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kkvqwrites · 1 year

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Bedside Manner

Reader goes into labor while Simon's away and calls the first person she can think of. The task force (and some other friends in high places) rally around the couple on the most important day of their lives.

Word Count: 2,587

Characters (in order of appearance): fem!Reader (no use of y/n), Capt. John Price, Kyle "Gaz" Garrick, Simon "Ghost" Riley, Johnny "Soap" MacTavish, Kate Laswell

CW: childbirth, hospital setting, medical procedures

A/N: Am I a Ghost girlie? Absolutely. Am I also a sucker for the found family trope? Til I die. This idea wouldn't leave me alone and I'm so glad I stuck with it. I love the way this came out and hope you like it!

"Dear? Everything okay?"

The captain's voice on the other end of the line sounded worried. Both he and Simon had drilled it into you to never hesitate to call Price if you needed anything while your husband was away, but you couldn't help feeling a bit guilty.

"Um, I think so," you began, willing your voice to stay level and upbeat. "I think I just - oof.." Another contraction hit, stealing the air from your lungs. They were coming more consistently now, and hard enough to stop you in your tracks.

This could not be happening.

"What's wrong? Are you alright? Are you hurt?" You could hear movement in the background, him gathering his things to be out the door and on his way to you.

"I'm fine, John. I just didn't know who else to call. I think the baby might be coming?" The words came out pinched as you worked through the tail end of the contraction. The captain swore loudly.

"Stay put, love. I'm on the way - everything will be alright. Want me to stay on the phone with you?"

"No, no, that's fine. Stay safe and I'll see you when you get here." You hung up before he could argue and fuss like a mother hen.

______________________________________________________________

The knock at the door startled you. You looked at the clock - surely that couldn't be John already. The man lived across town. Not trusting yourself to make it to the door, you called out.

"It's open!"

Turns out it wasn't Price, but Gaz, who stepped into your living room and began taking in the scene. It was a sight to be sure: you, doubled over sitting on your yoga ball, rocking back and forth to try to alleviate some of the pressure in your hips, towel around your neck because you were sweating like a pig, ambient white noise filtering through the bluetooth speaker to keep you calm. For all his usual swagger and poise, Gaz looked a bit frightened.

"Kyle, did John call you? I'm so sorry - I'm sure you were busy-"

"Not at all, I rushed over as soon as I got word." The sergeant came to your side and knelt until he was eye level. "The captain's on his way but I was closer. We didn't want you to be alone any longer than necessary."

"You and your task force are worse than a quilting circle." The jab came with a joking smile, but the smile was cut short by the stab of another contraction. At the sight of your face screwing up in pain, Kyle's eyes got big.

"Can I do something? Do you need anything?" He wrung his hands as he fussed, seemingly unsure whether to touch you or whether you'd bite him if he tried. Admittedly, you weren't too sure yourself.

"Need you to reset - the timer." The words came out through clenched teeth as your muscles tensed and screamed. "Contractions - need to time them."

"The timer - right." He sprung into action, undoubtedly happy to have a defined task to accomplish. As he was fiddling with the device, Price stormed through the door, his demeanor all-business.

"Gaz? What's the situation?" The sergeant hopped to attention as if he was at roll call.

"Got here not long ago myself, Cap. Just reset the timer for contractions."

"Where are we at?"

"Thirteen minutes, sir."

The captain turned to you, assessing you from top to bottom. His expression and his voice softened considerably as he spoke.

"Ready to get to the hospital, love?"

"Can't - they told me to wait until they're five minutes apart." The man looked bewildered.

"And just let you sit here and suffer? Not on my watch. Gaz, grab my keys - "

"John," you interrupted. "I already called. They won't admit me yet. We just need to wait it out."

"Nonsense, love. You wait til I get someone's ear over there. Five minutes my arse." He moved to help you stand, but stopped in his tracks as he took in your face, your lip trembling. "Is there something else?" As if on cue, a fat tear rolled down your cheek, the first of its kind since the pains began.

"This isn't supposed to be happening," you squeaked out. "Not for a few more weeks. Simon's supposed to be here."

The men shared a glance, looking stricken. Price leaned down next to you, a broad hand gently squeezing your shoulder. His voice was soft when he spoke, a renewed slowness replacing his prior rushed pace.

"I know, love. I know it's not ideal, and I know you're scared. I know Simon would give anything to be here, that he'd split heaven and earth to be with you right now. But I also know he'd want you and your little one taken care of, yeah? He wouldn't want you to wait."

You nodded, despite more tears threatening. "Doesn't change the fact they won't admit me yet."

The captain's mouth quirked defiantly. "You let me worry about that. Gaz, help her up. I'll drive."

______________________________________________________________

Simon was tired down to his bones, feeling like a wrung out rag after the most recent mission. Despite that, the man was a ball of energy as he hopped off the plane, desperate to get back to you.

"Someone's antsy," Soap drawled, taking a more leisurely pace. He slid his sunglasses on as Simon switched on his cell phone anxiously. "Got somewhere to be, LT?"

"'Matter of fact I do - home." Simon impatiently hiked his duffel bag higher on his shoulder. "See my wife, eat a real meal. Finally build that godforsaken changing table. Who knew a baby needs so much furniture?"

Soap barked a laugh, but Simon tuned him out as he put his phone to his ear. He'd gotten a voicemail from you, and everything else ceased to matter.

"Hey babe, it's me. I'm not sure when you'll get this, and I hate to worry you. I'm sure it's fine. It's just... I've been feeling some contractions-"

Simon didn't hear the rest, nearly dropping his phone as he broke into a run.

______________________________________________________________

True to his word, Price argued with the hospital staff until you were taken up to a room. You were sure he must have pulled rank, threatened to call people, but he refused to let you worry about it.

The ride had been smooth, despite John driving like a bat out of hell. Gaz stayed in the back seat with you, clinging to your hand and fussing. Later, you'd think it was funny how he seemed to need more encouragement and support than he offered, but at that moment very little was funny.

You had been able to stay in denial for an admirably long time. The past few days, you were able to tell yourself it was just Braxton-Hicks contractions, not the real thing. That even when it became evident the real thing was starting, that it wouldn't progress quickly. That even though it was progressing, that Simon would walk in the door just at the right moment and sweep you into the car and off to the hospital and all would be well. Even when your gut told you to pick up the phone and call the captain, you had managed to make yourself believe that you were wrong, that it was a false alarm, that you still had more time.

Now, here you were, connected to monitors and being poked and prodded by nurses. Medical history, allergies, birth plan, you felt like you were in interrogation rather than a patient receiving care. And if it wasn't the nurses it was the two men standing off to the side, one wringing his hands in worry and one watching the nurses like a hawk and barking questions. The contractions were closer to eight minutes apart now, progressing quickly. Now the situation was very real, and as thankful as you were from the support from Price and Gaz, your heart threatened to shatter at the absence of the one person who mattered most.

______________________________________________________________

"Bloody fuckin' hell, no one will answer their phone!" Ghost barked, ready to throw his out the window. He'd had radio silence other than a second voicemail, this one from the Captain:

"Simon, Price here. Just got word from the missus that the baby's on the way. I'm headed there now. I don't want you to worry about a thing, I won't leave her side. I'll update you as I'm able."

"She knew to call the captain; he's probably with her now," Soap offered from the driver's seat. He'd practically had to arm wrestle Simon for the keys, but ended up convincing him that he'd be able to call for updates if he wasn't worried about driving. Silently, he thanked the saints Simon had agreed; who knows what carnage he'd unleash on the roads as worked up as he was.

"He better be, or I'll - not now, Laswell!" Simon rejected the third call from the station chief since landing and tried Price again. He was sure he'd hear about it for skipping debrief and jumping in the car, but right now he couldn't bring himself to give a shit. When Price's phone again went to voicemail, he was about to go nuclear when the car's Bluetooth lit up with Laswell's number.

"Shite; let me answer it LT." Soap pushed the button. "Laswell, it's Soap. Here with Ghost."

"I know," she said impatiently, her voice filling the space. "I've been trying to call all afternoon. I know what's happening and I'm here to help."

"What? How do you know?"

"Price called me as soon as he got word, asked me to find you. Anyway, you're wasting time heading in that direction; there's a lane closure ahead and you're about to be neck deep in traffic. I've mapped an alternate route for you. Take the next left."

