Sirius’ glass of water to topple off the coffee table and onto the rug below it.

“Nice going, Prongs,” Sirius spat victoriously from his place on the couch, “look at the mess you’ve made.”

“It wasn’t even my cup!” James defended.

“Don’t think I didn’t notice that wasn’t on a fuckin' coaster, Sirius.” Remus reproached darkly, tossing the dark-haired boy a glare over his shoulder.

Sirius just smirked and then winked at you. “There you go, dollface, now everyone’s mad at me instead.”

“Awe, Pads!” James cooed from the ground before launching himself back onto Sirius. “Look at you, taking the heat off our pretty girl.”

Remus shook his head in exhaustion, but you could see a fond smile ghosting his lips from his place before you.

“Trust me, dove. You’re the least of our problems.”

You chuckled wetly and wiped the tears (and more embarrassingly, the snot) from your face. “I’m sorry. I feel rather silly now.”

Sirius, having given up on his instance to be the little spoon between he and James, looked around James’ broad frame in his lap to face you. “How about this; if we’re ever upset with you, we promise to tell you. If we haven’t said anything; it’s safe to assume we’re not mad. Okay?”

You nodded in agreement.

“And...” James continued. “Next time you find yourself feeling like this, maybe you can tell us, too?”

You nodded emphatically. “Yes, I promise. I’m sorry.”

Remus kissed the backs of both of your hands and stood from his knelt position in front of you.

“No more sorry’s, dove. We’re all good.”

James stood from Sirius’ lap to place a warm kiss to the space between your cheek and ear and whispered another apology for your being upset.

“Hey, Moons?” Sirius called.

“Yeah?”

“Are you heading to the kitchen?” He called with the sort of smirk that caused you and James to exchange a suspicious look.

“Yeah.”

“Can you grab me a glass of water, please?”

“Fuckin’ hell Sirius get off your arse. And use a sodding coaster.” Remus bellowed from the bedroom.

“See? You’re the least of our problems.” James repeated, stamping another kiss to your cheek.

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thebluester2020 · 3 months

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If you're taking writing comissions.. I really liked your post about sdv bachelors with reader who squirts...but let's turn it around! How about a farmer (female) who is really quiet during sex? Cuz you know, when she was touching herself alone, she didn't want to be loud and it stayed that way. You don't have to write all the bachelors, I'm interested in Harvey 👀 I imagine he would be concerned at first and overthinking if he did something wrong

Harvey x Quiet Farmer Who Squirts For The First Time

Summary: Harvey makes a quiet reader squirt for the first time. Warning(s): Munch Harvey, Reader is a bit quiet in this one, Slight dom!Harvey(?) [It quickly goes away though lol], Both Harvey and the reader are shy together tbh. Side note(s): Sorry this took so long anon- the procrastination virus hit me hard 😭 [I hope this is close to what you were asking for!] Also, shout out to Aaryan Shah for being my song inspo that allowed me to write this. His music is so good I swear to god.

MINORS AND AGELESS BLOGS DNI

°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ

He couldn't help the nervousness that racked his entire body as he feasted upon your sex. You...you were just so quiet!

And that was something that he never minded. Your comfort and pleasure came before any wishes he may have had or would ever had, so long as he was allowed to suckle at your cute clit, sweet babbled murmurs and moans flooding his ears like the welcomed warmth of water over cold skin. He was was fine with you never making a single sound in the bedroom.

Your reactions and silent pleas for him to continue were enough for him, enough to make his cock absolutely ache.

But, at this moment? As your cunt practically begged and drooled for more of his skillful tongue, the sight of your glistening pussy wet from the sheen of your slick making his throat dry as if he hadn't taken a sip of water in days. Coupled along with the fact he was admiring your panting figure through his lashes, a question mark silently formed in his head.

Why were you so adamant on making as little noise as possible?

As arousing as your attempts were...from how you bit your lip so hard to the point he feared it would bleed.

Or how you'd squirm and turn your head side to side, biting either the pillow sheets or covering your lips with the back of your hand if that wouldn't work. Adorable as it was, his desire to hear you moan out his name all the stored-up breath in your lungs frew ever fervent in his mind. To the point he feared he'd begin to cum inside his boxers like some teenager!

But...rather than try to confront you about it, it was far more fun to let his tongue and fingers do the convincing. To let them coax your voice out of you.

"H-Harvey...?" You whispered in a daze as you finally registered Harvey's tongue no longer circling your sex, your breath labored as you shakily rose your head to look at him.

"Yes?" He responded with devotion in his gaze, apologetically pressing a kiss to the inside of your thighs as his fingers slowly traced your labia.

You sucked in a breath, electricity pulsing through you at the simple slow touch. "W-Why did you stop?" You whispered.

Harvey pressed another kiss on you, to the hood of your clit this time as he steadily worked you back up, as well as silently worked himself up to the plan he was about to commit. He almost felt bad for it! Torturing his poor wife who looked like she was on the verge of tears if she didn't get to cum in the next minute.

"Harvey..." You moaned, trying to get his attention once more. "A-Aren't you going to— Oh!" There it was...the noise he'd been so desperately searching for, yearning quietly since the moment you two had started becoming intimate with one another, all from him suddenly plunging his fingers inside of your wanton sex and curling them up into your sweet spot.

An action he more than eagerly repeated as his head dived back towards your sex, lapping and suckling at your engorged clit as he unconsciously rutted against the sheets, aching to release his cock from its confines and find relief in your sweet sweet pussy.

"I'm so clue," You cried out, your thighs shaking as your peak rapidly approached the more Harvey's fingers continued its assault on your G-spot inside your pussy. Something that didn't register in the doctor's head as he became drunk off your juices, barely paying mind to how your thighs twitched more than usual or how you were becoming more and more vocal.

It was like finally receiving that badly wanted gift during Christmas.

His groans against your pussy creating a delicious buzz against your clit that further brought you closer and closer to orgasm until...something felt different.

You grabbed his hair, fruitlessly tugging to try and catch his attention. "H-Harvey...!" You keened, Harvey's free hand digging into the flesh of your hips to keep you open before you came. The sheer force shocked you as a guttural scream ripped from your throat, white flooding your eyes as wetness gushed out of your cunt.

And it was silent as you came down from your explosive high, your chest heaving up and down as you struggled to focus your vision and come back down to reality. Your vision was blurry and...filled with Harvey's worried expression as he looked down at you. "Y/N! Are you okay?" He asked, his voice distant as you smiled all dopey-like.

"Y-Yeah..." You said.

As you steadily propped yourself up on your elbows and rose an arm to loop around Harvey's neck, bringing him closer to you. Both you and he began to blush as you tried to work up to asking your question. "C-Can you do that again...?"

His words choked up in his throat, his cock twitching at your words.

Rather than it being a one-time thing, it seemed he'd have all night to continue to hear your unashamed moans...

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satcrvz · 8 months

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CHAPTER SIX: EMOTIONAL SUPPORT DOG

navi

"what do i wear?" you ask holding up two sweatshirts that nearly looked identical.

nobara huffs before responding, "please just pick one, they look the same babe"

"i can't! am i overthinking? i'm definitely overthinking". you decide to go with the sweatshirt you were holding in your right hand. nobara calls out to you from her room, "he's literally seen you at your worst!"

you assume that she's referring to when you first saw him, when you found out that he existed. that wasn't my worst moment i was cute for a girl in pajamas.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

you and yuuji are almost to your destination, "you know you sounded like rapunzel asking to see the lanterns when you asked me to drive you"

"oh my god shut up i did not" you say in between giggles. he makes the final turn and there you are, yuta's house.

"oh you're just going to drop me off on the curb like i'm a whore" you say while unbuckling your seatbelt.

only his left hand is on the steering wheel and his head turns very slowly to look at you, "you want me to walk you to the door like i'm dropping you off for a playdate?"

"yeah kinda," you pause to open your door and hop out "it'd be rude if you didn't stop and say hi". the minute you heard him sigh, you knew you'd won.

you greeting yuta was a blur, you can't even remember what stupid shit you did because of your nerves. all you remember was a holy shit you muttered when you saw the entry way, to call it nice was an understatement.

currently, you were sitting criss crossed on the floor with yuta to the left of you. "so wait, you have all the games?"

"yeah! you could play the resident evil 4 remake since it's still kind of trending?" he stares at you and there's a short moment of silence before he continues, "only if you want to though, you'll have the controller, not me".

you give him a reassuring smile, "yeah that's fine! beware I am going to die though". he laughs and you swear its the cutest thing you've ever heard "it's okay, i can walk you through it" shutupshutup oh my god i'm going to scream.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

"wait why are they jumping him. just make friends with them duh”

“yn, you have to fight back” the stress was very adamant in his tone. "i can't. i wasn't paying attention when they gave instructions. . ." you glance over to the chat to see a mix of yours and yuta's fans laughing at you.

he reaches over to grab the controller from your hands, but not without "accidentally" ghosting over both of your hands holding the controller.

you watched the screen and took an occasional glance at the stream. you figured you should probably figure out what buttons he's pressing, so you look down at his hands which were actually quite nice. no dirt under them, hang nails, or anything else, it almost made you forget why you looked over at them.

"there", he says while handing the controller back to you. "dude where the fuck did you go?" you'd ended up in a completely different spot from where you initially were. "hey, i put you on the right path. you ran like, too far from where you were actually supposed to be"

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

"okay guys! i think that's it for today my back is starting to hurt, and i'm sick of someone criticizing me" you're staring directly at the chat while you say this.

"i wasn't criticizing! i mean i was, but it was helpful" he continues, "this is our first time hanging out and you're already trying to get rid of me"

"whatever. anyways bye guys!" you say while ending the stream. you bring both hands up and behind your head to stretch

"i'm hungry, i think i'm going to text yuuji to come get me"

"you don't have to, i can take you back and stop and get something, if thats okay with you?"

teehee... do we like?

my brain was cooking but my fingers were not. do y'all fw ihop? i might make ihop the stop.

didn’t proofread this 😭

tags: @saesofficialwife @k4romis @soy-garbage @sakyira @dreamxiing @swissy23 @shnzies @captaincyberqueen @fantasycantasy @chuyasthighs0 @mixzimi @milza12 @nahoye @spookyrule @4phskingdom @sad-darksoul @morgyyyyyy @smashingdollz @bubbles-the-ghost @lunavixia @gaychaosgremlin @jayathelostdragon

#✧; satcrvz #jjk x reader #yuta smau #jujutsu kaisen x reader #✧; show me how !

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lostonmari · 9 months

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Stop Being a Victim.

A lot of y'all may be real mad at me.. but it must be said. Some of you are ADDICTED to suffering. There. I said it. I love the LOAss community, but sometimes some of yall need somebody to just yank you up by the collar of your shirt and get you together because the things some of yall say and do makes me wonder if you're actually even serious about wanting to manifest 😭

- Long, maybe encouraging rant below the cut.

I understand everyone has different struggles in their lives, so I'm sympathetic, but at some point... when do YOU take accountability and responsibility for yourself? What is the point of consuming LOA content all day and NEVER applying it? What is the point of asking coaches, bloggers, LOA twt accounts, 50 questions a day and NEVER applying it or listening to their advice?

