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atinylittlepain · 1 year

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We'll Be Expecting You - A Joel Miller Story

Joel Miller x pregnant!reader/pregnant!oc

Joel Miller masterlist

Baby Miller is on the way. Are they ready?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“We’ll be expecting you, Joel.”

…

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

…

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

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

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

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

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

“Ready when you are, baby girl.”

…

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

…

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“No no no no no–”

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

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

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

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

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

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

She can’t believe this is happening.

…

She can’t believe this is happening.

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

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

…

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

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

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

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

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

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

“C’mon, let’s get you cleaned up.”

…

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

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

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

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

This can’t be good.

…

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

…

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

…

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

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

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

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

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

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

…

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

…

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

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

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

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

She lets out a blood-curdling scream on one.

…

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

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

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

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

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

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

…

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

…

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

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

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

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

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

“Count me down. I’m ready.”

…

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

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

“It’s a girl. Our girl.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

A little family indeed.

…

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

…

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

…

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Still got it, mama.”

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

#joel miller smut #joel miller angst #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller #joel miller x you #joel miller x reader #joel miller fluff #tlou fanfiction #the last of us #tlou #unexpected expectings

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keldabekush · 4 months

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do you have any favorite fic recs that are fox/coruscant guard centered? there are a couple i've found that are really good but a lot of the fox tag is him in a more minor role with the focus on like cody or rex or jedi etc

Yeah i have a few! Here are some that i keep rereading - I'm putting them under the cut!

Politicians In My Eyes by jaigeye

Fox looks down at his armor, awash with blood. There are no identifying marks on him anymore. He's as red as Coruscant

CHTHONIC by catboydogma

Not even two days later, Fox revised his opinion. This wasn’t a disaster. This was a Grade-A, first order, fresh off the hot plate fuckfest. Fox’s day had gone something like this: lay in bed. Get up. Knock back some of the sludge in the mess masquerading as caf. Go through forms. Fill out forms. Bust open a closet in which the Senators for Uyter and Kinyen had both managed to get “stuck” in. Go through more forms. Fill out more forms. Get called up to the Senate dome to tell a Senator that no, the Guard did not address noise complaints. Find that the stack of datapads on his desk had somehow tripled over the last two hours. Despair at the state of his inbox. Etcetera, etcetera. And then.

dead dog (bye-bye baby blue) by batchmates

The way it happens is simple: at some point during your service in the Guard, you’ll lose time. The thing wiping the Guards’ memories gets sloppy and Fox remembers the order not to let Fives leave the surface alive. It changes everything and nothing at all.

Life During Wartime by chermit

Commander Fox has a lot on his plate: managing his Corries, filling out piles of forms, dealing with obnoxious Senators, and not thinking about the way he keeps waking up covered in other people's blood. All that considered, he really doesn't have time to deal with being investigated by the Captain of the 501st and the Head of the Jedi Order for two separate murders he (probably) didn't (want to) commit. But Fox is a soldier, and good soldiers follow orders, so when does he ever get what he wants?

Commander Fox's Guide to Touring Coruscant by kakashikrazy256

The painkiller he had been giving just half an hour prior is still working fine, leaving him relatively...alright. Nothing hurts particularly bad, but there’s a fuzziness layered over everything, making it hard to think too hard on anything beyond the first thoughts running through his head. Go inside. Find the rest. Sit down. Drink. Don’t say anything stupid. Don’t get caught. And...and just be there to properly enjoy the company of his brothers. Don’t forget these memories. / Fox gets injured but decides to keep it secret for the sake of his batchmates. For the prompt 'is that a bloodstain?!'

their days are darker by always_a_slut_for_hc

After the death of ARC Trooper Fives, an altercation at 79's leads Wolffe to spend his leave snooping around the Coruscant Guard. Fox assumes he'll drop it and leave the Corries to their fate; it's what everyone else has done. He is very, very wrong.

The Last Reason by meerlicht

Cody has a scar now, and it’s the only thing that differentiates him from Fox appearance-wise. For one, they both have the same circles under their eyes. Fox assumes that’s what comes with being a Commander. Their hands are the same, too, damaged and bruised at all times. But the biggest difference Fox sees when he looks at Cody isn’t the scar. It’s the rage. Cody doesn’t wear that same rage. Fox’s hands ache with the need to punch something. Or: Fox dealing with Senators, little brothers, the terrifying ordeal of asking for help and a menace called Quinlan Vos.

#ask #answer #fic rec #commander fox

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kakujis · 1 year

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you only call me on the weekend;

warnings: afab!fem reader, situationship, unrequited feelings, oliver can't admit he loves you, praise, creamp*e, implied multiple rounds, that should be it! not proofread.

ft + wc: oliver aiku hehe. around 1.6k

a/n: you know, for a self proclaimed oliver fucker i sure don't write anything about him LMAO. anyway this has been rotting in my drafts since i read the shibuya arc, so i finally sat down and finished it. eep.

you hate oliver aiku. you hate the missed calls, the times he’s stood you up, and the amount of times he’s left you on read. but when your phone chimed that night, his name etched across the brightly lit screen of your phone, you didn’t hesitate to open it.

oliver♡: hey baby, you free tonight?

don’t respond. don’t fall so easily. don’t give him what he wants. this is the mantra that you tell yourself every time he pops up, whenever the other girls he pursues turns him down and he tries to come crawling back to you for the sake of getting his dick wet.

but you’re weak for him and that’s why you respond without fail every time.

y/n: i might be. why?

you bite your lip, fuck, you know why.

oliver♡: i miss you, pretty girl. that’s why. let me come over, yeah?

that stupid phrase has your thighs rubbing together and you can feel your resolve, what little you had anyway, cracking.

y/n: mm, dunno.

oliver♡: you don’t miss me?

say no, your mind screams, for once, don’t let him get his way.

y/n: …maybe a little.

oliver♡: be there soon, <3.

y/n: that doesn’t mean come over!

you sigh, frowning and turning your phone off before tossing it to the side. you try to immerse yourself back into the show you were watching, but the prospect of oliver coming made your hands clammy and you’re unsure if it’s due to nerves or excitement.

there’s a knock on your door and your stomach drops, fuck that was fast. of course he was nearby, he knows you can’t say no. and that's the annoying part, that he was waiting nearby, planning, no, knowing that you would let him in.

as you walk over, you steel yourself, you’re gonna give him a piece of your mind this time. if he wants to keep fucking you, then he needs to put a little more effort in. yeah, that’s it, that’s what you’ll say.

but as soon as the door opens, he’s on you. you can’t even get a syllable out before he’s slamming you against the wall and crashing his lips onto yours. he kisses you like he’s starving, like you’re the first meal he’s had in years.

you can barely breathe, the air sucked out of your lungs as he picks you up, your legs naturally curling around his waist, while your nails are digging into his shoulders as he turns and kicks the door shut.

he’s fast, barely stumbling down the hallway as he walks you to the bedroom. throwing you down onto the bed, you’re given a moment of respite, gasping.

“oliver-“ you try, but he’s back on you instantly, slipping his tongue in, while some drool runs from your mouth. he tugs at the waistband of your shorts, before sliding them off.

his fingers ghost your clothed pussy, groaning when he feels the wet patch on your undies. he leaves your mouth to leave sloppy, wet kisses across your cheek before he’s growling in your ear, “you’re always soaked when i’m around, aren’t you?”

you whine out a needy and breathless, “mhm,” mind already hazy and resistance long gone. you tug at his shirt and he gives a light laugh, that makes your heart ache, before pulling it off.

“your turn.” he says and you scramble to take yours off. “god, you’re so pretty.” he hums, hand trailing through the valley of your breasts, making you tremble. you burn under his hungry gaze, trying to look away, but he catches you. your chin caught between the pad of his thumb and pointer finger, “eyes on me.”

you watch as he takes your panties off next, another hum of approval from him when he sees your glistening folds. he was right, you were soaked and eager, your body reacting to every touch or word he gives.

you hate oliver aiku. you hate how he makes you burn with the desire, how every touch of his hand across the expanse of your skin has you whimpering. you hate that he always knows what to say to keep you wrapped around his finger, his words keeping you collared to him.

but god do you love the stretch of his thick cock as it slides into your dripping cunt, mewling as he sinks down, inch by inch. he grits his teeth as he bottoms out, stilling a bit to let you adjust, before he’s driving into you like he hasn’t seen you in years.

sometimes, you think you were made for him. the way no other fling ever brings you as high as oliver does. his cock hits all the right places, your face contorted in pleasure as the slap! of skin against skin reverberates within the room. or maybe, you think like that because he tells you that. “fuck baby,” he hisses, “ah, you were fucking made for me, shit.”

oliver knows you like the palm of his hand. he knows when you want him to talk to you sweetly. he knows when you want him to growl obscenities in your ear. but most of all, he knows you always want him to fuck you stupid.

your whines are like music to his ears, as he thrusts into you, heavy balls against your ass. your head falls back against the pillow, eyes closing as you let the pleasure wash over you. but oliver tsks, hooking his thumb into your mouth and jerking it downward. your eyes fly open as he grunts, “i said, eyes on me.”