The two men looked at each other in confusion before both starting to speak at the same time.

"Left? That takes us the wrong way-" "How do you know where we're at?"

"Boys! Boys, listen," she continued, exasperated. "Don't worry about how I know, just do as I say. We're gonna get you there as fast as possible. Now turn left!"

Soap cut the car to the left, ignoring the indignant honks of other drivers as he began to cut through the city under Laswell's watchful eye.

______________________________________________________________

"The doctor says you'll be ready to start pushing soon. How are you feeling?" The nurse was genuinely trying to be nice, so you bit back on your retort of how the fuck does it look like I'm feeling? My insides are exploding! and instead chose a weak smile and a head nod.

Once the nurse whisked away, Price was back at your side. You could tell by his expression he wanted to give you a pep talk like you were one of his soldiers about to head into battle, but he was searching for the right thing to say. You broke the silence first.

"I'm scared." Your voice sounded small, the words escaping almost of their own volition. The captain took your hand, blessedly avoiding sugarcoating the situation.

"I know. But you're doing great - a real trooper. Even with the needle in the back! Simon's gonna be so proud of you, love. And Gaz and I are gonna be right here. Right Gaz?"

"Right, Cap." The sergeant slid back into the room, cup of ice in hand. While the captain had taken point and begun advocating for you with the hospital staff and asking a million questions, Gaz had been dutifully making sure you were comfortable. Anything from getting you an extra pillow for your back, to helping you tie your hair back, to getting you ice chips since you couldn't have food or drink during labor, he was on it. If either man was uneasy about what was about to happen, they dutifully kept it under wraps and maintained their game faces.

One by one, the care team took up positions around you to get started. Price and Gaz got next to you, each taking one of your hands, ready to offer what support they could. You shamed yourself, one last time, for being ungrateful for their presence. A lot of people give birth with less, you tried to tell yourself. He’d be here if he could.

The doctor walked in, donning gloves and getting a quick status update from one of the nurses before meeting your eyes. “Evening, ma’am. We’re going to-”

Her words were cut off by a commotion in the hall, a door slamming and what sounded like some raised voices. Everyone in the room exchanged confused glances, and Price motioned for Gaz to go investigate. He poked his head out into the hall for only a moment before returning with a big grin.

“You’re not gonna believe who’s here."

Then your husband was in the doorway, and then he was at your side, and suddenly those honey brown eyes drowned out every ounce of pain and fear you’d been holding onto, and that warm, calloused hand took yours, and you were ready.

______________________________________________________________

You would have thought it would be difficult to fall asleep under fluorescent lights, with monitors beeping and staff bustling around. But you had never known tiredness like this, and wanted to take the nurse’s advice and rest while the pain meds were still working their magic. The delivery had been uneventful once the show was on the road, and Simon never left your side, his steady presence grounding and his voice in your ear keeping you calm. Then there she was, a baby girl, the most precious tiny thing you’d ever laid eyes on. You’d stared at her and cried for hours, stroking her tiny hand and welcoming her to the world until you could barely keep your eyes open. And so, with a squeeze of your hand and a kiss on your forehead from Simon, you found yourself drifting off. You were aware, as you floated off, of his slow pacing back and forth with your newborn daughter in his arms, of his whispers to her that were too low for you to hear. Of the guys popping in, as unobtrusively as possible lest the lieutenant tear them limb from limb for disturbing you and the baby, bringing him food and coffee and admiring the bundle of joy.

“Doesn’t look a thing like you, Simon,” said Soap.

“Thank God for that,” he replied.

“You should have seen it, Simon really - needle this long, right in the spine!” Price remarked, not for the first time. “She didn’t even flinch.”

“I’m just glad you made it for the gross stuff,” mumbled Gaz.

“Kyle, you’re in the military. You’ve seen arms and legs blown off.”

“Completely different, Johnny. Not the same at all.”

On and on they bantered, brothers in arms stepping into their role as uncles for your baby girl with delight. One of the last things you heard was Simon, his voice thick with emotion.

“Thank you, all of you, for being here. For today.”

“Oh come off it Simon,” replied the Captain. “These girls mean something to you, so they mean something to us. That’s what a family is. Now quit hogging her and let Uncle John have a turn.”

You wouldn’t remember this conversation when you woke up, wouldn’t be able to articulate where it came from, but you’d carry with you the bone-deep feeling of connection with this little makeshift family forever.

#cod ghost #cod ghost fanfic #simon ghost riley #simon ghost riley fanfic #simon riley x reader #ghost x reader #mwii ghost #task force 141 #john price #soap mactavish #gaz garrick #kate laswell #mwii fanfic

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joels-shitty-puns · 6 months

Note

I'm gonna make a request again (sorry your last one was too good for me not to ask again) but this time for a jealous Joel! Maybe the reader and him have been friends for a while and she's oblivious to his flirting and she finally lands a date? How it goes from there can be up to you! I just love the jealous and possessive trope.