YOU have to stand up. YOU have to stop letting life happen TO YOU and start MAKING it happen YOURSELF. Being passive is NOT something that will get you what you want when you're coming from an unfavorable mindset. No, I don't mean you have to go get a job to "MaNiFeSt" the money you've been affirming for. You never have to lift a finger for your manifestations (unless it's inspired action.) BUT, I am saying, you need to be consistent and stop the back and forth. Quit wavering!

You affirm for one day then you say it's not working. You affirm for a week then you say it's not working. You affirm for three months, you affirm 50000 times, you listen to a subliminal, you script, all of these things.. but you still say it's not working. It's NOT WORKING because YOU aren't letting it work! If YOU HAVE IT, then it is DONE! You don't have to check, you don't have to run around in circles or dance around a bonfire naked at the crack of dawn, YOU JUST HAVE TO LET IT BE. If you affirm, if you set your intention, repeat your visualizations, do SATS every night til the cows come home... No matter the method you use, all you have to know is that it is DONE. Let it be and let it happen. Stop causing your own delay then blaming manifestation or saying the law of assumption doesn't work.

And yes, it is the same when manifesting an SP or changing someone's behavior. HOW do you expect Mr. Man or Miss Woman or Mx Human to change when you are sitting there complaining to your bestie about how annoying they are, how they never do this, how they never do that? You are reaffirming what you DON'T want. Oh, wait now let me guess you found out SP has a partner now you're complaining to your friend about how you never get what you want or you'll never find your dream man/woman. SHUT UP! Just. KEEP. PERSISTING. IF you want him/her, then HE/SHE IS YOURS. Neville himself said IT BEST! "If it takes one person or ten thousand to aid the birth of your assumption, they will come." Don't give up just because of a minor inconvenience. You are GOD! Who is more perfect for your SP than you?

"But what if I have intrusive thoughts... I can't affirm or visualize" You have most likely had intrusive thoughts your whole life. Have you ever actually walked out in front of a train? Did you ever stab someone? No? Alright then. If you overthink THAT much, just affirm that your intrusive thoughts DON'T manifest. It's that simple. The point of an intrusive thought is that it's unwanted. You are not consciously persisting in those thoughts. You don't have to be afraid of them.

The point is. YOU are always in control. YOU always have the final say. If YOU say it works, then it works. Your desire will come to fruition. But you have to stop letting every single thing make you waver. You have to stop letting every person's limiting belief make you doubt yourself. You are GOD! Act like it and give yourself the life you deserve. You don't HAVE to suffer. You don't HAVE to be unhappy. You can change at ANY TIME. You just have to want it.

#law of assumption #manifestation #manifesting #neville goddard #sammy ingram #loassumption #loassrant #sp manifestation

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netherfeildren · 1 year

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FEAR OF GOD : Chapter II : Although a monster [Joel] could be charming in company

Series Masterlist

Pairing: Joel Miller x OFC

Content Warnings: Angst, possessive behavior, unprotected sex (there are no condoms in the apocalypse, only vibes), oral sex (f!receiving), squirting, brief non-graphic descriptions of medical procedures / illness, brief discussion of avoiding meals (no reference to any sort of ED), stupid! Joel ™️

Summary: Joel gets a little stupid and a little jealous.

Rating: Explicit 18+

A/N: I wanted to mention that that I've altered the timeline a smidge to benefit my own whims. So the Joel we find here is about 50-51 and our reader is in her mid to late 20's (cw: age gap 🤓) Everything else in the timeline is the same up until Joel and Ellie return to Jackson.

Another thing, I hella make shit up in this chapter. I talk about a surgical device and there’s discussions of like mechanical/electrical engineering? which I know fuck all about. So if it reads as nonsense I sincerely apologize. There’s a fair bit of character/world building in this ch. so I hope you all can bear with me for a smidge. There is the gift of porn at the end though >:)

Chapter title is from Anne Carson’s Autobiography of Red (my favorite book in the whole world which everyone should read). Art is Intimacy by Angelica Alzona

Word count: a whopping 9.6k (I'm so sorry 😭)

Read on AO3

CHAPTER II: Although a monster [Joel] could be charming in company

What it looked like?

Like fucking the forest for once birdless, beastless.

Like measuring the distance between all that’s lost

and everything else that, even now, waved at

hard enough sometimes,

will sometimes wave back.

But it felt like swallowing the sea–

being forced to, ships and all.

Then a silence as vast as it was particular.

The like holding a mirror up to Apollo

and expecting his face there, when Apollo’s always been

faceless, obviously, being a god.

And the hand still holding the mirror up anyway.

And the face not showing.

-Carl Phillips, Star Map with Action Figures

“I mean, yeah, I’d fuckin’ like to think so. I’m not sure. She told me –”

“Ellie, you’re overthinking the hell out of it.”

“I am not,” she grumbles.

“You’re a dumbass,” you deadpan.

That riles her up. “Me?! You!”

“What’ve I done? It’s pretty obvious what’s happening here – Dina wants you to ask her out – you’re too chicken shit to step up.”

“Okay, genius. Y’don’t know what you’re talking about, first of all.” The sass on this girl, honestly. The two of you sit together at the picnic tables that’d been set out in the town center for the monthly barbecue. “You think you’re so damn smart. Well lemme just ask you this, what’s going on with Joel? You two’ve been weird as fuck lately.” That shuts you up quick.

“Don’t even start with that. The answer is nothing.”

She gives you that knowing look of hers, but let’s it go. Silently says: I know this hurts, so I won’t push. Out loud: “You started it, motherfucker.” You yank on her bangs, and she swats you away. “Maybe I should call you a fatherfucker instead,” she cackles.

“Oh my god, I actually hate you.” You try and swat her back, yank on her bangs again.

“What’re you two schemin’ about?” Joel’s voice comes from behind you.

“Speak’a the devil,” she says under her breath, starting to gather up her empty plate.“Nothing–” She shoots up, and brushes past, “Gotta go. We’ll talk later,” not even sparing him a glance. You look between the two of them wishing there was anything you could do to help them bridge this cold distance between them. She turns before walking off, gives you the finger behind his back.

“Ellie, hold on a sec,” you call after her, but she’s off.

“It’s fine,” Joel says. “Leave it.”

“I’m sorry,” shielding your eyes from the bright sun, you look up into his serious face.

He shakes his head. “Nothin’ for you to be sorry about. Ain’t got nothin’ to do with you.” And that stings. Off-handedly as it’s said, it stings that he thinks their rift doesn’t affect you, make you hurt for the two of them.

How could he ever think that after everything he’d told you about Sarah – a night that’d made you feel closer to him than ever before, while you two lay in bed, still damp and trembling – that you’d not worry about his relationship now with Ellie? Who you knew he loved like a daughter, even if he was incapable of saying it out loud. How could he think it had nothing to do with you now? After what he’d told you about himself in the aftermath of Sarah. That moment, his confession, could sustain you for a lifetime of this push and pull if necessary. With trust like that, what else mattered? Very little, you thought.

“You get everything done you needed to?” he threads his fingers through the hair at the nape of your neck, and bends to press a soft kiss to your temple.

You sigh, basking in this small tenderness he offers you after his casual hurt. “Yeah, we finished.” Sometimes you wonder if there’s something wrong with you, taking all this in stride. Luxuriating in his offerings of tenderness and vulnerability one second, swallowing the way he casually brushes you off another. Surely there must be something wrong with you. Especially because, when it comes down to it, you don’t really care as much as you think you should .

“How’d it go?” You’d had to debride some areas from Mr. Schwartz’s diabetic foot this morning – super fun for the both of you . The foot was famous in Jackson. A great source of shrieks and giggles when the old man decided to pull it out in front of the kids as his so-called ‘party trick’. We all gotta bring something fun to the table, honey, he’d tell you when you tried to put on your false tone of admonishment with him.

“Long – I had to take more than I’d initially thought I’d need to.”

“He alright?”

“Resting now… Just means it’ll be harder for him later on – take longer to recover, as best he can, in any case. And ideally, what he really needs is a boot – which we have – one… but it’s not in great condition. I don’t even know if it’ll fit him – or a wheelchair, and both of them are being used right now. So, seems my only other option is to order him into bed until I can figure something else out. And of course Connie’s all, this is on you, honey. I trust your judgment, honey. ” You deepen your tone and scrunch your brow trying to inflect Connie’s baritone. “As if that’s helpful.”

He grips your chin, forcing you to take a breath, brushes his thumb across your bottom lip, and your eyes flutter shut, pressing a tiny kiss to the pad of his thumb. He hums a little, and you catch the flare of heat in his eyes. “You’ll worry yourself half to death, little bird. Take a breath.” You huff a small laugh. He was right about that, worry was heavy on your mind recently. About lots of different things.

“I fixed you a plate,” you divert.

“You didn’t have to do that, sweetheart. Thank you.” He swings his long leg over the bench to sit astride it, legs open to pull you between his thighs.

“S’alright. I was getting Connie’s anyway.” He digs in, and you card your fingers through his thick hair – overly long now, it brushes the collar of his shirt in the back, you’ll need to cut it for him soon – and watch the thick column of his throat ripple as he swallows. You press your thighs together – the sun is so strong today. You think it might be making you a little delirious.

“You’re not eating.” It isn’t a question, posed more like an admonishment, paired with the severe crook of his brow.

“Nah, I’m alright. Can’t have anything just yet after staring at that foot all morning,” you joke.

“You telling me you’re not as entertained by it as the kids are?”

You roll your eyes at him. “Shocking, I know.”

He turns to give you an assessing glance now, “You sure you’re alright?”

“Just tired.” You lay your head in the cool, dark crook of his neck, breathe him in. “Birdie …” voice laced with concern – he tries to gently tug you back by your ponytail, but you burrow in further – press your lips to the pulsing vein in his neck. “I’m fine, Joel. Just tired, really.” He huffs. Grouchy man.

“Hi, honey,” Connie shuffles up to the table. “Joel–” he nods, “You two alright ? That go a long time with Mr. Shwartz?” he asks.

You’re grateful for the distraction from Joel’s fifth degree. “It was fine. Our handy dandy Bovie is so good.” You’d done your best recently to fashion an electrocautery device, like the ones they’d used before in surgery. The two of you had gathered the different parts over time and much voracious scavenging, to put the system together. “You’ve gotta try it next. We should be real proud of that.”

“You should be proud. You’ve got a nice mechanical mind in you, as well. You know, Joel, the body is just a machine of flesh and blood.” Connie turns his blue eyes, gone slightly milky now, on Joel, ready to impart his slice of wisdom – part lecture, part proud tirade for your benefit, as the younger man continues to work through his plate of barbecue. “She looks at the two the same way; it’s very impressive.”

Joel finishes chewing: “Our girl is nothin’ if not impressive,” he says, giving you an impish little smirk. You pinch the inside of his thigh over the thick denim, not imparting nearly enough punishment as you’d like to.

“Shut up,” you grouch at him. “Anyways, the lines were pretty sharp, the cauterization clean. A bit slow, though. I felt a bit held back – but not too bad, considering.”

“Considering…” Connie muses. He starts to eat as well, and the sight of the slick, sauce covered meat is slightly revolting. The sun is way too hot with the change of season into fall just on the cusp, and after staring at poor Mr. Schwartz’s mangled foot all day… “I’m thinking with a little more juice it’ll be perfect. We just have to find a way to feed it more power without frying the whole system.”

“Yes… it’s delicate,” he says slowly.”You should ask Noah for advice.” Joel is silent beside you, but you feel the tensing of his thigh beneath your palm at the mention of Noah’s name. “He’s always been very keen to help us in any way we need.”