“s-sorry,” you whimper, trying to maintain eye contact with him, “ah, fuck!” but you just can’t, each thrust against your sweet spot has your eyes rolling back. you feel his hand on the back of your head, making sure you can’t throw it back, he wants to see it all, every fucked out expression you’ll give him.

it’s part of his ego to see you come undone on him. he loves that such a pretty thing like you lets him ruin you. in fact he craves it so much that he’s basically stopped sleeping around with others. he thinks you’re the cutest thing to cream on his cock, especially when you paw and whine that “ts too much!”

unfortunately for him, he’s not gonna be able to hold back this time. the noises you’re making are too pretty and the clench of your pussy feels too good. he’s sure this is the closest to love he’s ever gotten.

“‘m gonna,” you gasp, glassy eyes gazing up into his, “oliver, i’m-“

“i know, baby,” he coos, “you’re, ah, gonna cum right? cum for me, yeah?”

it’s embarrassing how quickly you do, the legs wrapped around him trembling as you clench down on his cock, vision blurring.

“that’s it,” he praises, fucking you through your high, “good fuckin’ girl.” and it’s not long til he’s coming undone too, groaning as he fills your pussy up, painting it in hot white ropes.

he pulls you in and you squeak, before he’s pressing a deep kiss into your lips. it’s the first time he’s done this and you’re caught off guard by the intimacy. but you don’t fight it, closing your eyes as he gives you kiss after kiss.

“let me stay the night.” he says in between kisses and you pull away, pushing his face back with your hand. you blink at him, perplexed. did he get hit in the head? not only has he not pulled out, but he’s even asking to stay the night?

“… who are you and what have you done with oliver aiku?” but he laughs at your confused expression.

“c’mon, i drove all the way here princess.” he teases and you tilt your head, brow furrowed. it’s annoying, as if you’ve never done that for him before. he’s not sure you notice the way that turns him on, but the blood’s already started rushing to his once softening cock.

you do notice and you frown, “you just wanna fuck me again.”

“what’s so wrong with that?” he asks and you groan, pushing him off hard enough that he slips out of you. you roll over, curling up into your side, feeling his seed drip onto the sheets.

“ugh, just go away oliver. i need to take a shower.” you feel stupid, dumb, and a little used but you refuse to cry in his presence, making a mental note that you really need to cut things off. but settles in next to you, throwing his arms over you and pulling you close.

“that’s not the only reason,” he sighs and your heart flutters, “besides, have i ever told you you’re my favorite?”

“not funny.” you deadpan, it’s stupid but your heart does feel a little lighter. you feel his hands wander over your body and you curse yourself for being so weak, feeling his stubble brush against your skin before he presses a kiss to your shoulder.

“i just wanna spend some time with you, i missed you.” he murmurs, breath hot on your ear. your breath hitches as he finds your puffy clit, rubbing slow, sticky circles.

“fine… but only because i love you.” you whimper as you spread your legs for him again, giving in for the nth time. you hate oliver aiku, but only because you’re so stupid in love with him. he knows, but he bites back the urge to say it back and let you know that you don't have to worry about it. you're not just his favorite, but his one and only.

“good girl.” he growls, before hooking a hand on the back of your knee, spreading you wider. maybe one day he’ll say it back.

#blue lock x reader #blue lock smut #bllk smut #oliver aiku #oliver aiku x reader #bllk x reader #oliver aiku smut #blue lock #pibby writing - midnight #i cant wait to write another situationship fic with him

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distorted59 · 4 months

Note

please elaborate on the dracula monster rp you mentioned in your kirk headcanons…PLEASE!!

YES OMG!!!! THANK YOU SM FOR ASKING THIS!!!!

this idea has been FEEDING my vampire kirk brain rot so well, esp those fanarts on insta👹👹 really check out @ fuzzsux on insta CAUSE THE ART IS SO GOOD!!!

anyways..... HERE'S MY IDEA FOR IT (any era works tbh)

Bite me please

summary: Kirk wants to play dracula and he wants you to play his bride...

pairing: '93!kirk x fem!reader

warnings: nsfw/smut, biting, roleplay, use of safe words,

word count: 1158

A/N: i was debating wether to make this really kinky or nah.

you'd always known Kirk's favorite monster were vampires. especially Dracula and it's whole story arc. he's a hopeless romantic with a dark kinky side. which you don't mind at all, of course.

he loves the idea of him being a powerful, mind infiltrating, seductive, blood sucking creature. who would stalk you, love you, claim you, and mark you as his bride.

it would start with him biting your neck for fun, not real harshly or anything. just some playful bites. and you seem to like them. he would get all excited and wanted to ask you right away, because this has been on his mind for a while now.

but, he still sorta backs out. you see he wants to ask you something, so you do it first.

"baby? what's wrong?" you slide your hand over his back. "Something on your mind?"

"yeah, actually." he has a wide smile on his face, which slowly turns into a smirk. "would you be interested in... uhh... roleplay?"

your eyes widen a bit and your breath hitches. you have a puzzled look on your face and let out a short giggle.

"what'd you have in mind?" you grin back.

"what do you think?" he leans down and bites your neck again, harder this time.

"do you want to drain me from my blood, Count Dracula?" you say in a bad, sensual transylvanian accent.

"oh..." Kirk groans and lets out a breathy chuckle against your neck. "i'd like to drain you from something else too."

you moan softly as he places more sloppy kisses on your neck, going up to your jaw and eventually kisses your lips.

"i'll take that as a yes, hm?" his eyes show a dark gaze, you can see the passion and lust in them.

"yes."

⋆♱✮☽🦇☽✮♰⋆

you're walking around the house, wearing some leathery outfit. which Kirk had picked out for you. along with a tight, blood red corset that is hugging your figure.

"so much for classic." you mumble to yourself. the house is dark and to be honest, you feel a little.... scared.

you don't know if it's the excitement bubbling in your lower belly or the actual thought of being haunted by your boyfriend...

"Kirk?" you call out faintly, looking around for him. "are you gonna jump out and attack me or something?" you say jokingly.

"that all depends, my love." Kirk's dark voice whispers to you, you can feel his breath against your neck.

you turn around and he immediately grabs you and slams you against the wall. he starts kissing your neck and leaving a few bites here and there. he moves down and starts biting on your collarbone, he looks up at you through his eyelashes.

he's wearing a ruffled blouse and a pair of black dress pants you've never seen him wear before. His chest glistens through the low cut shirt, a few faint love bites visible.

"color?" he whispers.

"green..." you breathe out.

"I'm going to drain you and make you mine." he growls. then, he drags you by your arm and pulls you into your shared bedroom. he pushes you on the bed and you scramble back against the headboard.

"w-what are you going to do to me?" you try to sound scared and get into your role as the 'victim'.

"look at you, scared little thing." he tuts and crawls over to you. "you're going to be my bride." his eyes shine with passion and power. you actually feel thrilled.

"are you going to hurt me?" you look into his eyes.

"just for a bit, darling." he tugs on the laces of your corset. "i'll make you think of something else."

Kirk nuzzles his face in your neck and drags his nose slowly down your collar bone and towards your breasts.

"you smell so fucking good." he groans.

you can only respond with a moan and your hands make way through his hair.

"hmm, are you ready, my love?" he kisses your jaw.

"please." you nod.

he pulls down your pants along with your panties and he's taking his sweet time with it too. he grins teasingly at you and slowly slides his hands up your legs and thighs.

"Kirk..." you whine.

"gonna mark you, my love"

he pulls down his pants and boxers and pumps his throbbing cock slowly, he slides it between your pussy lips and the both of you moan and shiver with pleasure.

"you're already wet enough for me, love." he decides to pull back and slide his fingers inside of your dripping cunt first. "and i didn't even really touch you yet..."

"k-kirk!" you moan as he stretches you out by adding a second finger. he curls them up and you gasp, letting your head fall back.

"there, all ready for me." he groans and lines himself up with your cunt.

he slides in and starts biting your neck harshly, you let out a moan that's mixed with pain and pleasure. you're positive you'll have a bruised neck with bite marks in the morning.

normally he's quite the one to talk, but he's too busy fucking and sinking his teeth into you. too pussy drunk to function.

Kirk's hips slam against yours, his moans muffled by your skin as yours are the only ones that fills the room. your whines drive him insane and he bites you harder.

"color?" he growls, his sweet intention gives you butterflies. but his cock pumping into you make them flutter away.

"nghh- gr-green!" the biting hurts but you like it. you swear if he keeps going, he might draw blood.

he bites different spots and sucks on them too, it drives you fucking insane and pushes you over the edge.

he keeps up a steady rhythm and feels you squeeze around him, he stops biting you and kisses you passionately.

"are you going to cum?" he grins, his lips red from marking you up.

you nod as tears stream down your face, the pleasure becoming too much for you.

"cum for me, my love."

you moan his name as your orgasm washes over you, Kirk keeps pumping into you like a wild dog in rut. he moans and grits his teeth, needing to bite on something.

"use me, bite me." you whine.

he bites down on the other side of your neck and cums inside of you, you can feel it shooting up inside you and he twitches like crazy.

he lets go of your neck and falls on top of you. he takes a few breaths and rolls over on his back, pulling you on top of him.

the two of you lay in each others arms and try to calm down.