The Jealousy Bug

Pairing: Jealous!Joel Miller x f!Reader

Hi!! I'm so sorry this took me so long to write, but thank you for the request!! I hope you like it!! I got a lil carried away... hope its not too much smut.

~~~~~

(Reader and Joel live in Jackson, amid the apocalypse)

Word count: 6.8K (oof)

Warnings: 18+ only, MDNI!! Smut smut smut. P in V sex (likely unprotected but not specified. Its an apocalypse, yo.), masturbation (m and f), sort of dubcon? voyeurism?? sorta?, kissing, talk of genitals and arousal, horny behavior. Explicit language and mean names. Alcohol. Violence: infected, guns, punching, mention of a knife. Joel is kind of a jerk sometimes. Possessive. Mentions of loss and grief (all within S.1 of TLOU). I haven't played part II yet so we're just gonna ignore what we know happens there. Joel and Ellie are happy in Jackson. Joel and Reader are friends and sort of neighbors. Clueless idiots in love. A total asshole of a guy in the town. Lil bit of fluff/romance? Mention of bugs (pill bugs), but not in a gross way. If I missed anything, please let me know, and I apologize!

Other Stuff: Avoidance of reader descriptors, other than reader is AFAB. Mentions of having hair on the noggin. She/her pronouns. Reader is clueless and also clumsy as hell. Reader also drinks coffee and alcohol. Italics indicate thoughts.

__________

It was around 4PM when you filed into the community center for another mandatory patrol meeting. It may be an apocalypse, but even now, you wished this meeting could have been an email instead. Alas, that was a thing of the past, and you were unfortunately stuck listening to the usual spiel about necessary vs. unnecessary items to raid… The importance of remembering to ABC, “Always Be Cautious,” plants that can and can't be eaten, etc.

You sat in your usual spot, the back row next to Joel Miller. A year ago when you first moved to this town, first started patrol, you came into this very room not knowing anyone. Friend groups stuck together, each of the two front rows filled, yet a few empty spaces here and there. Instead, you walked towards the back of the room. A handsome man, who you soon learned was named Joel, sat by himself, three rows back, behind the last full aisle. He was alone. The whole aisle of chairs was empty. He sat with his arms crossed, and you could tell based on his posing that he was not the social type.

You were feeling a bit nervous, having finally found a sort of civilization in this mess, and hoping the people of Jackson accept you and not just shoot you, like most camps do when they see unknown faces. Unsure where to sit, you continued to head towards the back, slightly drawn to the gorgeous gray-haired man in the last row. Not wanting to intrude, you sat at the far end from Joel. You could feel his eyes on you as you sat, but you didn't dare look over and make eye contact. Years of survival instincts have told you that, especially when someone doesn't want to be bothered.

_____

When you first walked into the room, Joel looked up. He sat in the back row, as usual, not wanting to get close to anyone. However, even if he did, nobody gave him the time of day. They have heard stories of what he’s done, they have seen him around town, often grumbling about something. They could tell he wanted to be left alone and they had no interest in testing how badly he wanted to be left alone.

Joel found it easier to not form connections. Tommy kept telling him to make friends, come around more, socialize in the town. But Joel had learned over the years why making connections never ends well. All he has is Tommy and Ellie, and neither of those were his initial decision, but Tommy is his only family, and somehow he let himself care for Ellie.

But when Joel saw you… there was a flash of longing. He saw you smile gently at Tommy with a small wave. He could see you shrink walking to your seat past the cliques. You were beautiful, and if it were pre-pandemic, you'd be the exact type he'd probably take interest to.

But those days are over.

Or… so he thought.

He set his eyes back down on his hands in his lap, avoiding eye contact with you when you sat down at the end of the row from him.

Why did she sit so far away? Am I that horrible to be around? His heart questioned.

You don't want to be near people anyway. Good she sat far away. Leave me alone. His brain tried to argue.

Tommy droned on and on, the meeting nearing an hour by now, and you could feel Joel’s eyes on the side of your face every few minutes. You don't know why he kept staring, but it made you feel nervous. Did you have something on your face or clothes? Did you smell bad?

Tommy knew his brother well, sometimes more than Joel likes to admit out loud, and as he talked, he took note of Joel’s staring. At first his expression looked confused, maybe irritated or disgusted. Then it looked slightly… disappointed. But he kept stealing glances your direction, and so with a smirk, Tommy assigned the two of you to be on patrol together. Joel questioned his reasoning afterward, but he knew there was no point arguing with his brother.

After that day, you patrolled together. You both went to the bar with the group after meetings. You sat closer and closer to Joel. You managed to get some words out of him, and he listened to you chatter on. But it was when you brought him a cup of coffee before patrol one morning that he finally let down his guard. His heart had betrayed his defenses.

“What's this?” He asked, gruffly.

“Coffee, Joel…” you replied with a joking eye roll. “It's black. I know you don't like anything in it.”

He took a sip, shocked to taste that you actually knew how he took his coffee. “How did you know that?”

“I notice things Joel.” You patted his shoulder, walking towards the group.

_____

Now, a year later, the two of you were very close friends. You still surprised him with things you remembered or noticed, but much to his chagrin, the one thing you didn't pick up on were his advances. He'd call you pet names, be sweet to you, treat you like a gentleman, flirt a little, and it was like talking to a robot. You were clueless.

Tonight's meeting finally ended, the large group heading outside to the chill fall air. “You wanna get drinks with the patrol squad?” you asked Joel.

“Wouldn't miss it,” he winked at you, putting his leather jacket on his shoulders.

Although you went as a group, ultimately you and Joel spent most of the nights in your own little bubble, occasionally making space in your circle for Tommy, or Maria if she joined.

Tonight, the two of you sat at the bar, the patrol group spread throughout the room at different tables. Joel excused himself to use the restroom, and while he was gone, Jimmy, one of the other patrol members approached you. Hurrying before Joel returned, he flirted and asked you out on a date. You told him you'd think about it, that you weren't sure if you were ready for a relationship after years of caution.

Not technically a lie, you thought. Although you really just weren't ready for a relationship because your heart was already taken by your handsome best friend.

Joel returned just in time to see Jimmy walking away. “What did he want?” Joel grumbled. “Ah nothin, just wanted to say hi while getting a drink,” you lied. Joel accepted this answer and the two of you drank into the night. At the end of the evening, you seemed pretty drunk. Jimmy offered to walk you home, but before you had a chance to reply, Joel replied for you.

“I'll take her home, thanks.” He bit, turning you away from Jimmy. “I don't like the idea of that boy walkin’ you home. Don't trust ‘im. ‘Specially not when you're in this condition,” he wrapped an arm around you, shuffling you toward the door.

“You don't think I can handle myself, Joel?” You asked him, pulling away, a little bit irritated at him treating you like a weakling. “I seem to do just fine on patrol,” you argued.

“I know that, sugar. I didn't mean it like that. I just don't trust that guy. Heard how he goes through women. Don't want him trying’ anything with you,” he brushed his hand over your hair, causing you to soften at his words and actions.

You gasped lightly. “Is THE Joel Miller… jealous?” You knew he wasn't, but why not test the waters?

“What? Jealous? Of what? No ‘m not.” he balked. “Just lookin’ out for you…”

“Mmhm… you just wanna be the only big strong man walking me home, huh?” You teased, tripping over your own feet.

Joel caught you in his arms. “Big strong man, huh? ‘S that what you think of me?”

Shit… did I say that? You panicked. Maybe I'm more drunk than I thought…

Deciding to tease it off, you replied, “well you do always seem to catch me when I fall…” with a wink.

Falling in more ways than one… you thought, frustrated.

He rubbed his neck with the hand not holding you upright. You could almost see a pink tinge to his cheeks.

No, that has to be the lights playing tricks on my eyes… you thought. No way Joel Miller was blushing at your words.

“I kinda have to, ya big klutz. Practically a liability. I oughta tell Tommy to add a safety section on patrolling with you,” he bantered.

“Ah, shut up” you laughed with a push, causing yourself to lose balance instead of Joel. He just gave a knowing look, causing you both to laugh as you continued walking, now side by side instead of him holding you up.

After a few moments of silence, you spoke up. “You know, I could've walked myself home, Joel,” you stumbled, giggling.

“Whoa there, sweetheart.” He wrapped his arms around you again, propping you up. “Don't worry about it. Let's just get you home. You've had way too much to drink.”

“You're so sweet Joel,” you pouted at him, booping his nose. “Joelly Joel.” You giggled. “Jolly Joelly.” Another giggle. “I dunno why people think you're so grumpy. I think you're just a big teddy bear,” you closed your eyes, leaning your head on his shoulder while he stumbled forward, trying to keep you upright.

“Who says I'm grumpy, darlin’?” He tilted his head towards you, smirking. “The whole town, silly. Silly Joelly. Joely-poly.” You gasped abruptly, causing Joel to jerk and turn to face you. “What? What is it?” His hand reached for his knife on his hip. Old habits die hard.

“Joely-poly!!” You squealed. “Awe! Roly-polies. Remember those!? I used to love them when I was little.” You pouted. “Before this whole world went to shit.”