“Oh, has he?” Joel drawls, in that monotone he loves to use when cutting people down. He can’t fucking stand Noah; it’s quite funny to you, actually. You nudge his knee with your own, still cradled between his spread legs, and drag your nails slowly up and down his thigh, only responding with a non-committal hum. He shifts his jaw in that way he’s wont to do when he’s especially aggravated, cocks his eyebrow at you. You give him a tiny little mocking tilt of your head. You’re sure he can see the laughter at his expense in your eyes.

“Yes,” Connie continues, completely oblivious to the silent conversation going on between the two of you, “He’s very adept at anything electrical or mechanical. Although, you are, as well, Joel. Perhaps you could advise us too. Any help would be greatly appreciated.”

“I wouldn’t say that, but I can take a look. Offer what I can.”

You change the subject: “Teddy’s been in again this week.” One of the single mother’s in Jackson, Susanna’s son, Teddy, had been continuously ill the past few months. Coming down with different, seemingly unrelated afflictions on and off. His mother was beside herself with worry, and you and Connie were reaching your limits on what you could do to help him. Much less actually provide a clear answer as to a diagnosis.

“Yes, I spoke to his mother last night. Some sort of ague again, undoubtedly.”

You roll your eyes at him affectionately. Connie loved to condemn undiagnosable patients with ‘the ague’. “Connie, the ague is absolutely not a valid form of diagnosis,” you laugh. That launches him into a tirade about the conundrum the boys posed to the both of you these past few weeks. And ague is a perfectly valid explanation, honey. Neither of you are certain what’s causing his bouts of illness. Though you’re reluctantly leaning towards something that won’t pose anything good for any of you; you’re trying to remain optimistic, but the uncertainty is taking a toll on the both of you, as well as his mother.

As Connie goes on, there’s a hazy buzz rumbling around in your brain. Your temples throb, and you press the tender spot into the hard mass of Joel’s shoulder. He’s finished eating now, and you nuzzle into him, breathe in the warm scent of his skin and sweat, grip the hard swell of his bicep – the thick muscle has the most inappropriate arousal pooling low in your belly, but your stomach churns at the same time, and the sun is so damn bright. Too many opposing sensations going on within you all at once, you’re sure you’re on the verge of sun poisoning – dramatic – and it’s making you needy. Infecting you with ideas of crawling into his lap and having him cradle you. He stiffens beneath your attentions suddenly. The soothing large palm he’d been dragging up and down your spine goes still, pausing with his fingertips tucked just below the waistband of your jeans – as if he’s just now realizing how openly affectionate the two of you are being – his muscles go rigid at your display, and then that’s it. He’s pulling away.

Your gut twists again, your head is really spinning now – you straighten in your seat, scoot back and out of the cradle of his thighs, as far as the bench allows you. Always fucking pulling away. He’s stiff and uncomfortable, but at your retreat he clicks his tongue at you, frowns a little, and you want to snap at his subtle admonishment – you started it, what are you frowning at me for?

Connie is still going on about Teddy. “You sure you’re alright, dear?” he interrupts himself. “You look a bit peaky.”

“I’m fine.” You stand abruptly, “I’ve got to head back, actually.” Joel turns to reach for you, but you step back and away from his fingers. The heat is definitely making you grouchy, sick; you’re not acting yourself. “I promised Mr. Schwartz I’d be back to check on him within the hour.” You don’t want to look at Joel anymore – you’re used to his sudden bouts of tension – discomfort – but something is setting you on edge today.

“You should eat something before you go, honey,” Connie says – looking up at you with concern.

“I had something before I came. I’m okay.” You turn to look at Joel now, as the lie passes your lips, a provocation held in your eyes and tone.

He frowns, “You said –”

“I’ll see you two later.”

“Birdie –” But you’ve turned from him before he can continue, walking away quickly. Your head is spinning, gut cramping and turning over on itself. The sun feels like it’s two feet away from you, bearing down on the crown of your head, and you know you’re about to be sick. Always fucking pulling away, always. It embarrasses you a little that you still chafe at it, the back of your eyes pinching and saliva pooling heavy on your tongue. You know the way he is.

You make it back to the clinic just in time to vomit behind the bushes on the side of the house.

Jesus.

Susanna brings Teddy into the clinic late in the evening. You’ve just finished writing up your operative note for the ‘famous foot’ (Mr. Schwartz’s words, not yours) when she flies in, frantic, with the listless child in her arms. She tells you he’d been lethargic and without an appetite all day, but she’d chalked it up to fatigue and melancholy from being ill and bedridden so often, recently. His fever had crept up out of nowhere, and now Teddy was almost unconscious, burning hot and delirious – words slurring, eyes glassy.

It’d been hours since then. Teddy was now resting quietly with cool compresses and ice bags tucked under his arms and against his neck which seemed to be helping. Susanna had retired to the back of the house to rest for a bit, and you now sat between Mr. Schwartz and the boy, quietly reading over a text both you and Connie had already gone over multiple times – hoping to find anything that’d inspire an explanation. Most concerningly of all, you’d noticed a smattering of purple-yellowish, sickly looking bruises along Teddy’s spine. It pushed you in the direction your mind had previously taken concerning what could potentially be the cause of all of this. And even though it was the first you’d seen of any bruising on him, it didn’t reassure you at all.

“Joel’s here,” Nancy, the nurse that worked with you and Connie, says quietly from the doorway. You stand from your bedside vigil, sighing. It’s late, and you don’t want to do this now. A little embarrassed from your earlier fit. A lot tired from the long day and throwing up and the heat.

“Can you come out and get me in two minutes, please? Interrupt us.”

She gives you an assessing look. “Sure.”

You walk out to the office to find him leaning against your cluttered desk, bulging arms crossed against his chest, straining the sleeves of his button down. There’s a far off look in his eyes, scowl marring his brow, but when he looks up at you all the tightness in his countenance seems to melt away at the sight of you. “You alright?” His gaze is assessing – sweeping up and down your frame, taking everything in like always. The man sees entirely too much.

“I’m fine. I need to stay here tonight, though.” You jerk your thumb back towards the exam room. “They need me.”

“You said you were tired.”

“It passed – just the sun.” He looks at you like he doesn’t really believe you.

“About earlier—”

“It’s fine, Joel.” You feel too tired, too strung out, to give him an out by pretending to ignore that he’d hurt you, pissed you off. Let it be what it was – you had a sick child to care for – couldn’t think about all the distance that would seemingly exist forever between the two of you, not right now, at least.

“You lied about eating.”

Oh, now he wanted to be fucking honest. You roll your eyes at him, watch his jaw clench. “What?” Tone bratty and antagonistic, “No I didn’t – you misunderstood.”

“You told me you didn’t want to eat, and then you told Connie, not fifteen minutes later, that you’d already eaten.”

“Well then I misspoke – that’s not what I meant.” You turn away from him towards the desk, busy your hands with the papers littered across its surface to avoid his eyes. You feel like fighting – like baring your teeth at him, and you hate it. You don’t want to fight with him, ever. You want, need, things to be okay between the two of you. “Why are we arguing about this? I have to get back.” The bite in your voice startles you for a second, and your hands pause their shuffling. Turning back to face him, wide eyed and shocked at the way you practically spit the words at him, but, fuck it, you decide to just go with it.

He doesn’t let you, though – doesn’t take your bait. You watch the muscle in his jaw feather rapidly as he grinds his teeth, fists curled into knots at his sides like he’s trying to restrain himself from throttling you – and you think you’d kind of like him to do it. You’ve gotta be PMSing or something because where is all this sudden desire for violence coming from? You definitely need to sleep soon.

He exhales a slow breath through his nose. “Not try’na argue, baby… just figure out what’s wrong.” Your heart twists painfully, the back of your eyes pinching and hot, and you will not cry right now. His words make you even more angry because if he cares so much about such seemingly small things like this, why can’t he just let everything else fall into place between you as well?

Nancy pops her head through the open door, calling your name, “Need you when you’ve got a second.”

“Be right there, Nance.” You throw her a grateful look.

Turning back to Joel you rub your forehead, trying to press the ache that’s taking root in your brain out with your fingertips. “Nothing… nothing’s wrong. I’m just…” you sigh, suddenly very sad, very tired. You take in his weathered face, his brow pulled down into a scowl anyone who knew him less would take for anger, but you see it for what it is: concern, discomfort, frustration at the tension that’s held constant between the two of you all day. The both of you pulling away and then yanking each other back. You can see he wants to move past this, avoid whatever fight is brewing – too much for him to handle. You know he hates it when you’re angry and annoyed with him, and doesn’t that have to mean something? Please, please it must mean something more. But you’re too tired for this now, your body overwrought from its brief bout of sickness earlier, from your long day. You’d like to go to bed with him and not wake up for a year. Lay on his chest and feel the movement of his breathing rock you to sleep, count the spaces between his ribs, make a home for yourself within them. A great jealousy for his heart, the organ itself, writhes in you, that it gets to live inside him. You’re feeling melancholy and exhausted and overly emotional . Sad that even when he’s the source of your turmoil, your hurt, he’s still the only one you want to go to for comfort. You clear your throat, “I’m fine, Joel. Really.” You try and give him a small smile. “I was in a mood earlier, but I’m okay now.”

“I need us to be okay, Birdie. I– I know…” he looks away, hisses through his teeth in frustration. “I know I don’t always act like it, but–”

You hold up a hand to stop him. You don’t want to, can’t, listen to him try and make excuses. Explain to you things you’ve always understood about what this thing is between the two of you. “We don’t need to do this. I promise everything’s fine. I need to get back.” You step forward to press a kiss to the underside of his jaw, to appease the both of you, but also if only because you can’t help but touch him when he’s near, hands snaking up his belly and chest to fist in the collar of his shirt. He hums low in his throat and grips the back of your neck, other hand low on your back to press you to him, and everything inside you goes liquid hot and wanting, just at the feel of him, the scent of him.

“Try and rest.” He breathes you in at the crown of your head, and you nod against his chest.

“I will. Don’t worry.” But you know he’ll do that anyways, and that alone is a comfort.

Connie meanders in about midnight, nocturnal creature that he is, to check on you all. You’d pulled the armchair from the office into the corner of the infirmary while you read in the corner. An all night vigil wasn’t exactly necessary – Teddy’s fever had broken about an hour ago, his vitals were stable, and Mr. Schwartz had been snoring the night away for hours. Nancy lived on the second floor of the house, and was always near and available if necessary, but you were peaceful here. Tucked away in your corner with your book and a throw draped over your folded knees. The anxiety you’d carried heavy in your belly all day had dissipated. Thoughts of Joel settled now, compared to the frenzied hysterical swarm they’d been all day. Sometimes this need for him scared you. That your mood, your physical self, could so easily be altered by him, by his own mood, his words, his touch. The tether he held you by was so strong, it felt unbreakable, permanent. It scared you to think what would become of you if one day he decided to break it.

Connie passes a hand over the boy’s forehead, murmuring to himself as he examines him, pops his stethoscope in to take a listen. His movements are slow and practiced, methodical. You’d always loved watching him work. You’ve passed so far into the realms of exhaustion, you’re a little delirious now, your mind and vision hazy, and you rest your head against the wingback and watch. “He’s settled now. Vitals are steady.” You hum in agreement.