"that was fucking amazing." he breathes out. "i love you so much, baby." he kisses your temple.

"was.. so good.." you murmur, feeling absolutely exhausted.

"it was." he grins.

he slides his fingers over the bite marks carefully, and smirks proudly.

you feel yourself drifting off, feeling safe in the arms of your monster-loving boyfriend.

"i want to really taste you next time."

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bonefall · 4 months

Note

i think nightcloud's pannage is perfect, personally. it gives her a great opportunity to compare herself to the sow in her mind; perhaps she even goes behind onestar's back to try and reunite some of the humbugs with their mother?

Yeah, I think it's all coming together. It should be Nightcloud's Pannage. I was a little apprehensive of eliminating the stoats, but I think this will actually work better.

Now I can use the hog and her humbugs as a vehicle for conflict, create a really interesting comparison to herself and the demonized mother boar, and also establish the very cute little detail that she REALLY loves piggies just in case the opportunity to make Sowstar presents itself later.

Friendship Ended with Stoats; now Sow and Humbugs are my Best Friend

When a litter of humbugs get lost in the tunnels and start popping up all over the WindClan Moor, their mother comes to try and find them.

Mama Sow is actually going to get a name. The new "Head of Hunting" role has this as a major part of their job; they are meant to keep track of major individual predators in their territory, so they name notable animals.

DETOUR: I kinda want her name to be Rashma in Clanmew; in English that's Oxeye Daisy, or Moonpenny or Marguerite. I think calling her Marge is the funniest possible thing I can do here.

Marge is notorious for liking the taste of moonpenny, which makes prey taste awful.

So, she's never been hunted, has lived to the grand age of at least 5, and is known as a prolific, doting mother.

So I might actually have the Head of Hunting of ThunderClan, possibly the newly promoted Lionblaze, come to WindClan to warn them that Marge is on the loose.

Onestar is currently in one of the lower points of his arc, like canon. So he pretty bitterly dismisses this warning, and cuts Lionblaze off when he tries to offer ThunderClan's help if Marge becomes trouble.

(Or Lionblaze might be training under someone else, currently. I'm unsure. The last cat I have planned to be the Head of Hunting in ThunderClan is Willowpelt.)

After more scouting, WindClan comes to realize that Marge's humbugs are all over the moor. They're JUST big enough to put up a fight, but not big enough that the inexperienced WindClan can't win. About 3 or 4 months old.

I know that at least ONE of these humbugs is killed by WindClan.

It was awful to Nightcloud, like, so uncomfortably sloppy that it caused her to disassociate with raw fury and finish the job.

That's important because it's how I'd open up the first flashback of her childhood, that night.

As the Clan is roasting the humbug, congratulating her, singing high praises, she realizes she was reminded of a gruesome hunting incident when she was a kitten.

Each humbug would be tied to some sort of thought she has on her own life, so I can use them as a framing device.

She probably gets separated in the end because reuniting the humbugs with Marge brought her far away.

BTW I want to make sure Marge is still very much an animal. They can't become "friends" in the end lmaooo.

But Marge could "return the favor" without breaking that rule too much, I think. Maybe have Nightcloud get chased somewhere by a fox and Marge comes out of nowhere to kill it without even breaking a sweat, then moves on.

So far, something I'm kind of enjoying about Nightcloud's Pannage is the way it's just sort of reflective. It's about the hogs and dealing with them, but in TRUTH, it's just a window into WindClan during an interesting point in time.

Crowfeather is reeling from NOT being respected anymore, suddenly losing something that was very important to him, because he misused that power and felt entitled to it.

Realizing he has no friends or family left, because he was AWFUL to them.

The Clan is now looking to Nightcloud, giving her a sense of respect she doesn't really like very much. But she's exploring what that feels like, for the first time, as she comes to terms with her past.

Breezepelt/Dodderheart reaches a very low point in his life, and starts pushing people who love him away to set up where he's going in the next arc.

Onestar is ALSO at a low point. I should include him nonsensically snapping at Brushblaze after Galekit and Smokekit are born in this SE, so Nightcloud can grapple with how on edge her leader seems.

(Possible trigger where she also is immediately ported back to Hillrunner snapping at her for something equally "random")

Plus the supporting cast of interesting cats with their own feelings on this; Harespring who's trying to stay diplomatic, Heathertail who's frustrated, Willowclaw and her budding friendship to Nightcloud, etc.

Hmmmm.... you know, now that I'm writing this out, it's kinda striking me that Nightcloud's probably SO sensitive at this time in her life because, it's the first time she's actually felt safe.

You know that thing with PTSD where it all hits you at once? Because you're FINALLY in a place where you can unpack it?

So it all gets worse before it gets better?

I should keep that in mind with this one.

#Better Bones AU #Nightcloud's Pannage

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daisybianca · 8 months

Text

pairing: pierre gasly x femalereader

summary: your boyfriend had been away for almost a week, and once he got home, you thought that a little treatment was needed.

warnings: sexual activities, teasing, cursing words

SIX DAYS HAD gone by without you seeing your boyfriend. When he finally got home the day after a good race, you ran towards him and almost immediately crashed your lips to his.

He smiled between the kisses and dropped his back on the floor, somewhere behind you. "God, I missed your taste."

Your tongue found his and playfully teased around it. When he pulled away first, you were a tiny bit upset.

"I missed yours more." You argued.

His eyebrows arched at your desperate thirst response. "You know what else I missed the taste of?"

Pierre's colorful eyes shifted across the couch. His eyes looked in the direction of your legs, more specifically, the space between them. He slowly got up from the carpet and sat on the edge of the couch. He slipped his hand into your plain boybrief pjs, and his finger grazed your cotton underwear.

You already knew you were soaking wet, just an inch lower from where his hand rested.

Keeping his eyes glued on yours, he slowly moved his fingers until hr felt the warmth of his hand through your cotton underwear. You let out a soft moan from your throat that you couldn’t even control.

This wasn’t fair.

You wanted him too much and it had just been six freaking days.

What if he needed to travel for a month or so in the near future? You'd shove yourself in a suitcase with him?

You reached out a hand to grab a hold of his forearm. Underneath your grip, you felt the tensing of his individual muscle fibers against your skin, twitching and fighting the urge to rip off your underwear.

"Hey," he spoke and his velvet voice echoed around the empty walls of your tastefully decorated minimalistic apartment.

"Yeah," you replied as your mind was going crazy about the fact that he was really trying to tease you.

"Can you let me be a teaser for once?"

You got up from the couch and tore his hand away. "Nope. The past few days have already been too rough for me. Don't make it even harder."

He moved his body closer to yours and kissed yours cheek. "Ironic. It was supposed to get me sucking your pussy."

The way he said pussy sent chills down your spine.

You were getting ready to jump on him any moment now. "I mean technically… you can still do that,” you replied nonchalantly.

He smiled and pressed his lips against yours. Your lips went at each other like you were in high school again, trying to show off who was the better kisser.

It was sloppy, wet, messy, and there was also a lot of biting.

It was still perfect.

By the time he pulled away, you were both panting to catch your breaths. He tucked a strand of hair behind your ear and planted a sweet peck on your neck. You wrapped my arms around his neck, and he already knew the cue. His arms dug underneath your back and knees. He effortlessly got up from the couch, holding you close to his chest.

"I missed you." Pierre stated. "So fucking much."

"Yeah, I said that before."

"But I didn't."

You laughed. "You don't have to say it in particular. You must show it."

A smirk appeared, and you caught a glimpse of desire in his besutiful eyes.

Your heart wouldn't zip it.

You looked up at him speechless as he casually walked you through the hallways and kicked the bedroom door open.

It was dark here, as well, minus the moonlight filtering through your bedroom window placed on either side of the bed. He walked over to our California king bed and gently placed you down.

You bit your lip as he stood by the edge of his bed. In one quick motion, he pulled off his shirt and tossed it on the floor. His pale skin glowed. The moonlight reflected off his broad shoulders and firm chest.

Your heart wouldn’t shut up once again.

His body snaked over time and pinned you down between his legs. Each hand tightly gripped your wrists.

The heat from his body was pouring down yours. He arched his neck and placed a kiss on your forehead. Gentle and sweet.

Then, he moved over to the tip of your nose, your lips, your chin, and then down on the flesh of your neck.

"You taste like coffee." You observed between a kiss.

He stretched his neck to look at you. "You taste like heaven itself."

A smile made your lips curve, but it was already too late. His lips had found yours passionately, and his warm breath tickled you.

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vvmylove · 5 months

Note

Can I request smut fic for jake? Maybe comforting him after the workers arc and it slowly turns into smth else 👀👀? Btw Love your writing!♡♡♡♡

This is for you too, anon.

Mmm neck

De-stressing your boyfriend😘 (MDNI!)