Joel thought back to the little pill bugs, playing in the dirt with them when he was younger. Teaching his own daughter about them. His heart aches for what he lost, but he also thinks of Ellie. He bets she would love the little bugs too.

“That's a cute nickname for you,” you smiled. “They're so cute. Just,” you booped his nose. “Like.” Boop. “You,” you wrapped your arms around his neck, hugging him tight. Another gasp from your lips.

He flinched again. “Darlin’, if you don't quit that I swear-”

“Joeeeel!” You pouted. “Do you think the roly-polies all died off with the infection!?” Your eyes welled up.

“Oh, sweetheart, don't cry. There's probably still some out there. Bugs could get cordyceps long before the fungus attacked humans, and they were still alive back then.” You looked up into his deep brown eyes through your fluttering lashes. “You really think so?” You leaned in, placing both your hands on his cheeks. His breath caught in his chest. “Darlin’, you drank a lot tonight-” you cut off his sentence, running your hands down his neck, resting your palms on his chest. His heart was beating a mile a minute. If he didn't know better, he'd worry his heart would leap out and fly away.

Your eyes lit up and you slid off his chest, lowering clumsily to the ground and gripping his sides for balance. You were now on your knees, eye level with his crotch, hands on his hips. His breath was ragged and his stomach full of twirling butterflies. “Wh-what do you think you're doin’?” He asked nervously. You looked up at him with big eyes, your hands slowly falling down from his hips to his thighs as you tried to balance yourself in your drunken state. He couldn't help but feel his pants begin to tent at the position you were in. He would never take advantage of you in your current state, but trying to ignore the desire brewing in his body after so many months of unrequited feelings was challenging. Did you finally see his advances for what they were? Feelings instead of friendliness?

You grinned up at him, finally regaining balance. “I'm gonna go look for ‘em!” you turned and waddled away on your knees, heading a couple feet away, towards a patch of flowers off the path.

She just needed to use me as a ladder, or what…? Joel thought to himself with a sigh and shaking his head in disappointment, his sexual frustration at its breaking point.

You crawled forward, falling onto your hands and knees in the soft dirt. Joel quickly stepped forward to try and grab you but realized, despite your lack of grace, you meant to do that. “Ugh… darlin', it's dark out here. It's cold. You're drunk. Let's get you home.”

“I'm looking for buggies, Joel!!” You leaned towards a leaf, arching downward so that your face was closer to the ground, ass up.

“Oh, have mercy…” Joel groaned under his breath, his eyes drifting downward. Your ass was up in the air, facing him, the fabric of your dress having fallen forward towards your front. Your light pink panties were on full display for Joel, leaving little to his imagination in this position. Joel subtly adjusted his pants, looking up to the sky and shaking his head in a silent plea.

You whined. “Joel, I don't see any.” You leaned farther forward, wiggling your butt somehow higher. Joel looked around, panicked at the thought that someone else might see you in this position. But luckily, you were close to your house and it was just the two of you out here. He turned back to you again. “I think it's time you get up and we go in-” you moved further forward, the streetlight shining above you and illuminating your ass. Joel tried to be a gentleman, but his eyes betrayed him. As he snuck another glance, he couldn't help but notice a little wet spot over the crotch of your panties. “In-inside…” he finished his sentence, words catching in his throat. He gulped, trying to divert his eyes.

Taking a shaky breath and stepping forward, trying to ignore the throbbing need in his pants, he lightly grabbed your arm. “It's time to go sweetheart. The bugs are sleepin’ I think.”

You looked at him and smiled mischievously. “I know, Joel,” you winked. Jumping up, you scampered towards your house, leaving Joel to wonder what the hell just happened.

“Woman's gonna be the death of me,” Joel muttered under his breath to himself. He caught up to you, just as you both approached your house. “Joel, I don't wanna go home. Can't I stay with you? And Ellie?” you batted your eyelashes at him. He rubbed his neck. “Ellie's with a friend tonight. But, you do have a point. You probably shouldn't be left by yourself in this state. Don't want you gettin’ hurt, or sick, and bein’ all alone.”

“Such a gentleman, Joel.” You touched his bicep, the two of you walking towards Joel's house across the street.

Hardly, he thought, grimacing at the reason he was aching in his trousers, feeling like an old creep, and a terrible excuse for a friend.

Once inside Joel's house, he gave you a baggy sleep shirt and a glass of water with some crackers to help with the alcohol. You changed, brushed your teeth with a spare toothbrush, and used the restroom. He let you have his bed, while he took the couch down the hall, scrunching his legs up to barely fit.

_____

Joel tried his hardest to ignore what he saw earlier and just go to bed, but the aching only continued, making it impossible to sleep. Sure that you must have fallen asleep by now, tucked away in his bed down the hall, he quietly reached into his pajama bottoms and boxers, pulling out his rock-hard penis. Even the mere touch of removing himself from his pants caused him to hiss, so worked up he could have cum just watching you bent over earlier.

He was a gentleman, but he was still a man, and one that hadn't been with a woman in a very long time. With as many people as he'd lost by one means or another, he'd told himself he wouldn't get close to anyone else. Sarah's mom. Sarah. Tess. Bill and Frank. Sam and Henry. He almost thought he had lost Tommy before Jackson, too. It was against his wishes that Ellie crawled her way into his heart, and then he almost lost her as well. He was beginning to think maybe it was him. He was cursed, doomed to have anyone he loved ripped away from him.

Which is why when you came to Jackson, he tried his best to ignore you. But you always greeted him, cheerful and sweet, like a little ball of sunshine that was somehow untarnished by the storm clouds of an apocalypse.

He was irritated to realize that he had made room in his heart for you. You caused an ache in his heart that yearned to be filled. A missing piece in his soul. A place for him to someday fit, tangled between sheets and loving words. It had been about a year since you moved to Jackson, and he still feared getting too close to you, yet he would try his hardest to woo you the way a gentleman should. Sweet nicknames, flirting, gentle touches. You never picked up on it. Whether or not you felt the same, he stupidly fell in love. Unsure if it was mutual, yet pretty sure it wasn't after all this time, he tried to ignore the dirty thoughts revolving around you when the late-night urges would hit him. Somehow it felt wrong.

But tonight, it was hard to avoid. Having you touch him. His face, his neck, his chest, his hips, his thighs. Kneeling eye level with his crotch. Slinking away, sticking your barely covered ass in the air, letting your wet panties be shown to him and only him. He couldn't get you out of his head as he stroked himself. First slowly, but then harder and faster, trying to reach his climax with the thought of him burying himself in that sweet spot underneath your wet underwear. How he longed to see you with his own eyes, begging for him.

He tried to be quiet, to keep himself hidden from you down the hall, but the noise of skin on skin grew slightly louder with each of his quiet moans and panting breaths that managed to slip from his lips. Imagining himself buried deep inside you, taking you from behind in the same position he saw you in earlier, imagining the tight grip around him and the slick noises he could only fantasize about. He could practically hear you moaning and sighing, the sound seeping from his subconscious to the living room. He pumped harder, swirling his thumb around the head, drooling with precum, as his climax grew closer. He could feel his strokes becoming less controlled and his balls pulling upward as he began to shoot load after load of white hot release up under his shirt onto his stomach. Stroking himself through it, he milked his last few ropes of cum out before laying back to catch his breath, slowly tucking himself back away in his pants.

Coming back to his senses, he realized the sounds of your moans and whimpers that he was imagining were still happening. Taken out of his fantasies when he finished, there was no reason for the sounds to still be in his head. Needing to grab a cloth from the linen closet down the hall anyway, he walked, nearing his bedroom door, and heard the unmistakable sound of you pleasuring yourself. Quietly, he padded down the hallway, closer to the door. He could tell you were trying to be quiet, but could still hear you, soft whimpers and pants, surrounded by wet schlick noises.

Fuck, he thought. He could feel himself already getting excited again, despite having just released a few minutes ago. He desperately wanted to join you in his bed, or at the least, stand by the door and listen to your sounds while pleasuring himself, but he wasn't going to be a creep, nor scare you to death. You were still his friend. Even if he did want to move the couch across the living room to hear you better.

_____

Meanwhile in Joel's room, you had tried to sleep. You really had. But tossing and turning, each roll causing your nose to be surrounded with his scent, you were thrown into a frenzy, like an animal in heat. Each smell of his cologne, shaving cream, deodorant, and natural body scent that you picked up from his bed sent a wave of arousal directly to your core. You wondered how many times he'd pleasured himself in this bed and how frequently. You wondered if he ever thought of you while doing it, imagining himself buried deep to the hilt inside of you, each drag of his cock more perfect than the last, much like you were imagining now.