He turns to look at you then, his gaze contemplative as he takes a seat on the bench along the end of the bed directly in front of you. His tired groan makes you smile a little, old man. The fondness for him squeezes your heart. He has something to say, you can tell. “I know your father was an exacting man,” he starts. You nod, still quiet. You know that now is a time for listening. “I think of him often. I know I never met him, but he wanders into my mind quite frequently. I think of the things you’ve told me about him, about your mother and sister–” When you’d first become close, it’d been hard for you to speak of your family, of Beth and her death, but eventually you’d forced yourself to. For no other reason than that the thought of you being the only person left in the world that remembered their names, that knew their stories, wrought a grief in you so profound, it was impossible to keep it all inside. You were scared if you didn’t share, if you carried all that alone, you’d lose yourself in their memories forever. “I think that after all that, after living their deaths in such a gruesome way, it could have been very easy for you to lose yourself in all that. Do you agree?” Another small tilt of your chin. The precision with which he’d always read you, understood you, was the greatest comfort in the world. That sometimes it wasn’t even necessary to tell him out loud what it was you were feeling or needed for him to pick up on it.

“But you didn’t.”

“I didn’t,” you finally say.

“No…” his eyes take on the thoughtful look he gets, the one that makes you wish you could read his mind sometimes, read the wonderings of that brilliant mind like one of your textbooks. “Instead, you became a splendid and thoughtful physician. A seemingly impossible thing, no? Now, with the state of the world for you to have pieced together a vocation such as this…” his milky blue eyes glint with humor, pride, “Well, it’s all very impressive, my dear.”

“Thank you,” you acknowledge.

“And even more impressive, considering the fact, that had you been given a choice in the matter, you would never have chosen this for yourself… had the world been different, normal.” And there it is again, that keen sense of knowing.

“Yes.” There is nothing more to say. It is, after all, your most painful, most honest, most shameful truth. Painful, not in the sense that you carried any regret now, when you cared for your patients, when you put the knowledge your father and Connie had given you into practice. But painful in the sense that it chafed at your skin, that desire for other . That small seed that had the great potential of growth within you, to spread like ivy around a house, and squeeze, squeeze, squeeze, until all you were left with were thoughts of what could have been.

“But like I said… your father was an exacting man, and this is what he chose for you. And then, perhaps, even I played a part in that same theft of choice from you.” You try to interrupt him then, to vehemently deny it, but he continues unheeded. “You got here and you seemed to be a sort of benediction to me. A vessel for all the knowledge I could impart on you. A shepherd I could leave this flock to.” He slips his glasses off the bridge of his nose and wipes them slowly with the hem of his sweater. “I know you’ll take good care of them when I’m no longer here. That they could not have ended up in better, more caring hands.” You hate when he talks about his dying, fills you with a premonitory dread you don’t know how you’ll cope with when it becomes actuality. “But alas, you did what was set upon you, took it all in stride.” He pauses, as if contemplating what he’s about to say next, and you know the point of all this has arrived. You even know where it is he’s going with this.

“I say all this, my dear, not to dredge up old painful memories, or reminders of what could have been… But because I would not like to see your choices taken from you once again.” And there it is. He levels his gaze at you, quiet for several moments, and it’s like he is here in the room with you now, his presence, his unsaid name heavy and poignant.

“Joel’s a good man, honey, but he’s a hurt man. Hurt in a way I don’t think even you could cure.”

Your instinct to defend him is immediate. “He’s not— he’s not a hurt man.” You shake your head, brow furrowed, “He’s been hurt before, but it doesn’t define him, Connie. It’s not the sole contributor to who he is.” And that’s true, you know it is. Believe it to your very core. You, who knows Joel better than few others, you know the pains of his past don’t define him. Perhaps before, they did. A pain so acute it molded him into a creature focused only on survival, or perhaps, he let it get the better of him at times. But he is so much more than all that. Has the strength and the will to set it aside when he so chooses to. Ellie being the perfect example of that.

Choices, choices, those were the things that defined a person.

“Isn’t it? You can’t live off the potential you see in someone forever.”

“I hate it when you say that.” You sit up, let your feet drop to the floor, and lean forward to stress your point. “What are we all, if not vessels of untapped potential? We’re all just walking around with the possibility of something more inside of us. Of course, of course I value the potential I see in him! I know he has the possibility of so, so much inside of him – that’s what makes me… That’s why I –” You cut yourself off before you can make that confession, a choked sound leaving your throat. You look out the nearby window at the dark street, press your thumb hard into the center of your forehead, will the tension and frustration out of the skin and bone.

“I know… I know,” he says gently, offering you his hands, palms up – a sign of concession. “But it’s not enough to hang all your hopes and dreams on just that. I want more for you than just that . I want you to have choices. To be able to have what you truly want, what you truly need. I would not like to know that something unfulfilling has been forced upon you once again by the circumstances of this world.” And he says it so sadly, with a look of such tenderness in his eyes, it makes embarrassment burn hot and red in your cheeks. The back of your eyes pinch. What must they all think of me when they see us together? The part that perhaps does, or should, make you the most embarrassed, is that you don’t really care at all. Not in any substantial way that would make a real difference, make you act differently. “I’m not unfulfilled, Connie. I love what we do here,” you say softly.

“I know that, I know. But still…I just–”

You rest your aching head in your cupped palms, bent elbows propped on your knees. You’re so fucking tired. “Connie, please, I know…” you whisper. “Just, please, no more tonight… I’m exhausted. You can tell me all this another time – tomorrow. Just no more tonight.”

“Alright, alright, dear. I’m sorry. I don’t mean to give you grief.” He stands, comes towards you to rest a gentle palm on your shoulder.

“I know… and you’re not… It’s me.”

“I only want good things for you, darling girl.” You press your hand over his on your shoulder, give a short nod.

“Go home – you need rest. Nancy will stay with them.”

“I can sit for a few more hours. Teddy likes to know I’m here.”

“No, no,” his voice takes on that stern fatherly tone he likes to whip you into shape with sometimes. “Enough for tonight. They’ll both be fine. You’ll see them tomorrow.”

You scrunch your nose at him, “Bossy.” But you stand to go, draping the blanket over the back of the chair. He pulls you in for a hug then, envelops you in the comfort and steadiness he’s always offered you, from the very start. He always smells faintly of peppermint and mothballs and old paper. “It’ll all work itself out, my dear. You’ll find a way. You always do. I’m not worried about that.”

Joel watches you leave the clinic from his spot in the shadows across the road. He’s been posted here, obstinate and pissed off with himself, for hours. Especially because he’s certain this must be a new low for him, sulking in the dark, watching for you like a creep. But he just wanted to be close to you. He knows you lied to put him off earlier. Your conversation had left him unsatisfied, restless. He knows you’re pulling away because he’s pulling away. Because he’s putting you off, and he tells himself he’ll give you space, tells himself that’s what’s best, but knows it’s a lie as he thinks it.

The thing is, despite his obstinance, Joel was not a man who lacked self awareness. He was, in fact, very good at recognizing a thing within himself, and yet still able to make a conscious decision to feign ignorance towards it to the outside world. This set up worked well for him – sometimes … on occasion… But this was different, and he knew it. Feigning ignorance would not work between the two of you for much longer. You were getting tired and sad and frustrated with him and he could see it and hated himself for being the cause of it. And if he was being honest with himself, which in this moment, he was trying to be, he was getting tired of it too, tired of himself. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d been in this position with a woman. On the verge of … something. Something he couldn’t confess, even to himself, yet. But to allow himself that, to allow himself the simple act of even admitting what he knew was the truth of his feelings for you – there was a part of him, a very broken part that had not been used in a long, long time, that couldn’t even imagine it. To allow himself that sort of vulnerability. To allow himself the truth of there existing another person in this world, in what this world had become, a partner – a woman he cared for, needed . It was too vulnerable, too precious a thing to allow himself. Perhaps before, perhaps in a world not overrun by death and disease and violence – by loss.

But what did that even look like anymore? A world bereft of monstrousness? Wiped clean of the beasts that had overtaken it, human or infected. Could Joel even remember such a thing – even imagine it, if only in his dreams? He couldn’t even discern which of the two was worse anymore. Part of him knew it didn’t really matter. Not in the end. It was all conjecture when it came down to losing your life – losing the person you loved. Whether it was fungus or a bullet – dead was dead.

Sometimes he didn't even feel like a person anymore. Just this thing that existed at the periphery of the world. In the moments when he pushed you away, when he turned from the loving look in your face, forced himself to brush off your words and your affection, to hold you at arms length – to protect the vulnerable, scarred mass of his heart – those were the moments in which he was most like a creature, least like a man.

He thought of a world where he felt safe enough to go to the woman he loved, his Birdie, hold you in his arms and say: here is everything I have for you, I’m begging you, please take it .

Such a world didn’t exist in Joel’s mind. Couldn’t fit. He’d been stripped of the ability. To have something so vulnerable and new. A type of fragile he’d not held since his twelve year old daughter lay bleeding and broken in his arms, and have the ability to say I am strong enough to endure the possible loss of this. I need you this badly. So badly I am willing to risk even my own heart.

It looked like trying to swallow the sea.

He follows you home in the darkness.

“You get that fixed alright?” Joel’s voice barks from the mouth of the garage. You startle, your knee slamming into the underside of the workbench. Deciding to follow through on Connie’s suggestion from yesterday, you’d come to see Noah, knocking on his door bright and early this morning, Bovie clutched in your hands. He’d been more than happy to give it a look for you. The two of you had been sitting here for about an hour now, and in that time you’d seen Joel’s form stalk by at least three times, from out of the corner of your eye. Absurd man that he was, you knew he’d been psyching himself up to barge in here and interrupt the two of you. Seemed he’d brought his attitude with him.

“Jesus, man–” Noah’s hand grips your smarting knee, rubbing it gently, “We didn’t hear you come up.” Joel’s left eye twitches at the we, his gaze zeroed in on the hand on your knee, his teeth bared in the perpetuation of a ridiculous growl as he takes a threatening step forward. You lift your brows at him – all your fire and fight from yesterday put to rest now after some much needed sleep. He cocks his brow back at you, shifts his jaw side to side in annoyance.

“Absorbed in your work?” he drawls sardonically.

“We’ve made some good progress actually! Come see,” Noah says, completely missing Joel’s mocking tone, the poor thing. He gives your knee another gentle pat, and you think you might just see steam come out of Joel’s ears. He steps up behind you, chest pressed close to your back and passes a hand over your hair, presses a kiss to the crown of your head. This fucking guy. Now he feels like getting handsy. You scrunch your nose at him, turning back to face Noah and the Bovie, your shoulder pressing into Joel’s belly. Noah takes in your positions, the possessive hand now curled around your neck – looks back down at the knee he’d just grabbed and then back to Joel’s broad intimidating form and scowling face. You see a slow swallow move through his throat. As he starts to explain the changes the two of you had made to the electrocautery generator, you consider the differences between the two of them. The contrast is stark. Noah isn’t small by any means, average height, a nice build – but there’s something about Joel. Some sort of warning in the air around him, in the space he takes up in a room, that makes him larger than life – something that says don’t fuck with me or mine. Heat pools low in your belly and you press your thighs together tightly. Fucked up, you’re fucked up – you try to brush his hand off your neck – suddenly feeling overwhelmed, your skin overly sensitized. “Quit –” he says low in your ear and you almost whimper. He’s jealous, and it’s turning you on. There’s definitely something wrong with you.