Your boyfriend Jake had come home, exhausted and bloodied from fighting the workers. He had enough of Eugenes stupid antics. Daniel had reached out to him earlier, asking him for help in return for revenge. He willingly complied. Here he is, in front of you. It was just another day for you, seeing your boyfriend come home with new wounds and bruises. You always found some way to soothe him, bring the loving girlfriend you are. It never bothered him though, he knew what was going to be ahead of him ever since he found out about his dads real existence. You walk up to him, grabbing onto his arm and walking him over to the bathroom. He had texted you 10 minutes beforehand that he was going to be home, so you had prepared a warm bath for him.��

Jake takes off his clothes, submerging himself in the water. You sigh, pouring some soap into his hair as you massage his scalp. “You okay?” you start off, breaking the silence. You bring your hands down to his tense shoulders, massaging them as he hums in response. He groans a little as you start to knead from his shoulders to his upper back, muscles attempting to relax. He smiles at you, gently taking your hand in his and plants a small kiss on your knuckles. “Thanks babe,” Jake murmurs, closing his eyes to enjoy the relaxing sensation of the warm water and your hands on his body. You look at him, admiring his features for a moment before planting a kiss on his cheek, then his lips, down his jawline- Jake grabs onto you, pulling you into the water even though you were still fully clothed. “Jake-” you whine, as he places his hand under your shirt.

“Eugene is so damn annoying,” he starts. You knew that once your boyfriend started to speak, he would not shut up. You lean forward, placing your hand on his mouth.

“Shut up,” you chuckle, taking off your soaking wet clothes. You sit onto his lap, straddling his thighs with your own as you press your body against him. Jake sinks into the water a little, resting his head on the edge of the bathtub.

You use this opportunity to kiss his neck once again, starting off with a few pecks before sucking onto his skin. Jake didn't mind, in fact, he enjoyed it. He places his hands on your hips, lazily rocking them back and forth onto his crotch. Jake knew what you wanted, but you knew he was tired as he wasn’t immediately taking control. The tension that had been building up throughout the day seemed to be melting away, as you nip onto the side of his neck, down his shoulder. It was your favorite thing to do. Jake felt himself grow harder by the second, the rocking motion of your hips adding to the pleasure. Jake moves his hands up your body, stopping at your neck and lightly squeezing. You groaned at the contact, as he pushes your head back so he could properly kiss you. The kiss deepens as he slid his tongue into your mouth. Your hands wrap around his neck, tangled in his hair, eagerly pulling him closer. Jake moves his hands down to your ass, lifting your body up a little, positing himself at your entrance. He knew you were wet, and you both were desperate. You slowly sink onto him, grabbing onto his shoulders. You capture his lips into a kiss again, muffling your moans as you adjust to the stretch. Jake pulls away from the kiss, "Good girl," he whispers sensually, his hands finding its way to back to your hips, guiding her as she began to ride him. He watched in awe, the sight alone enough to make him groan in pleasure. You moan a little louder at his words, your head going fuzzy for a moment with the feeling of his throbbing yeah inside of you. Jake forgot about his exhaustion from earlier as he starts to thrust into you. Jakes thrusts were becoming sloppy, it was difficult to maintain a steady rhythm from how slippery the bathtub was LMAO. You started to quicken your pace, feeling the familiar knot in your stomach building up. You bite the bottom of your lip to muffle your moans. "Babygirl I want to hear you," Jake manages to moan out in between each thrust. Your walls clench around him, signaling how close you were. "Yes sir," you moan out breathlessly, speeding up your movements. Jake could feel himself coming close too, as his pace becomes sloppy, trying to chase his own high. Soon you both come undone, your body limping onto his. Jake brings his hands up to move a few strands of hair from your face, then caressing it. "Round 2?" You chuckle. Jake: 💀🙏

---

Why do schools like to make us suffer (finals season 😭+no sleep+ I need to wake up early+no motivation to do work or write)

#i cant be writing smut girl do i look like-#i hope you like it #lookism #lookism thoughts #fanfiction #lookism fanfic #jake #obsessed with jake frfr #jake kim #lookism jake #jake lookism #kim gimyung

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ishcliff · 21 days

Note

If its ok whats your biggest peeve with modern persona

this is going to sound so unbearable, i think, but Hear Me Out

to sum it up, i just think the writing is extremely careless and sloppy, and the formula is lazy.

i think i can safely say the only modern persona game i consider myself a fan of is persona 3. haven't played reload, but i love what i have seen and also love FES and portable basically equally. but i think the existence of persona 3 as a good game thoroughly debunks the merit of "auteur theory" because it's only in spite of the misogynistic-tinted ineptitude of the two celebrated/recognizable directors that the experience is so memorable. imagine admitting in a book with your name on it that you could never be friends with a woman without getting romance or sex out of it, and saying this is why you made your protagonist a serial cheater. LOL

this type of careless attitude lacking self-awareness kind of permeates every modern entry. a controversial take of mine that i will live and die by is that the ending of persona 3 is sad because a depressed child with the power of the entire universe uses it to kill his/herself because it would make the lives of everyone around him/her better. i understand the intention of messianic imagery and mythology to it, but it is again just sort of a symptom of that carelessness that i associate the modern entries with.

then, persona 4 takes the narratively focused mechanics of persona 3 and makes it a series staple, thus weakening the entire point of why the calendar/daily life sim exists for persona 3 on a narrative level. i understand this was mostly done for crunch related reasons, but i would argue that makes this happening even worse.

but, at the very least, persona 4 does more with the calendar system tangibly than persona 5 vanilla does, where you essentially clear the main story in a single day and then get messages from everyone saying "yeah we gotta wait for (date) huh." having a major character be potentially in, essentially, a pointless coma for a month is egregiously stupid, among other narrative choices. i cannot speak for p5r because i have not played it, but persona 5 was so middling that i think i would have to lose a bet to go through the main game again just for a few hours of good content.

persona 3's messaging is at least cohesive enough to present a thesis: life is worth living even throughout the pain, so seize every day because one day it will end. but even then, that carelessness is still present with the point i raised above as well as the entirety of 10/4. the aftermath of shinjiro dying actively weakens the narrative because he specifically gave up on his own life – which, again, i understand is a gesture of gifting a future to someone in spite of the fact that even children will one day inevitably die, but shinjiro also just wanted to die himself, which is... exactly why nyx and erebus exist. yet his death is said to be "how it should be", and akihiko evolves his persona by developing even more maladaptive coping mechanisms than he already had. this isn't to say that shinjiro should have lived per se (though i do like p3p's act of quite literally giving him more time in the form of the pocket watch), but rather that the aftermath of his death should have been written from a different angle. his death is sad precisely because it was unnecessary.

persona 4 has absolutely fucking nothing to say. it makes no sense. messages about facing the parts of yourself you deny and overcoming the ideas others project onto you just mean absolutely fucking nothing when accepting their social conditioning as their "true self" is the conclusion of just about everyone. the only exception is fucking teddie, who is the only party member who has an arc that doesn't completely contradict the messages the game is allegedly trying to send out. you can also probably guess my opinion on the bigotry. the symbology makes no cohesive sense mythologically speaking, and the build up to the main antagonist... also doesn't make much sense. not as in it's difficult to understand, but because it's not fleshed out very well and the tie-ins to japanese mythology and folklore may as well be intangible because of how distant they are. it's just bad writing. idk what else to even say about it that isn't "this is a badly written game" over and over again.

persona 5's writing isn't exactly bad as much as it is overwhelmingly lazy. for example, what better way to rebel against "the establishment" by... recruiting a "good billionaire" into your party. it wants the aesthetics of punk without any of the work in the framing of the conflict. it turns real-world political debates into yet another war against god. worst of all, it's just boring (to me). i got nothing out of it. like, i don't even hate the game enough to go into even more detail, because that would imply some kind of passion. which is probably the worst thing i can say about anything, tbh.

so yeah. just laziness and shallowness that permeates every aspect of the presentation tbh.

(general disclaimer that i don't have any interest in debating at all LMAO i'm just yelling at clouds)

#i really am a fan of persona though i promise #atlus critical #persona critical #persona 3 spoilers #persona 4 spoilers #persona 5 spoilers #asks

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cophene · 2 months

Text

𝐃𝐈𝐒𝐂𝐄 | ohshc; seventeen.

* • ° revealed a new facet

previous chapter || next chapter || table of contents

pairing : ohshc x gn reader summary : perhaps no one at ouran is more qualified to deal with a broken heart than the host club. with a student’s heartbreak painfully obvious to everyone but themself, the host club takes it upon themselves to remedy that. all against that student’s better judgement. notes : multi-chapter fic, sfw, doesn’t follow canon plot word count : 2.8k+

You thought it would be best to avoid the Host Club today, especially considering your failed attempt at hero yesterday and Haruhi’s groundbreaking revelation at lunch. You couldn’t deal with them today, so you would just spend your afternoon with people who didn’t make you think about relationships and your love life.

“You’re hella sloppy, Captain,” your libero said as yet another one of your serves went off court.

“It’s not like I’m doing it on purpose,” you groused. Your libero tossed up a ball and you tried to serve that one with even less success. Seeing it go in the exact opposite direction you’d intended was a physical wound.

“Coach is going to kick you off the team at this rate,” your libero said. The words didn't even hurt because you knew they were true. In fact, it was lucky today was only an informal practice or the coach would be giving you an earful right now.

Actual practice started next week and your first game was a month and a half from now. You'd have to pick up your slack and pick it up soon.

“I just want to play a game,” you said, moving to the back of the relay line. “It's been way too long.”