You would be lying if you didn't say there were a lot of handsome men in Jackson. Granted, you had been without romance for a very long time, but still. Many of them were single, and some of them were very sweet and friendly. Yet for some strange reason, your heart had been drawn to Joel. The first moment you saw him, with his silvery curls and his grumpy face, his shining brown eyes and his patched beard, you were smitten. You were a bit disappointed that he seemed to be a massive grump, but despite what everyone said, he was always nice to you. Granted, you were always nice to him, so why should he be anything less, right?

He was always a total gentleman, calling you names like darlin’ and sweetheart, his southern drawl pulling you in like a lasso. His care for his unofficially-adopted daughter warmed your heart, and you could see he was a real family man from both their relationship, and the one he shared with his brother. It warmed your heart, especially when you befriended Tommy and Ellie, getting to hear them talk about Joel. Seeing the love they feel, even if they give him a hard time sometimes. You didn't see how people felt Joel was cruel or heartless, even with the stories you heard. Times were rough, and people did what they had to for survival.

You were always too chicken to make a move, and you figured he wouldn't be interested anyway. Surely him calling you those names and being sweet with you was just his Southern gentlemanly nature, right? You were nice to him, he was nice to you.

So tonight, when Jimmy, the local heartthrob in town, asked you on a date, you told him you'd think about it and let him know. Yeah, you claimed you weren't sure how you felt about relationships after all the world had become. Truth was, you wanted a last chance with Joel before throwing in the towel and settling for Jimmy.

Sure, Jimmy was handsome. Blonde hair, blue eyes, rugged, yet boyish. Several of the women in town had crushes on him, and he had had several of the women in town. You weren't clueless to the rumors about his playboy behavior. But it had been a while and well, you weren't getting any younger. It might be nice to have a partner, even if he did only want a short little fling.

So throwing back a few drinks, you decided you needed the liquid courage to finally make a move at Joel. One last effort to get his attention. You still didn't want to say anything to him, lest it ruin your current friendship that had grown so strong, but you could certainly use your body to entice a little. Drinking just enough to be brave, yet not so drunk that you were completely out of it, you gave an impression you were much drunker than you were, and needed Joel to help you out. Jimmy had almost been the one to walk you home, to your disappointment, before Joel stepped in, seeming slightly irritated about Jimmy's offer.

Yet after practically waving your ass in his face, showing him your panties (which you were sure looked wet), being inches from his crotch at knee height, and hanging on him all the way home, to now sleeping in his house and his bed, you were quite sure he didn't feel the same. Obviously his gestures were pure gentlemanly charm if he didn't bite after tonight's show.

So you tried to sleep, still a little drunk, but getting drunker off his scent. You tried to ignore the ache between your legs but the thought of him in this bed, groaning as his hand pumped his member to completion, made you throb. Soaked and antsy, you finally gave in and stuck your hand under the waistband of your panties. You let your imagination run wild, picturing him taking you in this bed, bringing you to bliss more than once. You could practically hear him groaning and panting, the sound seeping from your subconscious to the bedroom.

Tomorrow you would likely tell Jimmy yes. But tonight, you would try your best to get Joel out of your system, one stroke of your fingers at a time. But as you finished, coming with a whisper of Joel's name under your breath, you could still hear the groans and pants from Joel. Climbing out of bed, you moved to the door, pressing your ear against it. You could just barely hear the sounds of him panting and groaning, intermittent with the fapping of skin on skin. Delightedly surprised, you listened harder, feeling your pussy drool at the thought. How desperately you wanted to go out into the living room and climb on top of him. But he might not want that… he probably just couldn't sleep. Probably nothing to do with the scene you put on earlier. So instead, you slinked back to his bed, opting for round two.

At some point, the two of you fell asleep, panting and writhing with the self-induced pleasure, and the sound of each other through the door.

_____

The next morning, you awoke, walking down the hall to see Joel in his pajama bottoms and no shirt, making coffee. Your eyes scanned his broad shoulders and back, naked and tan. Bringing you back to last night's events, you felt your breath catching in your chest.

“M-morning” you stuttered out, nervously.

Joel jumped, having not heard you. He turned, greeting you with a good morning. A faint blush crept across his cheeks and he quickly turned his head to pour a cup of coffee, offering you some as well. Thanking him, the two of you sipped in silence, both stealing glances at the other and thinking of the night before. Both of you felt like you had a dirty little secret the other didn't know.

“Thanks again for taking care of me last night,” you added. In more ways than one, you thought.

“Of course, darlin’. Couldn't have you walkin’ home all alone or getting sick in the middle of the night. You're always welcome here,” he smiled.

“Well, I guess I better head to my house now,” you sighed. “See you later at patrol?”

“Course. Take care, sugar.” He brushed his hand over your arm. That's new… you thought. But still, probably friendly, unfortunately.

____

Hours later, you show up to patrol, noticing Joel hasn't arrived yet. Still a few minutes early, you look at the map, thinking over the route. You felt a tap on your shoulder, and turned around to see Jimmy.

“Hey, Jimmy,” you greeted, feeling slightly awkward. You assumed he probably wanted (and deserved) an answer. You rubbed your arm nervously, staring at the ground, wondering what to tell him. He was handsome, you thought, and you weren't getting anywhere with Joel.

“Did you, uh” Jimmy scratched behind his ear, “give any more thought to that date?”

Geesh. Not a lot of thinking time here…

“I did,” you replied. “I think… My answer is yes. I'll go out with you.” You felt a pang of regret in your stomach, but you wanted a connection, and you just weren't getting that from Joel, despite what you wanted to think from last night.

Jimmy grinned. “Really?” He picked up your hand, holding it in his. “That's great. I know you have patrol today, but maybe Friday? I'll meet you at your house at 6?”

“Sure,” you gave a small fake smile. “Sounds great.” He still held your hand, warm and soft and nothing like the rugged, large, callused hands of hard-working Joel. Although Joel has never held your hand, the times he's touched your arms, or held you up on your walk from the bar, he left a trail of goosebumps and butterflies in his wake, despite being warm to the touch.

Jimmy went to kiss your hand, just as Joel walked up. “What’s goin’ on here, huh?” He asked, seeming almost… angry, looking from Jimmy, to your connected hands, over to your face. “Joel,” Jimmy dropped your hand, giving Joel a curt nod.

“Jimmy..” Joel replied, teeth clenched.

“I'll see you Friday,” Jimmy smiled at you, touching your shoulder before walking away.

“What did that little asshole want?” Joel growled.

“Geez Joel, chill out. What's your problem? I'm not allowed to talk to people?” You crossed your arms.

“I toldja last night. I don't trust that kid. Too busy sleepin’ around with the whole town. What's he talkin’ to you for?” Joel furrowed his brow, looking over at Jimmy across the room, now talking to some of the other patrolmen.

“Gosh Joel.. seriously what is wrong with you? First of all, he's hardly a kid. He's at least in his thirties. Second of all, everyone he's been with, I'm sure has been consensual, otherwise Tommy would have kicked him out of the town. And lastly, but probably more important. What do you mean “what is he talking to you for?” You mocked in a deep voice. “Like I'm the only option he has left? Like I'm not deserving of a man talking to me? Not that it’s any of your business, friend, but for your information, Jimmy is taking me on a date on Friday. So fuck off, Joel.” You started to stomp away angrily, grabbing your pack off the desk.

“The fuck he is,” Joel muttered under his breath, so quiet you didn't hear and grabbing his pack as well.

_____

Five hours. Five hours of riding in complete silence, checking out abandoned buildings in complete silence, and taking breaks in complete silence. Even your first patrol wasn't this quiet, and you couldn't help but feel like he was somehow angry at you.

As irritated as you were with him, not talking to him somehow felt worse. This wasn't like him. Is this the grumpy side everyone talks about? Is this Joel, the asshole you have yet to meet?

Feeling confused, your eyes started to cloud, slightly teary with anger and sadness, yet also a bit of dread at going out with Jimmy. You blinked your eyes, sorting through the abandoned drug store you and Joel were in.

Finding some condoms on a shelf, you threw them in your pack. “What're you doin’?” Joel asked. “Those can't be sold, didn't you pay attention to Tommy? They're rarely effective this old.”

“Yes I paid attention, Joel. I know they can't be sold. They're for me. I figured it's better than nothing,” you replied bitterly. “I have a date in a couple days, I want to be prepared,” you scowled. Joel’s jaw clenched, but he didn't say anything, instead turning to look the other direction of the aisle.

Crouched down to search the bottom shelf for other items, Joel was still turned away from you, keeping lookout on the other end of the aisle.

You didn't even hear the stalker leap around the corner from the shadows and pounce on you. It opened its mouth, fungal strands spreading from its mouth towards your face. Pure fear pulsed through your veins.