You try to shake him off again,“ Let go.”

“No.” His voice is steel. Noah is heedlessly going on about the Bovie, about how it only took a slight rewiring from the generator into the hand-piece without overwhelming the system; giving it the little bump of power it was missing. Joel’s thumb brushes a slow, warning path up and down your neck. Down, down, to the top notch of your vertebrae, slowly kneading the fine muscles surrounding the prominence of your bone and then up and pushing into the base of your skull. His hands are warm and dry – the rough calluses abrading your sensitive skin. You feel the flush in your cheeks traveling down over your chest, the tips of your breasts tightening to painful points. You see Joel’s eyes flicker down, taking you in, and he gives a contemplative hum low in his throat.

“I’m so glad you let me help,” Noah says with a warm smile. He’s sweet and so genuine and as you take him in, how completely unaware he is of the silent struggle going on between you and Joel right in front of him, you’re struck by how easy loving a man like that would be. And how unfulfilling for a woman like you. What is it about some people, that they can’t appreciate a good thing unless it hurts a little?

“Connie and I are real grateful that you could help. You let us know if there’s anything we can do for you.” Joel gives him a short nod as you leave.

And then, soft and threatening into the shell of your ear as the two of you walk away from the nice, sweet, uncomplicated boy: we’re goin’ home, and I’m gonna lick that cunt until you’re cryin’, little bird.

Your steps speed up, trying to outrun the clutch of his hands on your skin, trying to escape – even if just a little.

You never stood a chance of that.

He follows, menacingly on your heels, as you dart into your house. A rabbit trying to outrun the big bad wolf. You make for the stairs and you feel the tips of his fingers ghost lightly in the ends of your long hair, one foot on the first step, but then his finger is catching in your belt loop, yanking you hard into his chest. Your back thumps against him with a small oof and then his hands are skating along your curves, big palms squeezing your breasts, pinching your nipples through the cotton of your t-shirt..

“Bad Birdie, try’na run from me.” He nuzzles, gentle, gentle into the nape of your neck, the line of your hair, presses his mouth to the top notch of your spine. You feel his hot, wet tongue slide over the jut of your vertebrae, small peppered kisses to your nape and your entire body flushes hot – arousal pulling low and tight in your belly. Your clit throbs in time with his panting breath in your ear. His soft mouth is totally at odds with the tension he’s holding himself with right now, the harsh way he presses his fingers into the skin of your hips.

You can feel the thick length of him pressing into your ass; he’s hard as stone and throbbing – turned on by the chase. You moan, deep and wanton, slick pooling in your panties, ready for him now , just at the feel of his hands on you. “You want it, baby?”

“Y– yes,” you stutter, pressing yourself harder into him.

“Want me to fuck that needy little cunt?”

His voice is so deep you feel it vibrate through his chest and into your back, down, down your body all the way to the tips of your toes. “Please, Joel,” you whimper. You try to turn in his arms, but he clicks his tongue at you, wrapping his arms more tightly around your waist, half dragging, half carrying you up the stairs to your bedroom.

“I always give my Birdie what she needs, don’t I?”

“Settle now. Stay still so I can eat you how I like.” He hitches his hands higher up the backs of your thighs, beneath your knees – spreads you further apart, up and back to press into your breasts, making more space for the broad valley of his naked shoulders. He’d gotten you naked and into bed, quick as a viper. His desperation, evident in the wild look in his eyes. He was unsettled, either by the tension between the two of you yesterday or you around another man, but he was trying to prove some unspoken point to the two of you in the ferocity of his grip on your skin.

He settles his face deep into your sex now and eats. “Who’s all this wet for, huh? Were you thinkin’ about me while that boy tried to get in your good graces?”

“It’s too much. Please, please, please,” you sob. Tears making a slow, steady journey back into your hairline, dripping into your ears. You yank hard on his hair, try to direct his movements. You can’t tell if you’re trying to push him away or pull him closer.

“Want me to stop?” He laps at your clit.

“I– I dont– I don’t know–” It felt like he’d been at this for hours. “I–”

“It’s okay.” Soft, whispered kisses to the puffy lips of your sex, your slippery inner thighs. You’re so wet, and you’d have burns from his beard and bruises from his teeth tomorrow. “I know, I know you’re just a little bird,” his teeth sharp and mean to the softest part of you, then the broad flat of his tongue to soothe – a sharp, quick suck to your swollen clit. His volley between rough and tender on your vulnerable sex setting you further on edge than anything else he was doing. “But you can take it for me.You can be so, so good for me. My good girl.”

Your cunt pulls tight – throbs like a wound. Hurts in a way you’re desperate for. You love him, you love him, you love him. Goddamn the things he does to you, makes you feel. You need him so much and he gives it all to you exactly in the way that’s the most perfect, just for you. You feel fucking delirious, on the brink of insanity.

He pushes two thick fingers into you, cunt spasming and clinging. He scissors the digits inside of you, stretches your hole. The squelch is lewd and obscene and messy. You can feel your cheeks burning red and hot, and you throw an arm over your eyes as you feel your slick leak down between your ass to pool on the sheets beneath you – hiding yourself from your own obscenity.

“Pussy s’fuckin’ good, baby. Tastes like candy.” He pulls out his fingers, slaps your cunt, twice, quick and sharp. The sound you let out shames you, high pitched and whining. “Fuckin’ red ‘nd gaping for me. God, Birdie –” he moans so deep it makes your heart race, brings his mouth back to you – licks a broad stripe from hole to clit with the flat of his tongue. His mouth latches to the aching swollen bud and sucks. “You need me so much dont you? Fuckin’ come in my mouth – wanna taste it.” And he’s right, he’s right, you do, you need him so much. In that instant, you feel so grateful that he knows it.

Your back arches, everything liquid within you pooling low in your pelvis, pulling tight, and it feels like the world is about to end around you; a catastrophe even greater than anything the cordyceps could have ever wrought. This is what he brings out of you with his mouth and his fingers and his words, and you gush onto his face. He almost fucking whines at the splash of your orgasm on his tongue – slurping down everything you have to give him, you feel your wetness cover his face and beard. This is what you give to each other.

He gentles his fingers and tongue. Letting your orgasm coast along into echoes and throbs. You try to push him away with your foot on the thick mass of his shoulder, on the brink of overstimulation, but quick as a viper, he circles his entire large palm around the fine bones of your ankle and squeezes. Quit – presses a tiny kiss to the protrusion of your bone there.

“ Mine,” he growls. “Mine, no one touches you but me–” His hands open you wider for him, fileting you for his eyes only. You feel hot and flush, your skin tight, to the point of bursting, like an overripe plum in the sun. Skin fragile and thin, insides viscous, ready to spill your flesh for him, blood burning hot as it churns in your veins. “Not fuckin’ done yet, Birdie. Not done with this perfect pussy.” Tears make a slow path down your temples, your fingers tangled in his hair, wanting to hurt– just a little. Like the delicious hurt of holding him within yourself. The way it feels like an old aching bruise inside of you when he stuffs you full of his cock. And then he’s up, up, up – quick as a whip – his fingers shoving into the tangle of your hair at the nape of your neck, captured in a tight fist like prey in a snare, and he’s shoving your own taste deep into you with his tongue. The kiss, open and savage – he’s fucking your mouth like he was just fucking your pussy. Your heart pushes against the bones of your chest, and you desperately clutch at his shoulders for some sort of countenance. He unmoors you . You have been unmoored by this man. And you want – need – more.

He kneels between your open legs, thick thighs anchoring you wider and fists his cock, the head gleaming and painfully red. He pulls your thighs over his own thicker ones, and presses the fat tip hard to your sensitive clit, making you jolt and whimper pathetically. “Cock drunk, that’s what you are.” All you can do is nod dumbly, eyes glassy and wet. His voice is so deep. He drags the head down to your entrance, presses just a little, only the fat tip held inside you. He fucks you short and shallow like that, his hips moving in tiny, slow jerks.

“Please,” you sigh, your eyes fluttering shut at the subtle pressure, at the promise of what’s about to come, “Please, Joel.”

“Please what? Please what?” he mocks, just a little mean, and then he’s surging inside in one brutal thrust. Fucking into you without warning and he’s huge — almost too much to take, even after your orgasms. “Fucking tight,” he grits out. He hoists you up, arms wrapped around your waist and starts fucking up and into you, hard. Not giving you a moment to adjust. Letting go of the restraint he’d held while he ate you out. Cock battering into something deep and sensitive inside you, all you can do is take it. Let him have you as he pleases.

He can feel your slick pooling at the base of his cock and sliding down his balls. He wraps his hand around the fine bones of your jaw, “Who’s pussy is this?” he growls over the wet slap, “Wanna hear it out loud.”

Yours, yours, yours.

Your face is flushed and sweaty, cheeks red as an apple, eyes glazed, dark, wet lashes clumped together. The fucked out look in your eyes doing more for him than anything else. This is what he does to you, only him . He picks up the pace of his hips, fucks you harder, harder and your tits bounce against his chest. He slaps one of them gently, appreciating the soft jiggle it gives, the small gasp you let out. His other hand snakes low on your tummy and presses down into your pelvis so he can feel the battering of his cock inside of your cunt and shit he’s gonna come soon. Gonna come with his hand feeling himself fuck you from the outside. “Too much, too much, Joel ,” you whine. “Oh god, I– I’m gonna–” You’re soaked, sweat and slick sliding between your two bodies, and clutching him hot and tight as a fist. He can’t get deep enough, can’t give it to you hard enough. He never wants to stop, will never be able to stop.

“You’re taking my cock so good, so fucking good. Jesus fuck, I can’t, I can’t–” He slates his mouth over your open panting one, licks into the sweet, red gleam of you. Your arms wrap around his neck, and he drags his teeth along your full bottom lip, lets it go with a little wet pop. You moan, head falling back on your neck, beyond words. He bends his head, hand wrapped around the fullness of your tit to bring it to his mouth, bites gently down on the tight, aching bud, laves his tongue around it and sucks it into his mouth. Then he’s pushing you back, letting you fall and bounce onto the mattress, legs splayed. When he pulls out abruptly you whimper – he can’t let himself come yet, not yet, just a little more – and he leaves a hot trail of open mouth kisses down your neck, over your shoulder, sucking the peak of your breast into his mouth again, over the swell of your belly, until he’s between your thighs again and bends his head to devour your slick. His tongue licking deep inside where his cock just was. He’s frantic. There’s no reason to the sense of urgency he feels, the urgency he’s taking you with right now. It’s something subconscious – something primal telling him to mark you, lay his claim.

He can’t stop taking and taking, always taking.

He pulls up again from between your legs, the abruptness of his movements confusing you, leaving you to deliriously allow him to do with you what he will. “Taste us,” he says as he licks into your mouth, fucking his aching cock back into your spent cunt, so fucking tight always. “One more, baby. Gimme one more, lemme feel you milk me.” And like his own personal little marionette on a string, you do. Pussy fluttering and then pulling tight, a little furl of a knot, squeezing his own orgasm out of him. He feels his balls pull up tight and he’s painting you inside, teeth latched tightly to the delicate muscle that connects your neck and shoulder. The sound from your throat is high and keening, supplicant. He licks the hurt he’s just left. Grinds his spitting cock deep, right into the mouth of your womb.