“We'll be getting to that,” your setter said, sending a ball in a perfect arc to your middle blocker. “Just waiting up for the other team.”

“Really?” It was a little early in the season to be calling other schools over to practice. Sometimes the basketball team was willing to play a game or two but they could hardly be considered practice.

“Sorry we're late! Hope you weren't waiting for too long.”

You turned eagerly to the door of the gym only to draw up short.

“No problem,” your setter said. “Just dump your stuff by the corner over there and we can get started.”

You waited for someone to burst out laughing, but your team just chucked the practice balls into a basket, talking easily among themselves.

Was this for real? What the hell was the Host Club doing here? Why was everyone acting like they knew even the first thing about volleyball?

You shuffled over to where the Host Club was depositing their things. Whatever lie they had concocted to get in here, you doubted your volleyball team would have thought to check up on them. They probably would have no idea what the Host Club even was besides the ludicrous stories that sometimes floated around. Certainly not any club willing to help with practice.

“What are you doing here?” you asked Tamaki. You tried your best to make your tone curious instead of accusatory.

“One of our club members is practicing volleyball, so I figured we could stop by to help,” Tamaki said with a sweet smile. Your stomach swooped, trying to read if the expression was a flirtation or just kindness.

“You guys know how to play?”

“No, but it can’t be that hard to learn,” Hikaru said from your left.

“Yeah, how hard could it be?” Kaoru added.

You took in all of the hosts, wondering where they had managed to find coordinated tracksuits. It wasn’t like any of the actual volleyball team were in their jerseys. You yourself had thrown on the first pair of shorts and t-shirt you’d found in your closet.

“If they ask, we’re part of the track team,” Kaoru said, noticing you studying him.

“Kyoya really let you guys come? He’s not worried about you all losing money?”

“We aren’t losing money,” the Shadow King said, because even indirectly mentioning him summoned his presence. “We’ve invited our usual guests to watch today’s practice.”

“Wait, you guys shouldn’t—”

It was too late. You hadn’t noticed Renge by the door, but now she threw open the gymnasium doors, waving the crowd of guests who had been waiting outside to take their place on the benchers. Your team looked up, surprised at the sudden burst of activity.

“I didn’t know we were going to have an audience,” your middle blocker remarked, his neck starting to get red.

“That won’t be a problem, will it?” Kyoya asked.

“I guess not,” your setter said. “It’s not like these practices are private.”

You sighed. “Hey, do you mind if I talk to the track team for a second?”

He shrugged. You looped one arm around Tamaki’s and the other around Kyoya and pulled them to the corner of the gym. Sure enough, the rest of the hosts followed a beat later.

“Look, I don’t know what you guys are doing here but I just wanted to tell you that I’m sorry about yesterday,” you said. “I get that I was reckless and that I should have been paying more attention to club instructions. If things didn’t turn out the way they did, a lot more people than just me could have gotten hurt.” You took in a breath. “But at the same time, I still think I deserve some credit for at least trying to help Tamaki, even if I didn’t know what the hell was going on.”

Tamaki, Kyoya and Mori looked at each other.

“We should apologize too,” Tamaki said. He bowed his head. “I appreciated that you weren’t willing to let me get trampled by a horse.”

“I lost my temper. I apologize,” Kyoya said deliberately. “I was afraid that something had happened to you. That’s the last thing I wanted.”

Mori was silent for a beat. “I thought you were being stubborn on purpose, but what you did yesterday was quite honourable. I probably would have done the same in your position.”

You nodded and smiled ruefully. “I think we should all just be glad that no one got hurt.”

“Agreed.”

The hosts kept looking at you. Tamaki was sheepish; Kyoya was expectant; Mori was thoughtful. It was impossible not to read into the silence; to wonder if there was some ulterior motive to the way they were looking at you now.

“Let’s get playing then,” you said, forcing yourself to look away. “If you’re here to play volleyball, you better do it.”

Because your team weren’t total sadists, you split in two and added the Host Club to either team to make things more fair. Honey was relegated to the scoreboard, where the guests cooed at how adorable he looked perched up on the stool. Kyoya could not stand to be undignified in any way, and so had taken up the coach’s station. Kaoru and Tamaki were on the other side with the majority of your team. Hikaru, Haruhi, and Mori ended up on your team with your libero. Renge took it upon herself to stir the guests’ into a frenzy with her impromptu chants and banner-waving.

The Host Club was predictably terrible at volleyball. To their credit, what they lacked in skill they more than made up for in enthusiasm. They didn’t shy away from the ball and even if their form was abysmal, they were at least able to get the ball up over the night. More often than not though, your team just ended up playing around the hosts.

Although your team was at the disadvantage, you were surprised at how well Haruhi was able to keep up. For someone with no prior volleyball experience, she wasn’t half bad. And Mori was tall enough to make a semi-decent blocker no matter what he did. Hikaru, if nothing else, could be relied on to make that first contact with the ball after it was served to keep it up in the air, after which you would set to your libero to return to the other team or vice versa.

Throughout the game, you had a nagging suspicion that Kyoya had played volleyball before, or at least had some rudimentary knowledge of it. He was able to call a point each time one was earned and even without anyone prompting, could call out fouls when they happened. Of course he would feign inexperience only to turn out to be a pretty good referee.

Of course.

For a while, you could almost imagine it was a real game you were playing in. The cheers every time a point was earned definitely helped. Everything else fled your head and there was only the ball in the air, the shuffle of feet, and leaping up to meet the ball.

And then your team reached set point. Surprising, but like it always did, seeing Honey flip the scoreboard from 23 to 24 was like lighting a fire under your ass. A burst of red-hot energy coursed through you.

“Only one point left,” you yelled, more for the hosts’ benefit than any of the volleyball team. “We can do this, guys, come on!”

Everyone was breathing hard, sweat darkening the neck of their shirts and dripping down their faces. You didn’t think you had ever seen the hosts physically exert themselves before, but judging from the fanatic cheering and screaming from the bleachers, the guests were eating the sight right up.

You internally cheered that it was your libero’s turn to serve. Their serves were erratic but explosive. If they were smart, they would aim at either Kaoru or Tamaki, forcing the other team to return a weak ball. From there, you’d dart forward, set the ball and your libero would score the point.

You shot a glance at your libero, hoping they would catch all of your thoughts. They grinned in response, and you took that to mean they understood.

Kyoya blew the whistle. Your libero sent the ball across the court in a high-speed arc.

Yes! You grinned, watching it sail directly into Tamaki’s path. He looked up, surprised, and threw up his hands to keep it from smashing into his face.

The ball went even further back on their side. “Oh hell,” your setter growled, scrambling to get under the ball and give your outside hitter a proper set.

“Mine!” your libero called, already in position to receive the ball. Your outside hitter returned the ball a little harder than expected, though, and it went over your libero’s head.

“Haruhi!” you shouted, already running over. You didn’t think she’d be able to get the ball, but she sank into a crouch and bumped the ball perfectly.

“Nice receive!” you crowed. You switched directions, repositioning yourself to set the ball.

You heard someone’s foot slip and they went down hard. Oh hell. Was that your libero? You were already in the air, fingers on the ball. You didn’t have time to redirect—

All of a sudden, Mori was there, making eye contact with you. You let the ball fly, your heart in your throat as you watched Mori propel himself upward, his arm drawn back.

The ball landed on the opposite end of the court so quickly no one even registered it. They only heard the resounding boom! as the ball ricocheted off the floor.

The cheers were loud, but you were deafening.

“LET’S GO!!” you screamed, pumping your fist. You rushed to swing your arm around Haruhi’s shoulders, nearly knocking her off her feet. “Did you see that receive? Beautiful! Gorgeous! That was amazing, Haruhi!”

“Oh, uh, thanks,” she said, rubbing her now-pink forearms.

“And Mori! My guy!” you threw open your arms in his direction. “You were born to be a middle blocker! And that spike, holy! Quit the Host Club right now and join the volleyball team, you faker!”

Mori looked overwhelmed. “I’m glad I was able to score.”

“Damn right you were able to score!”

You reached down to swing your libero to their feet. They were more used to your post-game hollering than the Host Club and gladly let you tackle them into a hug and swing them around. As you dragged your libero along with you to gloat to your teammates, the hosts gathered together, similar expressions of surprise and confusion on their faces. Honey passed around towels and bottles of water.

“Geez, what’s wrong with Y/N? Do you think they’re going to burst a blood vessel or something?” Kaoru said, wiping his face.

“I nearly went deaf when they started screaming,” Hikaru said, wincing. “I’ve never heard them that loud.”

Haruhi’s smile was bashful. “I didn’t know they liked hugs so much.”

“That look of concentration on their face was terrifying,” Tamaki said faintly, his hair sticking up in all directions. “I thought they were going to murder me with the ball.”

“Athletes are invariably competitive,” Kyoya said. “You shouldn’t be surprised that Y/N has a different personality on and off the court.”

“Their physical ability is quite impressive,” Mori said, more to the floor than any of the hosts. “I was not expecting it.”

“I’m so glad Y/N-chan won!” Honey exclaimed, swinging his legs on the stool. “It was so exciting! Even though Hikaru, Honey and Mori were dragging Y/N behind, they still managed to win!”