“Joel!!!!!” You cried out, using all your strength to try and push the infected off of your body, but it was too strong.

You screamed and kicked, struggling to break free, when Joel fired his shotgun, shooting the enemy in the head and immediately running over to you. Throwing the infected off of your body as if it was weightless, Joel scooped you into his arms. His lips moved but you heard nothing. Your ears rang, high pitched squeals from adrenaline, fear, shock, and the bang of the shotgun.

Joel pawed over your body, roughly inspecting you for bites and wounds in a frenzy. When he didn't find any, he held you in his arms again. “It's okay baby, it's okay. You're alright sweetheart. Come back to me, it's okay. You're okay.” Your hearing must have returned. He rocked you, tears welling from your eyes and his. “You're okay. I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry.” He kissed your ear and the side of your head, still rocking you in a hug, sitting on the floor, inches from the now-dead infected. The two of you needed to get out of here, but neither of you could move yet.

Finally you spoke. “Why are you sorry Joel?” You asked with a sniffle. You wrapped your arm around his back, the other hand finding the back of his head, gripping his curls gently.

“I'm sorry for how I've been actin’ all day. I'm sorry I didn't see that stalker before he attacked. I'm sorry for being so possessive earlier. I'm sorry,” he held you tighter.

You pulled back to look into his eyes. “Joel, you couldn't have heard or seen that stalker. That's what they do best. You saved me and that's all that matters. As for earlier, you were being an asshole, and it did really hurt my feelings. All this time people have said you're such a jerk, and I didn't see it,” you pulled away from his grip, “but today I did.” You looked at your lap. “Don't I deserve to go on a date? Don't I deserve to have someone love me?” You picked at the hem of your pants, avoiding his eye contact.

“Oh, darlin', I'm so sorry. I never meant for you to feel that way. I just - you deserve something real, not a hookup like that guy wants. I know his type. He'll sleep with you and toss you aside. You deserve to be treated like a lady.”

You snorted. “Yeah, Joel. That's how things are nowadays, too. Gentleman just waiting to sweep me off my feet. Shit, you literally just saved me from near-death, something that happens all the time today, and yet you're saying I deserve love? To find romance? Yeah, right.”

Joel didn't say anything. He just looked into your eyes, lips pursed and moving to the side in thought. His eyes drifted to your lips and back up to your sight.

You continued. “I don't even like Jimmy,” you said quietly. “I like someone else, but I just got tired of waiting and wanted some kind of connection. Even if it's just a night in bed.” At the last part of your sentence, Joel grimaced, almost in pain. And then he thought.

“Wait,” he sat back a little, scanning your face. “Who do you like?”

You gulped. Why not a little more adrenaline? “Well, it was you, until you started acting like an asshole. But I realized you probably didn't feel the same way a while ago. Especially after I practically threw myself at you last night.”

“Threw yourself at me last night? What are you talkin’ about? You were drunk,” Joel answered.

“I wasn't that drunk, Joel. My movements were pretty planned. The placement of my touches on your body. My ass angled up in your direction. I wanted you,” you added, pointedly.

Joel looked like he was solving a complicated math problem. “So you… last night when you… I heard you, in bed, pleasurin’ yourself. Were you… thinking about me?”

You looked up at him in shock and panic. “You heard me?” You asked in a frantic whisper.

“Yeah, I uh… I did. I got up to get a towel and heard your uh… sounds” he cleared his throat.

“I guess I should tell you then that I heard you too,” you said with a smirk.

Joel swallowed, hard. “Y-ya heard me?”

“Yep” you replied, popping your lips on the p sound.

Joel had nothing to lose at this point. “I was thinking about you,” he proclaimed. “Thinkin’ bout that wet spot on your panties when you flashed your ass in the air. Wishin’ I was buried inside you.” He ran his hand across your thigh.

Your breathing picked up. “I was thinking about you too. Wishing you'd bust through that door and take me in your bed, running my nails down your back as we came together…” you mimicked the motion with your fingers down his jacket-clad back.

“Fuck,” he hissed, eyes closing. You glanced down at the noticeable bulge in his jeans. “I like you too, I just never thought you felt the same. Y’never seemed to pick up on any of my sweet talkin’ or my names for ya.”

“I just figured you were being nice,” you replied, glancing back into his eyes.

“You should know by now, I'm only nice to you,” he growled. “I'm sorry I ruined that today,” he glanced at your mouth, licking his lips. “Was just jealous. Want you all for myself,” he stroked your thigh again.

You sighed at the feeling, pulling him by his collar to kiss him deeply. The kiss was frantic and rough, both of you trying to get as much of each other as possible, a year of build-up boiling at the surface. Teeth clashed and tongues danced and you pulled each other closer, grasping at clothes and skin.

The two of you broke the kiss, needing a gasp of air. You started to take off your shirt when Joel stopped you. “Whoa, darlin'. I want you just as bad, but not here,” he gestured to the old building. “It's dangerous, not to mention gross in here. I wasn't kidding when I said you deserve romance,” he stood, pulling you to your feet. “We're about a 20 minute ride from base, let's head home. Make your fantasy of fuckin’ in my bed come true,” he winked, giving a smack to your ass.

_____

The 20 minute ride felt never-ending as you both stole glances at each other, your panties still wet with arousal, and him still sporting the tent in his pants, which was hard to miss.

Finally making it back to the stables, you both quickly undressed the horses and put gear away, about to head out of the barn when Jimmy and his partner rode up. “Hey, babe,” he called to you. It sounded wrong from his mouth. Joel tensed at your side.

Dismounting his horse, Jimmy strolled over to you. “Hey Jimmy, I was thinking. I don't think I want to go on that date after all. I'm sorry, I just don't feel the same way.”

“What?” Jimmy asked in disbelief.

“I know, I'm sorry if I hurt you. I- I like someone else. I just didn't think they felt the same way,” you replied sheepishly.

“Fuck you,” he spat.

“What?” You were in disbelief.

“Fuck you, bitch. One of the few women in this town who won't fuckin’ put out. I was even gonna take you on some shitty date before I got you into bed, and now you make a fool of me? Nah, I don't think so,” he stalked towards you angrily.

You stepped back, worried what he might do, but Joel stepped in first, nailing a punch at Jimmy's nose. “Don't you dare talk to her like that,” Joel yelled.

Tommy came running in, hearing the commotion. After hearing what happened, it was decided that Jimmy wouldn't be welcome in this town any longer.

Satisfied, you grabbed Joel's hand. “Why don't I show you who I really belong to?” You looked up at him, biting your lip.

“Lead the way, baby.” He pushed you forward, smacking your ass.

The two of you stumbled into his house, kissing with little regard for objects. Luckily, Ellie was still at a friend's house. The door slammed closed and you kissed furiously, undressing as you walked. Finally you reached his bedroom and fell onto the bed, where he made all your fantasies of the night prior come true. The two of you enjoyed the taste of each other's mouths, kissing and licking, while he pounded into you, leaving you breathless and screaming his name as you both came.

“That was even better than I imagined,” you sighed, rolling over onto his chest.

“That's my girl,” he cooed, kissing your head and rubbing your back.

“Mine,” he whispered.

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talaok · 9 months

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Hi, I was watching your writing and I'm in love, could you do one where Pedro Pascal and the reader have a child and are very famous?

Pairing: Pedro Pascal x reader

A/n: OK. i'll be honest i panicked cause I don't know if by have a baby you meant giving birth to one or having having it, so I googled it and Google said the first one, so I went with that.

Having to sneak out of your own home while in active labor definitely wasn't on your to-do list, but the mob of paparazzi right at your front door didn't give you much of a choice.

It was midnight, why the hell they were still there was well beyond you, but then again, everything that had happened since you and Pedro were first spotted together had been just as crazy.

It was like a media tornado. Everyone seemed to have an opinion about you, and of course, a constant need to regurgitate it on the internet, magazines, and even newspapers at one point.

It was ridiculous it's what it was.

And when the vultures found out you were pregnant... oof, you can imagine what a shitshow that was.

A camera was being pointed at you every time any of you left the house, whether you saw it or not, you could be certain it was.

And Pedro had tried to do everything in his power to stop it, he wasn't someone who lost his cool very easily, but when it came to you and the child growing in your belly... he transformed completely.

He had filed lawsuits and spoken with everyone he could to let you have some godforsaken privacy and peace, but when that clearly wasn't working he started to get more practical.

You walked everywhere with him now, so that the moment the paparazzi got even a tiny bit annoying he could do his best to try and make them stop (which oftentimes required him to scream at them to "let you fucking breathe").

And now, that the media had somehow obtained your due date, of course, Pedro had planned the perfect escape route.

Which was why he was now backing up the car to rush to the hospital.

"You ok?" he breathed, although his lungs had long been uncooperating.

"yeah" you hissed through another contraction "just-hurry please"

His eyes were on the road the whole time, but you could feel him staring nonetheless.