Mine, mine, fucking mine. It is a mantra of reassurance for the both of you.

He cradles you in his embrace afterwards, his body wrapped around you as if he were a vine grown from your very heart. He sighs, the sound deep from his chest, and you want to tell yourself you can hear a yearning desperate enough to match your own in the cadence of it. His head drops to your shoulder, nuzzles the vulnerable space beneath your jaw, now riddled with his bites and bruises. You know you’ll enjoy inspecting them in the mirror tomorrow, feeling the warm pull of your belly at the reminder. And the moment is so achingly tender, even more intimate in a way, than your sex. The feel of him surrounding you, soft and quiet. Your eyes feel hot, pinching threateningly.

“I have to go,” he murmurs, spent cock still buried inside of you. He presses kisses to your hair, your lips, over your closed eyelids. He can’t stop, God, he’s tried – is trying – but he can’t go, can’t part from you. Fighting is so fucking hard when you’ve got no will behind it. When what you’re trying to fight against is the thing you’ve wanted more than anything else in your whole life, and the only thing standing in your way is yourself, your own inadequacy. Perhaps he could endure the agony, the filth of life, the loss, the loss, the loss, with you held in his arms like this.

His patrol shift started almost an hour ago. The guys were going to ream the hell out of him, he’d been here with you for hours, and still, still he couldn’t stop, couldn’t pull himself away. His lack of will, lack of restraint, of self control – his body and heart’s inability to do what his mind told him to, makes him so angry. At himself, and maybe – not at you, never you – but perhaps, at what you represented. All he wanted but couldn’t let himself have in full. He needed to go. He had responsibilities. He had truths to confess to himself.

He was in love with you. He was. He was.

Joel was an obstinate man, but he did not lack self awareness. Now was the moment for this truth, if only confessed to himself. So, angry, and in love with you, and tremendously sorry, he turns away. Pulls out of your tight wet clutch with a wince, your breathy gasp making his cock twitch slightly, even so soon after he’s just come. You roll over, burrow into the pillows, and he grips the swell of your ass, pulls you apart to feast on the sight of his come leaking out of you. Obscene. Wet and messy and swollen, marked by his spend. He wants to bend for a taste but knows if he does, he won’t stop, will be likely to start all over again. “I gotta go, Birdie. M’already late.” He bends to nip a gentle bite to your ass cheek, one small last taste, then the press of a kiss. He hopes you can feel all he cannot say with that touch. The soft sound of acquiescence you hum as you burrow further into the sheets has his teeth clenching as he reaches for his clothes, heart turning over in his chest. He’s sure every sound out of you has a direct connection to his cock at this point.

He won’t shower, won’t wash your drying come from his body. He’ll take you with him, wear you on his skin. Anyways, what did it matter, really, when he already wore you on his heart, his soul? What was one more conquering of his self? Perhaps this was, ultimately, what swallowing the sea looked like.

Chapter III

Netherfeildren Masterlist

#joel miller #pedro pascal #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller smut #joel miller fic #joel miller angst #joel miller/reader #joel miller/you #tlou fic #tlou fanfiction #the last of us fic #joel miller fanfiction #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal fanfiction #FOG fic

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embodyingchaos · 1 year

Note

Hiiiii can I request something fluff with abner krill like maybe dating headcanons ( Ik it’s pretty basic but I’m a sucker for them 😭) honestly anything that’s fluffy and cute lol

❥ hi there, darling! MY BABY ABNER KRILL AAAAAA ofc i can write dating hcs for THE polka-dot man! i hope you enjoy them! (I'M SORRY THAT THEY'RE SORTA LONG)

dating polka-dot man a.k.a abner krill headcanons warnings: mentions of abuse, panic attacks, ptsd, a bit suggestive at the end HEHEH

OKAY OKAY SO, i would say that abner would definitely not be the one to ask you out first, and if he did, he would be a stuttering mess like “w-would y-you maybe think about.. going on a date?” and you’d be like oh yeah totally, with who? and then he’ll be like “with me” AND HE’D WHISPER IT REALLY SOFTLY AND YOU’D BE LIKE “OH- OH MY GOD YES” HEEHEH

and then every where you guys go for your dates, he would overthink every little thing, like did he pick the right place? did he order the right meal? do you like this kind of thing or should he have asked you where you wanna go and you’ll answer the same thing every time “anywhere is good enough as long as it’s with you” AND HE’D BE BEET RED LIKE BLUSHING CRAZY

abner would definitely be tense for the first few dates before slowly loosening up and relaxing, but even that will take a while

dating abner might be tiring at times, he constantly questions why you’re with someone like him, he’ll constantly be worried that you’ll leave him, but all in all, you’re willing to reassure him with words of affirmation

abner definitely calls you babe, or baby, or just by your name, he doesn’t strike me as a nick name type

though, if you call him any nickname like darling, sweetheart, my love, HE WILL MELT, BE IT IN YOUR ARMS OR ONTO THE FLOOR, HE’LL GET FLUSTERED AND HIDE HIS FACE IN ANY WAY AAAAAA

abner is definitely a little spoon, he feels safe and comfortable in your arms, and every time he’s having a panic attack or ptsd hits, the best way to calm him is to embrace him

he would get nightmares in the middle of the night about his mother abusing him all over again but it would be okay because you're there to hold him tight and tell him that she can't hurt him anymore

he would do the same for you if you had a nightmare or a troubling past, he wouldn't know what to say, but i'd feel like he'd memorise the things you say to him and then repeat them back to you, because he learned from the best ofc

i’d think he gets a little bit jealous, but he trusts you, but yk when insecurity hits, everything just gets a little foggy, he doesn’t want to tell you because he doesn’t want to be a nuisance but you can tell, you’d always kiss his cheek when you know he’s feeling a tad bit insecure and that brightens him up real quick

abner will protect you in any way he can, even if he knows he isn’t that physically strong to win in a fight, he’ll defend you and your honour any time

though usually it’s you who protects him by standing up to people who call him names or are rude to him, he has to calm you down and pull you away so you’d stop cussing at them

i am not including when he’s put in belle reve bc in my headcanons, he doesn’t get sent to prison for murdering his abusive and insane mother bc she definitely had it coming

I WOULD LIKE TO HEADCANON THAT THERE WAS THIS ONE TIME YOU TRIED ON HIS POLKA-DOT MAN SUIT BECAUSE YOU WERE CURIOUS HOW IT WOULD LOOK ON YOU, and he walks in on you and he’s like :0 jaw-dropped, eyes wide open, and you’re like “oh you’re back! i wanted to see how your suit looked on me! i think i look pretty cooOOL-!” yeah, uh, you’re way too attractive for your own good, good luck for the night

#polka dot man #suicide squad 2 #abner krill #abner krill x reader #abner krill headcanons #abner krill oneshot #abner krill imagines #gender neutral #polka dot man x reader #polka dot man headcanons #suicide squad 2 headcanons #reader insert #dating headcanons #abner krill masterlist #polka dot man masterlist #david dastmalchian #david dastmalchian x reader #david dastmalchian masterlist

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kymiya · 9 months

Text

geordi n cutie (moreso geordi) cuddling headcanons

(because i'm sick of only having angst on my feed)

so lets start off with the basics

geordi is the BIGGEST cuddler like

ever

when hes next to cutie on the couch or the bed

IMMEDIATELY wrapped up beside them

and its the cutest thing on earth

like hes got blankets pulled up and asking cutie if they want snacks

do they need water

literally whatever

hes the whole package

he is going to make sure they are both comfortable when they cuddle

checking in w/ them constantly

making sure they’re not too hot or cold

giving them kisses

SO many kisses

forehead

the cheek

neck

anywhere he can reach he’ll kiss

UGHH hes so sweet i hate him/j

those weren’t really basic (they were) but anyway

was kinda arguing with myself bc i couldn’t really figure out if geordi would be a big spoon or little spoon

and honestly

he dgaf 💀

he couldn’t care less

literally as long as they are within close proximity

there won’t be a single complaint

if cutie wants to be big spoon: 🫶

if cutie wants to be little spoon: 🫶

he absolutely adores being wrapped up with them

especially in winter

AND ITS SNOWING??

holy shit he just blew up

like he just exploded

cutie being an empowered mf and being able to produce fire (and

whatever else)

their body can and will be used as a heater

all i can think about is them laying down on the couch

hot cocoa (or your preferred drink in the winter) on the coffee table,

still steaming

a heavy ass blanket on top of both of them

cutie laying on their back with their arms thrown around geordi’s neck, occasionally kissing the top of his head

or one hand in his hair (also big hc of mine: geordi has curly hair), playing with it and softly pulling out small knots

as geordi is literally in heaven with his personal oven, body on top of cutie’s with his arms circled around cutie’s back

his head on on their chest, listening to their heartbeat as they watch home alone for the 46th time

EWW theyre so gross i wanna eat them

moving on from that

i also feel like geordi is super playful

he bites

affectionately

he cannot contain his love

his absolute infatuation

to just bite them

AND ITS SO RANDOM

like its not like he’d be kissing cutie n then it would turn into bites

its just out of nowhere 😭

nd if cutie isn’t reading his mind

omg i forgot about cutie actually being able to read minds bye

ill get onto that later

BUT

when cutie isn’t in geordi’s mind

they literally jump

its not like he was trying to bite a chunk out of them

but still 💀

also if cutie decides to get up during any of their cuddling sessions

he will drag them back

he’ll have a war in his mind about being clingy or too much

but he’ll still drag them back

especially when they just got comfortable??

like where tf are u going?? 🤨

i love my silly little overthinker

and back to when cutie’s in his mind

its mental warfare

specifically early into the relationship

imagine the first time they’re cuddling

jesus

he’s actually panicking so bad

like they barely get situated

and he’s just

“oh my god”

“what am i doing?”

“why am i doing?”

“where do i put my hands?”

“is this an awkward angle?”

“i can’t”

“why is this so difficult??”

“they’re so warm”

“and they smell good”

“ew now you sound like creep”

“but they’re my partner?”

“don’t care, still weird”

“i’ve done this before, why can’t i just”

“..just what?”

“just, i just want to just”

something like that

but his thoughts probably go silent when cutie cover both of them in a warm blanket n snuggle up close to him

his mind literally goes blank

hes so smitten its crazy

but later down the road he’s gotten more accustomed to cuddling and doesn’t question his life after a single hug

he gives cutie small praises in his mind

especially after they’ve had a long ass day at work

he’s willing to help them relax

drinks, something to eat, words of affirmation, kisses, massage, bath

anything for cutie to be at ease

all in all hes perfect and i want him

if somebody out there is exactly like geordi hmu 🤭

i think thats it, that was such a brain dump

i need myself a geordi within the next 2 minutes or else im gonna implode/srs

i have so much in my brain its insane

probably gonna post more since im on break 🤷🏾‍♀️

#redacted geordi #redacted cutie #redacted asmr #redacted audio #redactedverse #im so obsessed with them #help

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sh1-n0bu · 2 years

Note

Hey God it's me again. Back by nobody's request once again: Me, 🦝.

Can we talk about Heizou?

Trick question. I WILL talk about Heizou and YOU WILL listen.

I like him so much the little skrunkly Mr canon daddy issues. Mr I want my father to be proud of me and it hurts. Mr I need to be the best and I'll still not be enough.