The aforementioned hosts winced.

“You say it how it is, huh, Honey?” Hikaru said dryly.

“I had no idea volleyball was such a demanding sport,” Tamaki huffed. “And it’s so violent! I nearly had my nose broken on multiple occasions!”

“That’s because you kept staring at the ball instead of moving out of the way,” Kaoru quipped.

Kyoya pushed up his glasses. “All in all, I’d say today’s game was a success. Calculating the Host Club’s revenue today by charging for tickets at the door, we were able to make about a quarter more than we usually do.”

“You were charging people to watch?” Haruhi asked.

“Of course. Why else would I invite our guests here? We’ll split the revenue with the volleyball team forty-sixty.”

Haruhi narrowed her eyes at him.

Kyoya blinked. “Oh, my mistake. Thirty-seventy.”

“I just hope this doesn’t ruin the guests’ perception of Y/N’s tragic type,” Kaoru said, gulping down a bottle of water.

“On the contrary, this is just what Y/N needs,” Renge said, strolling toward the hosts. She nodded in Y/N’s direction, and everyone turned to watch Y/N being swarmed by guests, sheepishly accepting bottles of water and autograph requests. There was a glow about them, an ease to way they flicked sweat from their forehead and settled into a tired but happy haze. The hosts couldn’t deny the appeal of watching someone perform at their best and then be terribly humble about it afterwards.

“The tragic host has just revealed a new facet of themself,” Renge said smugly. “They are gentle and anxious around other people’s hearts, but they are ruthless on the court. Such clashing personalities, all contained in one person. How intriguing. Perhaps volleyball is an outlet for their anguish.”

Pointedly over the hosts’ shoulders, someone said, “You don’t know Y/N at all if that’s what you think.”

Mayako. She strode toward them, her long ponytail swinging behind her. It was hard to read the expression on her face.

Tamaki laughed lightly. “Well, we know that’s not how Y/N really is, we’re just saying—” but Mayako didn’t let him finish.

“The Y/N you’re seeing right now? That’s the real Y/N.” She threw a hand in Y/N’s direction. “ Loud. Impulsive. Bursting with energy. They’re not meek. They’re not reserved. They’re not miserable. If that’s the role you’ve cast for Y/N, I don’t know why they’re still playing along with it. It’s so opposite to who they are that it's almost laughable.”

Mayako’s words were pointed but she wasn’t angry. She was defensive. Protective.

Of Y/N.

Kyoya kept his voice steady. “We’re aware of that, Mayako-san. Still, you are aware a part of the Host Club is intentionally keyed up for the guests’ sake.”

“But Y/N isn’t keying anything up,” Mayako said sharply. “They’re just lying. The host type they’re going for isn’t anywhere close to who they really are. I thought that was supposed to be important for all of you? Authenticity?”

Honey seemed a little confused when he said, “Of course we know this is how Y/N really is. We’re their friends, after all. We’re not surprised because we weren’t expecting it. We’re surprised because it’s been a while since they’ve been like this.”

A line appeared between Mayako’s eyebrows.

“If you say so. How you want to act around Y/N is none of my concern, only, I know I wouldn’t forget who Y/N really is after all of the acting.��

She walked away then, approaching Y/N and tapping on their shoulder with a gentle smile. Y/N’s face lit up when they saw her, then dimmed, maybe a little embarrassed. Mayako said something to them and they laughed. All of the hosts tensed when Y/N leaned down to whisper something privately into Mayako’s ear.

“She’s just making a big deal out of nothing, isn’t she?” Haruhi hesitantly asked.

No one replied.

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#disceohshc #ouran high school host club #ohshc x reader #ohshc #gender neutral reader

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lover-of-mine · 1 month

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Re: the "Natalia and I, we broke up." + "all she wanted to talk about was death; it was kinda boring." That scene, and particularly reading the Tim M. interview where he talked about being "over all the death talk" and how those lines in the script might have been a little bit of him talking, actually have me concerned that they've abandoned what seems like was the lead up to an actual Buck Breakdown™ arc.

(Or possibly worse, they consider 6b to *be* the Buck Breakdown arc and work through of all his trauma, and now they consider it done.)

Oliver's interviews talking about Buck 'being a new man' 'just doing things that make him happy' 'finally getting off the hamster wheel" and overall being in a much better place suggest that he's in that like post-breakdown/healing journey already? Idk, I felt like there was a lot in the second half of 6B with Buck's storyline that got a little fumbled/sloppy with the fear of cancellation and them trying to put a final bow on things, but there was also a lot that suggested we were heading towards a really meaty, Breakdown™ story in S7. Now it's sounding kind of like, because of how it was handled last season, Tim has lost interest and is ready to just kind of mark that story as case closed and skip ahead to "happy, new man" Buck.

I see what you mean, but seriously, it would be a bad storytelling decision to have this major trauma in Buck's life be completely ignored/handled off screen again, say he's Buck 4.0 and call it a day would be annoying as hell. They handled that pretty badly with the fear of cancellation and with Natalia not coming back, they didn't even have a satisfying ending for that. I wrote this and this this weekend, and I don't know if this is a reaction to that or if I'm just a person you felt like you could send these thoughts to, but Buck thinking death is boring just to be heavily triggered by death is a possibility. Because we know Bobby is in mortal danger, and his biggest trigger in the coma was the fact that Bobby was dead, and Buck finally being able to face that is something that could work. And Buck working on himself without a major breakdown, maybe because he felt like he was getting there and decided not to let it get that bad could also be a conclusion there. I want a full breakdown for Buck, I want him on the floor crying, but depending on how they make the whole "he's a new man" thing, I could get behind it. They just have to acknowledge it happened, because you can't have Eddie's whole arc about burying his feelings and having that blow up in his face, effectively establishing that just "moving past it" doesn't work, to have Buck be all fine by just moving past it.

All the talk is actually making me think about my initial speculation about Buck/buddie and my whole Buck drowning thing, because the whole thing hinged on Buck being fine and getting triggered. Because I wrote a really long thing about Buck getting triggered over something happening to Bobby, Maddie, or Chris, that leading to him getting all sorts of unstable before deciding to work on himself, and while I did speculate on a full breakdown, Buck recognizing the trigger and asking for help before things get explosive are a way to handle him without the "exhausting death talk" because we are not dealing with Buck's death, we are dealing with someone else, and with a Buck that wants to be alive and could get conflicted about how to handle the situation. Because Buck and Eddie mirror each other and Eddie's breakdown buildup started when he was introduced, the well and the shooting are one of the stops yeah, but everything about Eddie led him to fear-o-phobia. Buck's breakdown has been building since Buck begins, and he's been slowly self destructing since then, but the lightning is Buck's well (volunteering into the situation, night and rain aspect of it, saving himself), so if they keep mirroring the 2, Buck needs another trigger, because what actually triggers Eddie isn't the possibility of his death, is the death of someone else, because he's the last one standing, forever the one left behind. But where Eddie is the widower, Buck is the savior, so the most effective way to trigger him would be failing to save someone he loves, and with the focus on Bobby in his coma world, and the way Bobby is about to die, the possibility is right there. But let's say they don't go with that, a Buck breakdown wouldn't be explosive, and Buck focusing on being a better man, acting like he's getting better just to have something happens to shake that belief by the end of the season (buddie car crash in the season finale you heard it here first on October 16 2023 lol), is a way to move past the death talk for a while just to have it all came crashing down later on, the same way Eddie seemed fine until he wasn't (I mean in s4, s5 Eddie is hanging by a thread the whole time). But this is mostly what I've been telling myself over how they're talking about Buck, because I need that man to break so he can actually move on with his life.

#i feel like a lot of speculation about a Buck breakdown latched onto the cruise because Buck getting triggered at sea is literally #the easiest possible way to trigger him #I'm guilty of that too‚ but having Buck walk past that just to crash later #like they had Eddie walk past getting held at gunpoint after being shot #works yk?#does this make sense?#please tell me it this makes sense kpskspmsoskoss #but yeah im curious about where this is going #911 #911 spoilers #911 speculation #i really need a tag for asks #anon 😌

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scarlet--wiccan · 2 months

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How do you feel about Tommy being back in Scarlet Witch and Quicksilver - what do you hope for his interactions with Wanda and Pietro and his place in the story? Bonus: this might lead to his first interaction of significance with Vision 🤣

I'm pretty excited, any interactions between Pietro and Tommy are bound to be fun and I wonder if Tommy and Luna will ever meet. I do worry with all the extra characters involved and two villians (not to mention the Wizard's army) that this 4 issue series may be overstuffed and suffer from pacing issues. The advertised core of the story is the Maximoff twins relationships but depending on how early the fight is in issue 1 and the point at which they meet up again in issue 3 they might actually spend half the series separated (not keen about Wanda potentially spending more time with a former love interest than her own brother in a book which is heavily advertised to be about siblinghood and family).

Yeah, I'm actually a little nervous about the pacing. I really, truly, do enjoy Orlando's writing and the work he's done with these characters, but the pacing has been a consistent problem. To be fair, the short run of Scarlet Witch and unconventional structure of Darkhold weren't his fault-- those are editorial and publishing decisions-- but I felt like both titles were overstuffed and it caused him to elide or rush past moments that really needed more page time. The back half of Scarlet Witch #10 is low key sloppy, and it left me feeling kind of sour on the whole second arc of the series. I really hope SW&Q doesn't repeat that experience.