His right hand was holding yours for dear life, telling you -I'm here, it's all gonna be fine- all the way to the delivery room.

"Just another push" the doctor said, and you obliged, pushing and squeezing Pedro's hand until all his veins were seconds from popping.

And then-just when you were ready to say fuck it, I'm done here, you heard it- you heard the cry, and you didn't know why, you didn't know how... but tears, tears a mile long started flowing from your eyes.

"It's a girl," The doctor said, handing the now blanketed child to you, into your arms.

If you could you would have told him that it wasn't a good idea, that your arms felt about as strong as noodles right now- but all you could do was watch, as the baby -your daughter- stared back at you with her dad's eyes.

"hey" you felt a voice to your left, and turned to find Pedro crouching beside you.

"hey there" he whispered to the baby, letting his finger trail her minuscule face.

"It's your daddy," he murmured "Listen, I know you're probably tired and don't wanna listen to me, but I just wanted you to know-" he paused, looking almost unbelieving, like he was waiting for the moment he would blink, and everything was gonna disappear, his daughter, you, everything he cared for the most in the world just... poof.

But you didn't.

And he still couldn't believe it.

"I just wanted you to know that I love you" he said, "I love you and your mommy more than anything, anything in the whole world" he kissed her pretty forehead "And I swear... I swear I'm gonna spend every single day of my life proving it"

You smiled through the tears, as he struggled to fight back his.

"I'm sorry, we need to take her for a moment" The doctor spoke again,

You had forgotten he was still in the room.

"Do you?" Pedro asked, although he already knew the answer

"We do, Mr. Pascal, I'm sorry, we need to wash her and make sure she's all right"

He sighed, looking down at the tiny creature in your arms with a glint in his eyes you had never seen before.

"fine" he mumbled

You sniffled, staring down at her.

"I love you." you murmured, kissing her cheek "God, I love you so much" you chuckled, before handing her to the nurse.

Please be careful, you had to fight the urge to say.

And just like that- only you and Pedro remained in the room.

Silence, a light, stunned, happy silence fell- and only after you regained consciousness, and realized what just happened, did all the noises come back.

The beeping of the monitor, the buzzing of the tv, and- and shouts from outside, talking and murmuring of what you already knew was a crowd.

Pedro must have noticed too, because he went to peek from the window.

"I'm gonna kill them" he sighed, his forehead falling to the glass, watching as interviewers and paparazzi clogged the entrance of the hospital.

"It's a lot?"

"Yeah"

Again, silence.

"Baby?" you called

"yes?"

"We'll think about it later," you said, holding your hand out for him.

He immediately took it.

He crouched next to you and you looked at one another, so many things to say and yet no idea how to say them- until- until-

"We have a daughter" you smiled

And he laughed, he laughed all the happiness and anxiety right out of his body.

"We do" he grinned, his eyes teary "We have a daughter"

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yourstingrey · 21 days

Note

do you think you could write a luke x y/n friends to lovers based on too sweet by hozier? Maybe have it be a little angsty like someone tells him he’s not good enough and so he distances himself. I really love your writing and feel like you would write it beautifully.

Too Sweet Pt.1

Thank you so much for this request I loved this idea its so cutie im so sorry it took so long for me to make but hopefully Ive done it justice this one is a bit short but I kinda reallyyyyy wanted to put it into separate parts (which i swear wont take as long but it will be longer cus i gotta get that juicy angst in better!!!)

Hot.

That's all I felt as I was training, That's all I ever feel when I train with Luke. Not because he’s insanely hot himself but he has to put his all into everything even if I ask for practice with sparing. I'm crouched down a bit less like a fighter's stance as Luke has already got me winded but I try to hold up my tough gaze as he stands in front of me mirroring my stance except he's not tired at all it looks like he has even lifted a finger but this is our third go and unsurprisingly he's won every time so far. “Y/N/N are you sure you don't wanna give up? I'm not sure I can watch your face get all sad when you lose again.” He’s smirking as he talks and for a second he puts his hand on his chest to fain sadness about me. In that split second, I take the opportunity to try to tackle him to the ground.

He lets out a surprised Oof before he hits the ground I try to grab his hands to pin them down “I'm not so sure Luke I think you be pulling your sore loser face” Of course I didn't learn from Luke as my talking got me too distracted as Luke flips us over and now he's pinning me down into the dirt. He simply smirks and does a little tilt of his head pretty much signaling id lost. He stood before holding out his hand for me to get up which I gladly took from him. “Luke, I asked for practice. I thought you were going to go a little easy… I'm gonna have to sleep early or I'm gonna be so sore.” Discomfort on my face as I brush the dirt off my shorts and shirt “About that…” Luke says with a certain tone I've learned means ‘I'm gonna try really hard to convince you to do something you're really not gonna wanna do’ “Oh god what is it, Luke…?” A mischievous look spread across his face “Apollo kids are having a small lake party tonight and I was thinking I could take you” I let out a taut laugh before squinting my eyes playfully at him “Weren't you already out partying last night! Chris was telling me all about it!” I watched his face flush a bit as he stood there watching me talk before stammering his words “Wait- when did you see Chris today I wasn't with you??” I narrow my eyes at him a bit “This morning I went on a walk and I ran into him yknow you're not denying it soooo i'm right you did go out…?”

He gets up from leaning against a pillar to come put his arm around my shoulders and start walking out of the arena “Well yes.. But! I wasn't hanging out with my best friend so that's why I'm telling you that you gotta come out this time!”

“Luke you're always out so much lately don't you think YOU especially should rest, oh so great swordsman!” I clasp my hands to my chest whilst looking up through my lashes at him. He lets out something between a laugh and a scoff “You know that I do this all the time you're the one who always stays cooped inside her cabin almost all day usually!” Our steps absentmindedly got slower as we approached my cabin “I don't know Luke… I promised I was going to hang out with my siblings tomorrow and if I party with you I might forget or sleep in'' He opened his mouth to rebuttal me but I quickly cut him off “And andddd! You know I don't like to drink. I'm too nervous about being caught!”

We finally got to my cabin but I stood outside because I knew Luke wouldn't be satisfied unless I let him try to convince me one last time. “For one, You see your siblings every day you live with them. Plus I know some of your siblings are coming tonight anyway!” I go to open my mouth ready to shut him down already but before I had the chance Luke swiftly made sure to playfully cover my mouth with his hand before tsking at me and putting his finger to his lips shushing me “Ahem as I was saying YN, I'll be with you the whole time you can rely on me the whole time, just go this once for me and if you hate it I'll never force you to come again!”

He lowered his hand from his mouth to reveal my lips in an exaggerated frown. He let out a loud laugh before huffing out what sounded like ‘Oh c'mon now’ but it fell on deaf ears as his fingers went to my sides to get me to let out a laugh (well more than just one) I laughed so hard at his relentless tickles hunching myself onto him before we heard the laughs of my sibling behind and Luke turned back into a stoic statue practically I let my laughter die awkwardly as he separated from me. Rocking back and forth on my heels I look back at him “Well okay I guess I'll think about it… but this isn't a yes okay!!” He let out a small chuckle before slowly starting to walk backwards “I’ll see you later tonight” he flipped around completely to start walking away I let out a small laugh turning away to walk to my cabin door before something dawned on me, I flip around and yell back out to him “Wait Luke how will I know where to go!!” He turns back to me putting his hands behind his head with a sort of arrogant smirk on his face

“Don't worry about it, I am a messenger aren't I?”

#luke castellan x reader #luke castellan #luke castellan fic #luke castellan fluff #luke castellan angst #pjo x reader

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mncxbe · 5 months

Note

Heyy hope you're doing well!! I'm not sure if you have done this before and sorry if you did but could I request akutagawa and reader fucking after a really long time? Like the reader was on a really long mission out of Yokohama or with her friends or whatever which causes Akutagawa to....you know be pent up after being away from his s/o for so long and super needy. I just feel like he would absolutely pounce on them once they return lol!!

oof oof yes anon you cooked a good idea👀 tbh I see him being super impatient and needy but he's too prideful to show it at first. but anyway I hope you like this hihi♡♡

°☆○

Teasing♡

𝑨𝒌𝒖𝒕𝒂𝒈𝒂𝒘𝒂 𝒙 𝒇𝒆𝒎!𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒆𝒓

𝑮𝒆𝒏𝒓𝒆: smut♡/ Aku degrading you lil bit (use of word slut)

Akutagawa's patience was starting to wear off with each torturous second that passed. It's been two hours since you got home from your trip to Kobe and you didn't so much as lay a finger on him.

Naturally, you hugged him as you entered your shared apartment; shopping bags hanging loosly from your arms, luggage rolling behind you on its little wheels, but nothing besides that.