I love him a lot. I know I'm usually here to be horny but tbh today I'm not. I just feel bad for him. We all talk about Kazuha's my-best-friend-died-in-my-arms story but Heizou's is completely ignored. It's the ptsd for me. It's the family issues for me. It's the other people have a false image of the nature of his being for me. It's the hidden insecurities, the silent overthinking for me. Like bro did anyone ever pay attention to how careful he is with the traveler because he doesn't want to scare them off. It's the no friends (only mildly derogatory) for me.

It's the everything for me. My brain pointed at this little dude and went "that one" and now I think about him. All the time. I just want to hold him. Like bestie is u good? Do you need a hug? Some comfort? Some therapy? I will smooch him very lovingly mwah mwah

✿ 𝙨𝙖𝙛𝙚 𝙞𝙣 𝙮𝙤𝙪𝙧 𝙖𝙧𝙢𝙨 ✿

characters: heizou x nb!reader

warnings: angst, fluff, PTSD, reverse comfort, insecurity, heizou’s just having a very very bad day😢reader and heizou’s not in a relationship yet

notes: SAME 🦝 NONNIE! i’ve reached friendship lvl10 with heizou and i read all stories of the characters whether i like them or not and heizou’s just made me cry😭😭😭 his only friend died out in public, in his arms, saying “i… i came to see you too”. i just cosnfijdnfjsjf

also i wrote this while listening to mitski and shed good few tears here and there 🦝 anon😔👍

detective shikanoin heizou of the tenryou commission is a name that’s widely known for it’s incredible intelligence, witty remarks and boy-ish charms. however that’s not all there is of heizou.

at 2 in the morning, when someone knocks on your door and wakes you up from your nice dreams, it’s safe to say that you’re ready to throw hands unless it’s an emergency. but then again almost every time you’re awoken at an unholy hours is because it’s an emergency.

‘this better be something good ‘cause i have a long day of commissions tomorrow’ throwing on a haori on top of your loose yukata, stumbling to the front door of your little house, the least person you expected to wake you up was the renowned detective of the tenryou commission.

immediately thinking of what you did that could’ve been considered law-breaking, one came into mind. but hey, you had to sock that guy because he was troubling the traveler when they were on the brink of collapsing!

“…hey, sorry to wake you up so late” heizou’s voice snapped you out of your little mind-ramble.

“oh no, it’s fine. would you like to come in?” nodding and quietly shuffling into your house, heizou seemed just so… quiet. most of the times he would spend time with you, he would be rambling about the newest case he got, how the criminals are getting dumber and dumber everyday or just about things in general.

asking him if he would like something to drink and sitting in your kitchen at 2am with the detective just silently staring at his glass of water was concerning. moreover there were dry tear tracks on his face and his clothes seemed half-heartedly thrown on.

after a while of just sitting in a deafening silence, heizou started to talk. about how he wants to be seen as the perfect reliable detective, how he wants his dad to be proud of him, about how his only childhood friend was a fraud and a thief, how after a year of staying out of contact, he met his friend again only for them to be bleeding out on the side of the road of the festival.

when recalling how his only friend had told him he wanted to see him as well, while holding a bloodied green pebble from his wallet which had no mora, only the pebble, the tears that filled his eyes fell. choking on his words, trying to apologize for dumping all of his problems on you, this was also heizou.

the same shikanoin heizou that throws around flirty remarks with you. the same shikanoin heizou that catches criminals left and right like they were just passing by him in the streets. the same shikanoin heizou who proudly declared he wanted to stop evil.

“i-i’m sorry hic i didn’t mean to dump-oomf!” being held close to your chest and telling him it was okay and that you understand was the last breaking point for him. sobbing out loudly like a child and clinging to you like a lifeline, this was also shikanoin heizou. your heizou.

after exhausting all his strength, you simply carried him to your bed for him to rest.

to heizou he felt like he was being gently cradled by the sun. so soft, warm and inviting.

to heizou, you were the only one to truly see who he was and not run away.

to heizou, you are the one he fell for and damn did he fell for the perfect person.

to heizou, your arms felt like home.

#nobu.writes #shikanoin heizou #heizou x reader #genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader angst #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact x reader fluff #heizou x reader fluff #heizou x reader reverse comfort #no beta we die like rex lapis #🦝 anon

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noxtivagus · 2 years

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ffxiv brainrot...... wait 🥹

#🌙.rambles #cute wol dynamics i wna write more abt that thing i wrote way back #thinking abt it gets me a bit flustered wtf but it's still cute until now #i got chills thinking about what i'd write for Zero my beloved #cringe but free is my life. yes. yes !#the way i wrote the dynamic for haurchefant was so sad iirc #aymeric's was sweet n romantic #alphi's was . cute n shy. young ppl in love r so cute sob #oh god ffxiv brings me back to being like this yes . back to last year 🤍#i shld be productive but oh cmon that can wait #help there's so much i have to do i will. Explode #i wna get back into really reading again . n i need to manage my time so much better #FUCK NEW PATCH TMRRW N I HAVENT FINISHED MANDERVILLE I WILL CRY #no it's Fine haha i can. do it. at my own pace. sob. 😭😭#my mind is racing n i know rn this is just adding to me procrastinating #i shld get it all done but i don't want to....#sob no i said i'll push myself further starting this month. idc if it makes me incomfortable. sobbb #🥹 i'm gna go insane ! i stress myself out more by overthinking than anything else ffs #i really need to stop procrastinating. that's the problem i've developed over time #wait i'm getting off topic wait i wna ramble abt ffxiv 😭 but. wait no i cant do this while stressing out over sm things #my stomache n head aches wait holy shit i'm feeling anxious n overwhelmed there you go #stressed by the things i have to do. by the standards i've set for myself. expectations n responsibilities #first i need to prioritize these assignments. finish them then i'll eat lunch. huh. maybe i shld fix that wait oh no i haven't ate het #then . then what. wait there's so much to do oh no but i really need to look st the next step first. the rest can come after #i need to be better if i wna get far in life n really improve myself n do all that i want #each step matters. every moment. i need to be better. help maybe i'm pushing myself too hard but god it's not enough. it's still not enough #maybe the time pressure is even harsher rn bcs wooo i'm gna be older soon #i'm aware that it definitely feels like i'm growing older too quickly but. life's long. n i think i'll wlways be young at heart #with as young as i am i am proud of myself for already having a basic grasp of who j am n what i want. it'll develop even more in time #life's a journey. i shldn't be so hard on myself. BUT RN ITS SO HARD WAITTT BUT I CAN HANDLE THIS FUCK YEAH 😭🥹

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lvlystars · 1 year

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his birthday, his shitty navigation skills, and your paranoia! — c.sc

pairing. choi seungcheol x gn!reader

genre. fluff, a bit of panicking and reader overthinking and being paranoid.

summary. when your boyfriend trusts his ability to get his way around an unknown area, you can expect that all goes to shit.

warnings. none really :/

a/n. this is so poorly written i'm so sorry 😭. also happy (belated) birthday, seungcheol (aka my pookie 🫶🫶🫶)

wc. 1.1k

“those falls over there, they lead to–” you turn to notice that once again, seungcheol is not beside you. “oh my god.” you groan, rubbing your temple in an attempt to remember where you last saw him out of the corner of your eye, snacking on some shrimp chips he bought after lunch.

walking back to the café you both were previously at, you look around, hoping to find your boyfriend just wandering around the café, waiting for you to find him again. to your dismay, seungcheol was nowhere to be found, and knowing seungcheol, he trusted his poor navigation skills once again and got himself lost.

pulling out your phone, you dial his phone number, hoping that his phone was on ringer mode. as your phone rang on, your heart sinks as the line goes to voicemail, the panic settling in.

“fuck, where did this kid go?” you whisper, sending him a message to reply with his whereabouts.

you're startled when jeonghan’s caller id pops up, yelping out loud and making a few eyes turn to you. apologising and bowing, you walk away to pick up the call.

“jeonghan, we have a problem.” you mumble as soon as you slide the green icon, pressing the phone up to your ear.

“what? why?” he replies in a confused tone.

“i lost seungcheol.”

complete silence is heard on the other side of the line as you bite your nails—a habit that you never seemed to shake off, and a habit that seungcheol seemed to dislike, explaining that it’s not good for you and he loves seeing your nails “long and pretty”.

“y/n, what do you mean you lost–”

“I LOST SEUNGCHEOL.” you hiss. “i went out with him for brunch like you wanted me to, then we went to a café nearby and just chilled for a bit, before we went on a little stroll for fun! i don’t know how i lost him but i did!” you ramble, your breathing quickening as you take in the situation. possible scenarios pop up into your brain as you try to control your breathing, and it only induces your panic.

“y/n, honey. i need you to calm down first, and i want you to know that seungcheol just called me and said he’s at some park, so breathe.” you calm down when you heard that he was at least someplace safe and public. “second, he said he doesn’t know where the fuck he’s at and he sounds pretty scared which is really fucking funny when he prides himself in his apparently wonderful fucking navigation skills so that’s something to laugh about.” you hear jeonghan snicker on the other end of the line, making you roll your eyes.

“jeonghan, let him live, won’t you? he’s just…”

“full of himself? fuck yeah he is.” you scoff as you shake your head. “you’re so mean.” you chuckle. “alright. i’ll see if there’s any parks nearby and call you guys back if i find him.” you say before you cut the call and start walking around.

—

you’re now on the verge of tears when you approach a park full of children, all happily running around and sliding down slides.

you walk over to a nearby bench, shoving your head into your hands as you silently sob. you’ve never really been away from seungcheol like this in the 4 years you’ve been with him. well, yes you have, but you never lost him like this. you’d always manage to find him within an hour or so, and now, it’s been almost 3 hours since you lost seungcheol. there was no doubt that you were scared now. as more time passed by, the worse the scenarios in your head grew.

what if he got distracted by a dog on the street and got himself bitten? what if he met up with a friend and went on a coffee date with them, only to find out that he was a bad person and he hurt him? what if someone tried robbing him? what if he got hurt? what if–

the sound of a familiar giggle pulled you out of your thoughts, and you immediately look up.

lo and behold, your boyfriend, choi seungcheol, was playing around with some 5-year-olds on the playground, pushing them on the swings and laughing along with the children.

immediately getting up, you sigh out in relief and run over to seungcheol, tackling him in a hug and completely losing it.

“woah!” he laughs out, bringing one arm over your shoulder as you hide your face in the crook of his neck. “youdon’tknowhowlongittookformetofindyouiwassosca–”

“hey, hey.” seungcheol pulls out of the embrace and holds you by your shoulders and bends down to your eye level, bringing his hand up to your cheek to wipe away your tear that had fallen, adorning a stupidly dopey smile on his lips which almost immediately washed away all the anxiety and fear that once coursed through you.

slinging your arms around his neck once again, you held him tight as you planted a fat kiss on his cheek, making him giggle like a schoolboy as he snaked his arms around your waist, pressing you close to him. “i don’t even know how i lost you, baby.” seungcheol murmured into your hair as he squeezed your waist in a reassuring manner.

scrunching your eyebrows, you pull away and look up at your boyfriend, and he looks back at you, feigning an innocent face with playful nature underneath it. “you got lost yourself and you know that, you son of a–”

“ah! there are children here.” seungcheol presses his index finger on your lips, effectively hushing you. out of the corner of your eye, you spot jeonghan and joshua waving towards the two of you and making faces that clearly indicated that we have to get the fuck out of here because the restaurant reservation we made is in less than 10 minutes and we are 10 minutes away from the goddamn restaurant.