I'm kind of assuming that #2 and #3 are going to be more self-contained-- I don't think that Wanda, Vision, Tommy and Pietro are going to actually end up all in the same place. I hope that Tommy at least gets to see his mom, but I won't be surprised if he doesn't. Sorry to be a downer, but it's like you said-- we've got a lot stuffed into four issues, so we need to keep things moving fast. No pun intended.

Anyways, my main concern for Tommy is addressing the fallout of the Hellfire Gala and David's apparent death. Presumably, Tommy just got back to Earth and is going to be processing a whole lot of grief. Orlando collaborates regularly with Steve Foxe, so even if SW&Q doesn't spend a lot of time on this, I do expect there to be good continuity for Tommy's relationship and the time that he's been spending in outer space.

I do have a lot of ideas about what kind of dynamics Tommy should have with Wanda and Pietro, and ordinarily I would want to focus on developing those relationships-- him having a fun rivalry with Pietro and being able to connect with him about their unique mental and emotional wavelengths; him actually having a fulfilling parent-child relationship with Wanda for the first time in his life-- but I just don't feel like it would be right for Tommy to show up in a lighthearted mood right now. It sucks, because he already gets so little page time, but I don't want fun, sweet Tommy content. I want someone to actually take this character seriously, and I think right now, that means he's going to be in kind of a bad place, emotionally.

Who knows, maybe he'll be the one to push Wanda and Pietro-- but especially Wanda-- to do more in the fight against Orchis. I doubt it, since this is very much not an X-Men title, but it would a clever way to loop them back in.

#tommy shepherd #speed #scarlet witch & quicksilver (2024)

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fruitcoops · 2 years

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hi eve!!! have loved all of your oknutzy stuff recently !! Was hoping you’d write a coops fic while Remus was PT maybe just appreciating how much he does / Sirius treating him to something special (nice meal, back rub, etc) after a long day of work?

Yes! Love me some PT Loops learning that--*gasp*--people are allowed to love him. Coops credit goes to @lumosinlove, Hattie is mine!

TW referenced minor injuries

7:45—Admin

Remus’ vision blurred with exhaustion. “No sleeping,” he mumbled around a yawn. His eyes still felt too heavy, too sticky with sleep to function like they should. “Morning, morning, morning, stay awake, stay awake, you can fit a nap in later.”

No, you won’t. Someone was going to fuck up a joint during practice today. He could feel it tingling at the back of his neck like the breath of a lunch-stealing poltergeist. Remus gazed mournfully at his calendar and the list stuck to the left side of his computer screen, scrawled in a sloppy hand before practically falling into Sirius’ car the night before—his handwriting was already questionable past 6 pm, even without a day like that. Like this one was shaping up to be, too.

His computer gave a cheerful chirp: You have a meeting in [15] minutes with [Thompson, Admin]!

Somewhere back home, Sirius was still in bed. Cozy. Warm. Sleep-soft. Probably curled on his side, long legs clad in flannel, his body in a gentle arc that formed a perfectly Remus-sized hollow against his middle for prime snuggling…

“What would happen?” he wondered aloud, drumming his fingertips on the fake wood. “If I skip, what are they gonna do? Fire me? They can’t fire me.”

His eyes slid from a near-solid block of color-coded events to the crisp Post-It with its endless list of non-work tasks.

“God, they would totally fire me,” Remus muttered. As if they haven’t been looking for a reason to do it since January. He took a moment to stretch both arms over his head and crack his back; from the looks of it, the remaining 6 minutes would be the last bit of leisure time until he went home or died, whichever came first.

10:00-2:45—Clinical + Walk-in

“What are you doing?”

“Being productive.”

Moody snorted from the general vicinity of the doorway.

“Seriously,” Remus continued over the rhythmic thud of his forehead against the wooden cabinet of the break room. “This is a better use of my time than talking to Tremzy.”

“More broken fingers?”

Remus huffed. His forehead was finally starting to transition from aching to blessed numbness. “Told me it was a jammed knee. How’d it get jammed, Tremz? I dunno. Did you turn too hard? Uh, I twisted it. What a little son of a bitch.”

“Since when is Tremblay from Texas?”

“Remind me that I love my job, please.”

“You love your job and you love those boys.” His forehead hit something softer the next time around. Remus let out a slow breath through his nose as Moody adjusted to grab him by the face and gently pushed him back into a proper standing position. “That brain pays your salary, Lupin. Play nice.”

“This brain is currently on strike due to workplace abuse,” he said into the rough skin of Moody’s palm.

Light flooded back in and Remus squinted, blinking in the sudden change. Moody scanned him with a critical eye. “You eaten yet today?”

“Yeah.”

“What’d you have?”

“Wagyu steak and pan-friend potatoes.” His stomach clenched at the very thought. Moody’s expression was distinctly unimpressed. Remus sighed. “A bagel and a granola bar, two hours ago. I have a meeting with Dumo in 3 and a half minutes about his lower back pain ‘cause he refuses to admit he’s over the age of 28, so if you’ll excuse me…”

“Choke down another granola bar and I’ll let you leave.”

“Moody—”

“You’ve got 2 minutes and 55 seconds.”

Remus scrubbed both hands down his face. Not for the first time, he wished he was a little meaner, or at least mean enough to push past into the hallway. Sirius would have. But he wasn’t Sirius, and he was hungry, and there was almost certainly a peanut butter and chocolate bar somewhere in the back of the cabinet…

Bingo. Putting his job on pause had never tasted so good.

4:30-6:00—Ref. 20-47

The afternoon passed in a series of signatures and papercuts, broken up only by a 40-minute period of double-checking everyone’s skates and pads before evening practice. Remus heard the team arrive in a distant stampede and braced himself for the inevitable grilling—where are my shoulder pads? I left them drying last night, though. What do you mean they’re in my stall?—only to be left, beautifully, wonderfully alone. It appeared his extra work the night before had paid off.

Sign, stamp, stack. Remus glanced at his watch; 28 referrals completed in just under 90 minutes. That left only two items on his work calendar (he decided to ignore the ‘home’ chores Post-It for now), a number that had seemed unfathomable seven hours ago. The admin meeting felt like another universe.

He stood on shaky legs and groaned softly at the ache from sitting too long without breaks, bracing on the edge of his desk for a stretch to stave off a calf cramp. A smart person would take 10 minutes and do some light yoga, run a couple drills once the guys went home. Remus’ neck twinged when he checked the clock again—just as he thought. No time to be a smart person.

Remus wrinkled his nose at his desk chair before easing himself back into it. The future was difficult to imagine when his brain was that fuzzy.

“Two more,” Remus told the tiny granite wolf taped to the top of his computer monitor. “That’s it, and then I can go home and have a good dinner and kiss my boyfriend and sleep for ten hours.”

He flexed his throbbing hands and pushed the keyboard aside to make room for two sheets of paper to lay side-by-side. Sorting health forms was easy, repetitive, and…

6:00-6:30—Nap

Remus woke up.

His computer was off. Good sign, he thought, letting his eyes slip closed again. Done for the day. His hands took a moment to come back online. Then the familiar ache in his legs. Then a sudden pinch in his lower back when he tried to turn into the touch caressing one side of his face, and a new voice shushing him as a hand eased his back into a more comfortable spot. Remus grumbled wordlessly.

“Re.”

He made a noise of acknowledgement. One side of his face felt stickier than usual.

“Hey. Loup.”

“Lis’nin’.”

“Time to wake up.”

“Am.”

“Sure you are,” Sirius laughed quietly. Sneakers squeaked on linoleum as he shifted and Remus burrowed into the worn-soft fabric of his shirt. He smelled good, a little sweaty, like he did after warmups or a couple loops around the basement rink. Warm in the crook between neck and shoulder, just like Remus had left him that morning. Sirius’ chest hitched with suppressed laughter for a moment—there was an odd sound like rustling paper, and then an unpleasant tug on one side of his face.

Remus jerked awake by another degree and felt his neck heat with embarrassment as Sirius finished gently peeling a health form off his cheek. “Sorted ‘em,” he explained around a yawn. “Fell asleep.”

“Quoi?”

“The paper. Sorted it.” His head felt all muggy, mouth tacky like he had been sleeping with it open. “How long was I out?”

“I’m not sure.”

Remus frowned. “Time’s it?”

“6:35. I just came to say hello.”

He hummed. Sirius’ hand slid down from the back of his head to give his neck a gentle squeeze at the nape—it popped a few neurons back into place, and Remus blinked blearily at him before leaning forward to rest their foreheads together.

“Hello,” he said into the sliver of space between them. “Missed you.”

“I missed you, too.” Sirius’ thumb stroked circles over the top of his spine, turning Remus’ bones to mush. “Busy day, huh?”

“Mmm.”

“Do you know what you want for dinner?”

Remus couldn’t help his sigh. Dinner. Number one on the (literal) laundry list that needed to get done before he could drag himself into bed. Sirius would be starving when practice was done, and it was only fair that he figure something out—maybe he could ask Sirius to throw a load of dishes into the washer before rinsing off. Yeah, he could do that. “Chicken and rice?” he suggested. Quick, easy, season and bake. 40 minutes start to finish.

“Sounds great.” Lips pressed to his forehead, a little dry from warmups but as pillow-soft as always. “I’ll be back at 7:45?”

Remus smiled into their next kiss. “See you then.”

8:15-8:45 pm—Shower + Dinner

Ahead of schedule, Remus thought as they pulled into the driveway and Sirius turned the ignition off. Bonus points. If they kept this up, he might be able to let the broccoli bake for an extra five to ten minutes for some extra crunch. “D’accord,” Sirius said under his breath as he ducked out of the car and jogged around.

Remus paused, bewildered, when the passenger door opened and Sirius held his hand out. “…what?”

“Come on.” Sirius held his hand a little closer; Remus felt a blush creep to his ears when he took it and let Sirius help him from the car like—like some sort of celebrity. Sirius dipped down to kiss his cheek, taking the backpack from his shoulder in the same motion.

“What is this?” Remus laughed.

“What, I’m not allowed to carry your bag for you?” Silver eyes glittered with amusement. “I can be romantic.”

You are a grown man, don’t get fluttery over that. Remus bit his lower lip around a smile. “You can.”

“I showered at the rink, so you can head up,” Sirius continued, opening the door with ease despite the two bags hanging off him. He intercepted Hattie’s welcome tackle and tossed the nearest tennis ball down the hallway for her to chase, gesturing for Remus to go ahead of him. A lopsided smile made Remus’ heart squeeze. “The beast has been tamed. After you, mon amour.”

He cast a quick look around the living room and kitchen when he entered—no surprises yet. Nobody hiding behind the couch with cake and balloons for…something important, presumably. Fuck, had he forgotten an anniversary? Anniversary of what? This time last year, he and Sirius had both been unhappily aboard the train of useless pining.

Then again, being sweet and silly and chivalrous for no reason at all was exactly the type of thing Sirius would do, when he thought about it. “Thanks, baby,” Remus said as he toed his shoes off and leaned up for a kiss.

Sirius nudged their noses together, one hand going down to soothe Hattie’s excited tippy-taps. “Pas de problem. Now go, shower, I know that look on your face.”

Remus caught him by the front of his shirt before he could turn away and pulled him down for one more chaste peck. “I love you.”

“Love you more.”

8:25 pm—Shower and…dinner?

Sirius hadn’t let him start the chicken, rice, or broccoli before ushering him upstairs with a playful smack to his ass. Remus wasn’t quite sure what to make of that, but he had been standing under the hot water for about five minutes now and honestly didn’t have the capacity to read too far into it anymore. The water took the last of his higher brain functions with it as it swirled over his aching feet to the drain. More than once, Remus’ thoughts tried to wander toward the Post-It still stuck to his computer monitor, but for the life of him he couldn’t remember what it said.

Maybe that was okay. Maybe he could take another couple of minutes to steam himself like the dumplings from their favorite shop down the road, taking in the warm air and blowing out the day’s stress. He hadn’t done that many consecutive clinicals since college. A break was well-deserved.

8:45 pm—Put on pants

**Correction: 8:45 pm—Put on Sirius’ pants and sweatshirt

The bed was far too tempting for its own good. If Remus’ stomach wasn’t growling like a hellbeast, he would have given in to his weak mortal urges and buried himself beneath the sheets the second he stepped out of the shower.

He rolled the waistband of Sirius’ sweats twice to keep them up, then slipped on his oldest, most threadbare Lions hoodie. A welcome gift from James, if Remus remembered right. One of many attempts to offer friendship to their newest, coldest rookie.

Remus stuck his nose in the neckline and inhaled deeply. How far they had come since those first silent days.

Fuzzy socks made the outfit complete and offered the gentle padded compression he had been craving since noon. He cracked his knuckles as he headed back down to the kitchen, stifling a yawn in one frayed sweater cuff, and paused at the bottom of the stairs to give Hattie’s ears a scritch. “Hello, princess,” he laughed while she gave his hands a thorough inspection. “You’ve got bedhead, c’mere. Did you have a good nap after your dad left? I know, I was gone forever.”

“The couch was still warm,” Sirius called from the other room with an audible smile. “I checked.”

“I bet you two went to the park, huh?” She stared back at him, tongue lolling, tail thudding against the floor before she pushed her entire head into his chest. The fur of her neck was silky smooth between his fingers; Remus pressed his nose to the top of her forehead and let himself relax into the velvet softness.

The air smelled different when he raised his head, blinking in the dim light. Hattie put her paws on the lower stair and began her nightly routine of making sure he wasn’t secretly hiding treats behind his ears. “Baby?”

“Ouais?”

“I can—” Remus broke off when another burst of steam sent the smell wafting into the living room. Sirius had used the good paprika. Christ, his heart was going to burst. “I said I could make dinner.”

“Chicken and rice, yes?” Sirius appeared in the doorway with a sweet smile and popped a green bean in his mouth, shrugging. “I got it.”

“You got it.” He got it. “You didn’t have to do that.”

“I wanted to.”

Remus’ hands stilled over Hattie’s ribs. He could feel her breathing, steady one moment, erratic with intensive sniffing the next. It seemed she had accepted the fact that he was not going to sneak her cookies and trotted off to go whine at Sirius, leaving Remus alone on the stairs. “You got it,” he repeated quietly to himself.

9:00 pm—No…plan? No plan.

Dinner was amazing. They were both too tired to talk much, but the minute they sat down Sirius had twined their ankles under the table, and there they stayed for the next half hour while they ate in companionable quiet. The rice was only a little undercooked.

Sirius liked to read or watch a show after evening practice most days, and Remus usually found himself a spot between thick thighs or tucked up against Sirius’ side to join him for an hour or two. But Sirius had taken their dishes with a kiss to his forehead and put them right in the dishwasher—and started it—before taking Remus by the hand and pulling him upstairs.

Remus watched him change into his pajamas and put his day clothes in the hamper at the same time, relying on muscle memory to brush his teeth while his mind whirred. It wasn’t that Sirius never helped around the house; the man was more of a neat freak than he was, some days. But something felt…different. It felt more intentional.

“So,” Remus started once he had rinsed his mouth out and shuffled aside to share the sink. The words stuck in his throat for reasons he couldn’t name. “Tonight was—tonight was really nice. Thank you.”

Sirius’ brow furrowed in confusion. “For dinner?”

“And the other stuff.” Why was it suddenly so hard to say what he wanted? “You know, the dishes and feeding the dog and holding the door and…all that.”

Sirius hummed and bent to spit out his toothpaste before he half-shrugged. “It was normal stuff. You were tired. I could do it, so I did.”

Remus just stared at him as he went back to brushing his teeth, already rummaging through the cupboard for the mouthwash. “Thank you.”

Sirius hummed his thanks when Remus passed him the mouthwash bottle; when he was done with his teeth, he turned, taking Remus’ face between gentle hands to kiss him, minty fresh. “I missed you today. And yesterday.”

Don’t swoon, don’t swoon, don’t swoon—“I missed you, too.”

Perhaps spending two days cooped up in his office had had more side effects than just draining his energy. He let Sirius take more of his weight with a slow exhale, and a moment later felt big hands rubbing along his aching muscles. “It’s silly,” Sirius said, his voice low. “I almost wished I had a real excuse to come see you.”

“For your own sake, I don’t,” he mumbled into Sirius sleep shirt.

There was a gentle pressure at the top of his head; Remus hid his smile in the nearest bicep. “You do so much for so many people,” Sirius sighed at last. The hands on his back maintained their steady motions. “You spend all day fixing their problems. My problems, too. I just—” He paused. Remus loved how carefully each word was chosen. Another little press made his stomach swoop. “I want you to know that you don’t have to do everything by yourself, Re. I can handle Hattie, I can do chores, I can cook. Maybe not well, but—”

“It was fantastic, Sirius.”

“Merci.” Sirius’ arms tightened around him for a brief pulse. “I can help. Let me help. I want to. This is, like, the bare minimum.”

Sometimes Remus couldn’t believe just how lucky he was. A day that used to end with boxed mac and cheese and falling asleep in the creaky twin bed of his apartment, occasionally still in his work clothes, now ended like this. And if he had his way, it would go like this forever.

“Okay,” he said, tilting his head up. The corners of Sirius’ eyes crinkled with a smile. “Alright, I’ll try. But don’t try to do everything for me, either, yeah?”

“As if I could get away with that,” Sirius laughed, bending down until their lips brushed and happiness fizzed through Remus’ whole body.

A double yawn interrupted their third-fourth-fifth kiss and they broke down into laughter; Remus went willingly when Sirius tangled their fingers together and made a show of dragging him to bed, bundling him up in the covers before settling down with a nuzzle to the back of his ear. His knees tucked up behind Remus’—his arm wound protectively over his torso, forming a perfect Remus-sized hollow.

10:00 pm—Rest

Remus was asleep before Sirius had taken two breaths.

#remus lupin #sirius black #coops #hattie #moody #sweater weather #lumosinlove #my fic #fanfic #fluff #pt loops #cuddling #long day

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