“cheol, honey.” you mumble, noticing that seungcheol was clearly leaning in for a kiss, despite the young audience around you. he hums, still leaning in, and you pull away, making his eyebrows furrow in confusion. you point behind him, and he turns, groaning when he notices the two.

“oh god,” he pinches his nose bridge. “they planned something and now they're late for it? what's it for? my birthday?” you slowly nod, sheepishly smiling. seungcheol widens his eyes as he connects the dots, and gasps.

“YOU WERE IN ON THIS?!”

“...happy birthday?”

tags 🏷️ –

@star1117-archives @kyeomyun @seonghwas-lighter @jaehunnyy @leo-seonghwa @wqnwoos

networks 🔗 –

@preciousillusions-net @caratsland @cacaokpop-fics @k-labels

SVT WORKS

send an ask or drop a comment if you want to be added to my general taglist!

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mrghostrat · 6 months

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Hello!

I've been a bit of a lurker for a few months (chronic overthinker when it comes to socializing lol), but I finally felt brave enough to actually say something today!

I'm SUCH a fan of both your writing and art! I stumbled on Mon Horrible Cherí one day on Tumblr and fell in love with the story and the beautiful art included. I started following you on tumblr after and seeing everything you create and tips you share got me super interested in making digital art myself. 😊

About two months ago, a friend gifted me their old iPad and I've been practicing basically daily with CSP! I really love it and have started feeling comfortable posting some of it on here and other socials, including a good omens art I'm super proud of! Since you basically helped me on my journey here, I felt like you deserved to know lol.

Tried not to ramble, just wanted to basically say thank you! Looking forward to BNF, ATWS, and anything else you create in the future! 😊

-Key

oh my god and it's BEAUTIFUL too 😭 i'm soso os os ososoo happy you've become inspired to create, and grateful to wanna share that with all of us. thank you so much. giving you the tightest hugs (whilst letting one arm be free so u can keep drawing while i cling to you)

#ask a rat #good omens/#also EYES EMOJI IN CLIP STUDIO PAINT.......#im so happy eeheeeee #look procreate is nice and can do things but #clip studio is everything to me #i want everyone to try clip studio

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meowriddler · 1 year

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Heyyy!!! Started reading your Edward stuff a little while ago and omg I love your writing! Was wonder if I could possibly request something with our boy Klitzy with a plus size!reader? Maybe Klitz finally has the balls to confess to reader and reader like rly rly likes him back but they’re like “but why me?” cause they’ve never really had anyone like them before? maybe they’re worried Klitz is just prancing them or smth? I’m projecting majorly rn I’m so sorry 😭

A/n: My beautiful lovely anon I deeply apologize for how late this request is, thank u for being my first request I really do hope u enjoy this ( also ur not projecting or anything luv dw )

( big shoutout to my best friend sky for helping me with this 🫶🥺)

Warnings: a hint of angst, both reader and klitz are a bit insecure

From the start~

Tim Klitz x plus size reader

Another year passes by and he still hasn’t uttered those three little words to you. You and Klitz have been friends ever since freshman year when you first came to the school, and being the new kid sucked with no one to talk to, you settled on just giving up. As all hope was lost, you felt a gentle tap on your shoulder. Looking back at the source, it was a cute but awkward-looking boy with this bowl haircut that his mom most likely did herself and those tiny little glasses that made him look more nerdy than ever. He flinches back as if you were the one who tapped him on the shoulder. He offers you a sheepish smile. His voice cracks a bit before speaking (that made you giggle). "Um, you must be the new student, well, obviously you are since the teacher literally just introduced you”. "Um, ok, that was a dumb question. "Anyways, I’m klitz,” he offered his hand for you to shake while smiling that damn smile, giving you butterflies.

That was how everything started. He introduced you to Matt and Eli (you had to admit you did not like Eli at the start with his crude comments on your body, which made Klitz want to throw hands with him).

But today was the day Klitz felt brave enough to confess to you (also from the constant harassment he gets from his friends to finally confess). He had everything planned out; he had texted you the night before to meet him in this beautiful park. Hopefully the green scenery would be romantic enough for you.

While Klitz was waiting for your arrival, he couldn't shake off that dreadful feeling of you not liking him back. In a way that he liked you, that is. He was ridden with overzealous anxieties about his confession, breaking your friendship apart. Too many what-if's and but's are running through his mind now, making him shake his head to get rid of the thoughts going through his head. As you showed up in the distance, his gaze averted to where you stood. There you were, in all of your glory, looking as breathtaking as ever. Kliz's vision started dissipating, but he drew in a slow, deep breath to keep his cool.   In the distance, you saw Klitz standing beside a park bench, detailed with wood and well-constructed metal. You could feel yourself getting nervous as well as he was ever since you got that text message from Klitz. The night before was still plaguing your mind with overthinking, wondering what could have been so important that he would have wanted to meet you at this really nice park all alone.   You walked towards him, your hands fidgeting slightly as your eyes scanned the park until they landed upon him.  "Hey, Klitzy!"  You cheerfully say this despite the nervous churn in your stomach. You might have been thinking that he had finally found out your feelings towards him, which is causing you a bit of panic, wondering what he might think of you.   "O-Oh! Hey, y/n, you actually came." Klitz seemed a bit surprised. "H-How are you doing?"  “ God, why can't I just talk right for once?" He thought to himself when he spoke nervously, facepalming internally.

You softly laughed at his nervousness, which was reassuring to know that he too was nervous.

"I'm doing great! "What about you?" You said it with a nervous but inviting smile on your face. Your cheeks made your eyes squint slightly whenever you smiled.   "I'm good; thank you for asking." His smile was uncertain, but a genuine one at least. His fingers tapped the side of his leg nervously while he looked at you, occasionally looking away.

"It's no problem," You two stood there for a bit until you broke the silence in the park. "So why did you want to meet up?" You asked curiously, hoping that it was something silly like a school project.   "Well, um, I-" Klitz's eyebrows tensed slightly, feeling nervous and unsure of his confession. He took in a deep breath, which made you seem a bit confused about what could have gotten him so jumbled up. His eyes were closed for a moment, opening as he exhaled.  "I-I know it's a little sudden, but I've always had feelings for you." You could feel your heartbeat quicken just as much as he was starting to when he said these few words.  "Ever since we became friends, well, actually ever since I first saw you," Klits let out a nervous laugh in between his speeches. "I've been afraid to say anything. I didn't want to ruin our friendship, but I don't want to be just friends. His face was a bit red as he stumbled over his words. A slight moment of silence was shared while you looked at him with curious, nervous, widened eyes as he confessed to you. "What I'm trying to say is that I like you, y/n."

You stared at him for a bit more as a smirk crept onto your face, starting out with a giggle then progressing into a humbling laugh.

"Wait, why are you laughing?" Klitz's face went from nervous to confused, feeling a bit defeated by your laughter at his confession. It took him a few days to even build up the courage to even invite you to the park in the first place. "What's so funny?" He was genuinely confused about why you would be laughing at him.   As your laughter died down, you looked up at Klitz, who wasn't laughing with you; he was looking at you quite hurt and upset with your reaction. "You're joking, right?" You questioned me with a raised eyebrow.   "I-" Klitz was looking at you with his mouth slightly open, letting his eyes flutter for a few blinks. "No, I was." He shook his head and sighed sharply before shaking his head. "You know what, never mind." Klitz turned on his heel to walk off before he could make a fool of himself any longer until you grabbed ahold of his wrist before he could storm off anywhere.

"N-No, Klitz Wait, I'm sorry." You holding onto his wrist sent a striking feeling through his spine, making his heart flutter ever more. He turned back to you slowly as the hope in his eyes returned when you stopped him from walking off.   "I didn't know if you were joking or not; I never get asked out genuinely." You held onto his wrist a bit longer before he turned back to you, letting go of it when you came face to face with him again. "I wouldn't have thought that someone would really have eyes for me." You muttered under your breath, seeming a bit sorrowful but pleased to know that the person you liked had genuine interest in you.   Klitz tilted his head slightly in a bit of confusion. He was still anxious, to say the least, but he was more interested in what you meant, showing a hint of concern for you as well. "What do you mean?"   "Well, Im.. y'know." You looked down and shrugged, seeing your body discourage your thoughts on his confession. "Not fit for societal standards."   It took him a moment to process what you meant until he had an 'aha' moment, noticing that you were commenting on your body. Klitz was a mess, to say the least. The effect you had on him should be a crime, the way his whole body broke into a cold sweat at the slight attention you so gracefully offered him. Klitz never viewed himself as a good-looking hell; he even considered himself ugly, but seeing you act this way baffles him. Who wouldn't want to be with you? You always found ways to light up a room with your presence alone, always finding ways to make him feel better about himself. It upsets him greatly to know you don't view yourself the way he sees you because you're anything but special. He could still recall the day he first laid eyes on you, as if Cupid flew in and shot an arrow through his beating heart.   "Y/N, you are beautiful; you don't have to worry about so-called'societal standards." His eyebrows tensed, looking concerned about your self-image. "Don't take me as someone who would think that about you." Klitz moved a bit closer to you, feeling compelled to hold onto your hand to comfort you and as a way to show how passionate he felt towards you.   "I'm just afraid that you would see me as I see myself." You muttered, looking off towards the plains of the park while the birds chirped a subtle song.

Klitz's nervousness never failed to return; he wanted to compliment and reassure you so desperately, so he held his breath, his shoulders tensing up as he gazed at your stunning complexion. "However you see yourself... I'm sure it's just you overthinking." Klitz quickly turned away with a reddened face. "If you could only see how you look in my eyes, you'd understand why I'd ever confess." His voice was ridden with nerves, making him stumble upon his words. "Come on, grow a pair; this isn't the time to be nervous." You couldn't tell, but he was slapping himself in the face inside his mind.

You suddenly felt a pair of lips collide against yours. The kiss was a bit clumsy but sweet, no less. You were shocked, to say the least, but that didn’t stop you from smiling at the kiss, and soon your eyes fluttered to a close. You rested your hand on his cheek and let out a blissful hum, still enraptured by the intimacy you both were sharing. But eventually u pull away feeling so many emotions at the same time, good emotions, though u look up at klitzy, who was now wearing the same expression as yours but slightly different, it looked worried as if he didn’t think u might’ve actually liked him back before u could utter anything out klitz starts spitting out apologizes like there is no end to them.

I-I’m so sorry I-knew this was a dumb idea a-and I shouldn’t have k-kissed u like that I-I’m really sorry. Before anymore pointless sorrys could come out of his trembling self, you tugged down the collar of his shirt, now facing you at eye level, as you gently placed your soft lips on his, making sure to put every single loving molecule that is in your body through that damn kiss. As you slowly separated from each other, you look up at him.

Nothing but admiration was behind those small dorky glasses he never grew out of; no words were exchanged between you, just loving glances as you lean onto him, touching temples. You whisper back to him those sweet three little words Kiltzy was aching to hear.

He finally grew some balls and said those three words 👍🤓

A/n thank u so much for reading I really hope u enjoyed this ( I apologize if klitz sounds too ooc it was my first time writing for him ) don’t forget to drink some water👹

#zee writes #paul dano #klitz x reader #klitz my beloved #timothy klitz #paul dano klitz #klitz the girl next door

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