And oh, how cruel you were to him. You knew how much he missed you, how your two weeks absence has been utterly unbearable, how pent up and needy he was. You noticed his bulge the moment you entered your apartment yet still did your best to avoid granting him the sweet release he needed.

You busied yourself with unpacking the luggage, took your time with a boiling hot shower and, pouring yourself a glass of wine, lounged on the couch.

"Come on, sit" you urged him with a sly smirk on your face, innocently patting the empty spot beside you "I've got so many thing to tell you about my trip"

And so Akutagawa sat himself next to you and listened absentmindedly to you rambling on about your vacation. He couldn't even focus on what you were saying; he was too focused on the way your pretty lips wrapped around the brim of your glass. It should've been his cock instead.

At some point you noticed the glazed look in his eyes and chuckled lightly, placing a hand atop his thigh.

"Something wrong sweetie?" you asked, voice tinged with mirth.

Your boyfriend scoffed in response and gave you a suggestive glance. "What do you think, hm, sweetie?" he replied begrudgingly, purposefully articulating the last word.

"Ya know. If you want something you should just ask for it" you continued teasing, raising the glass to your lips.

But Akutagawa wasn't a man of many words and his pride didn't allow him to indulge your little games, to beg you to take care of him; so he simply took what he wanted from you.

As for now your face was pressed against the pillows on your bed, back bent into a perfect arch as he drilled his cock inside you. His body was stretched along your back, so close you could feel the heat radiating off of his skin and you could clearly make out every little moan and grunt that rolled past his lips, his hot breath dripping all over your neck and cheeks.

"Ryuu~ fuck baby s'too much" you babbled out between soft moans, fingers clawing at the damp sheets beneath you.

"Shut up" he spat, voice laced with annoyance as his thrusts grew deeper and faster. "All you did tonight was talk, talk, talk like a broken record. Shut up and take me like the good little slut you are"

Pearly tears pooled at your lashline as your walls fluttered around him. You weren't used to this side of him, so demanding and mean but you didn't complain at all. The tip of his cock kissed your sweet spot with each thrust, making you see entire constellations.

One of his hands came to rest on the small of your back, deepening your arch in an attempt to ground himself as he picked up the pace.

"Ya like that sweetie? Being fucked dumb on my cock? Bet you missed it these past weeks you desperate slut"

You were too far gone to utter any clever remark about how he was the needy one, not you; so you resumed to mumbling a mhm as you closed your eyes shut and bit down on your bruised lip.

Your boyfriend buried his face in the crook of your neck, panting softly, the warmth of his breath sending waves of pleasure through your body. He was close, desperately chasing his own release and you knew it.

You managed to find the arm that supported the weight of his body and brushed your fingers against his. He took the hint and placed his hand on top of yours, fingers entertwining with your own as he squeezed them tightly.

"You close too baby? Wanna cum?" he uttered between ragged breaths, any hint of malice in his voice now gone and you nodded.

"Need to cum f'you please"

"Then go on. No one's stopping you baby you've earned it" he urged you and on cue you gushed around him, spasming walls milking him dry.

"Shiiit~ fuck sweetie" he groaned as he pressed his hips flush against your ass, spilling his load inside you. His arm finally gave away and he toppled to the side, laying beside you, your hand still in his as he drew little circles on it with his thumb.

"Thank you baby. I really needed this" he huffed, pressing a kiss to the nape of your neck and you shivered lightly, still coming down from your high.

"Anytime" Your skin tingled as he wrapped an arm around your waist and breathing against your neck, mumbled a soft 'I love you, missed you so much' before closing his eyes. Weariness took over your body too and soon enough you drifted into a deep slumber in his arms.

#bsd #bungou stray dogs #bsd x reader #bsd smut #akutagawa bsd #akutagawa x reader #akutagawa smut

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gabessquishytum · 3 months

Note

cw: past self-harm, past suicide attempt Morpheus and Hob have already been dating for a few months, but they've always made love only with the lights off. Morpheus asked about it from the very start, just like he asked not to touch his arms and thighs, and Hob respected his boundaries. Morpheus hopes he gets a pass as the shy, socially awkward weirdo that he is, but the truth is, he's afraid to be deemed broken and not a bf/husband material. The thing is, Morpheus has scars. He had been self-harming for a while, and tried to take his life a few years ago. He IS doing better now: he's still on meds and in therapy, but he finally can control his self-destructive tendencies, and he's even doing much better in terms of his eating disorder. He works hard, and he's got a lot to be proud of. Still, he's certain his past would scare Hob off, so he's trying to figure out for how long he can keep Hob satisfied with sex in the dark and what to do if (when! he's sure that moment would come) Hob asks him to switch at least low light and touch more skin.

Oof, this one made me tear up a bit. To anyone out there at any step on the recovery journey, please know that I'm so proud of you. You are working hard, and I promise that its going to pay off.

I think Hob would obviously be sad to know that Dream has suffered so badly. But I also think that he would be utterly unbothered by the scars. Like, aesthetically? He doesn't mind at all - theyre as much a part of Dream as any other. He's not repulsed, not scared off. He's proud of Dream, and sorry if he's ever pushed at his boundaries too much.

Truthfully, Hob has scars too. All kinds - mostly injuries from doing sport or doing stupid stuff while drunk. There's the one where he got his appendix out. There's also the remnants of cigarette burns on his forearms, which Dream has seen many times but never heard Hob talk about. Hob shows them to Dream more closely and explains that many years ago his girlfriend died and in his grief, just to feel something - Hob used to hurt himself like that.

Dream is really surprised, because Hob seems so... functional and mentally stable. Knowing that Hob has struggled too gives Dream a lot to think about, in fact. Although he doesn't quite feel ready to be under the glare of a light, he decides to let Hob touch the places where his scars are bad. Just the two of them, in the dark together, Hob’s fingers gentle on his skin.

It's another step on the path that Dream has been walking alone, so far. But now Hob is with him. And suddenly a life of recovery doesn't seem quite so difficult or lonely. Hob loves him, scars and all, and that makes everything feel just a little bit easier.

#the sandman #dreamling #cw self harm #cw sui mention #cw scars #cw suicide

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ivorryskies · 4 months

Note

Can I request Dazai x fem!reader in an arrange marriage??? Also a Royal AU?

I think id be a very cute oneshot!

Tysm

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷prompt: All the pretty stars shine for you my love, am I that girl you dream of? all those times I said that I'm your girl, you make me feel like your whole world. -pretty when you cry

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷pairings: Dazai x fem!reader royal au

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷warnings: royal problems that's it.

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷Felix's note: OMG! ofcourse, I love this request so much thank you for this, sorry if its a little long I got carried away also can you recognize one of the Enola Holmes reference?. pink hearts divider by: @cafekitsune <3

"hello Prince....?" you were standing next to a small boy after your parents told you you'll be spending a lot of time together.

"Dazai, and you are...? princess?"

" 'name' " you smiled reaching out to shake his hand. Your parents and Dazais Father smiled at you two and continued to carry on their conversation at the table. As you two talked to eachother at your own table. Due to the issues between 2 of the most prosperous nation, both the children were given in the marriage of one another. It was for diplomatic reasons.

⋇⊶⊰❣⊱⊷⋇

And that is how you ended up right now. As the two of you gre older your parents forced you together. Dazai's father training him to take the throne and you were forced to learn all the rules and regulations. "please, leave" you said annoyed, your parents were throwing you two an engagement ball in Dazais nation and he was here to pick you. You didn't mean to lash out on him but you've been learning since morning about your duties and how to run a nation all the while keeping within the lines.

You heard him sigh and leave as your stylist shut the door, to get ready. You stood on the platform and she picked some items of clothing for you. It wasn't that you didn't like Dazai, he was a charming prince who every commoner to royalty liked but you couldn't express or find the words to what you were feeling.

"oof" you huffed as the stylist tied your corset. You went to the dressing table to get everything done and after an hour you were ready. You exited the dressing room to be greeted by Dazai standing beside your door waiting. "you waited?" you asked a bit surprised. "Would rather stay here than out". He said looking at you like you were the most beautiful pearl in the ocean. He had thought about it. He didn't mind being engaged to you at all but he knew that you hated it. You weren't mean to him per say but agitated at the things you were forced to do.

"well then what are you waiting for? shall we go?" you asked and walked past him to open the door. You both walked the halls and all of the servants stared in awe at you two. You looking like a majestic angel and he a celestial being in his formal attire. He stopped in his tracks and you looked behind at him and raised a brow in a questioning look. He took out a white rose and put it in your hair. "well, thank you" you gave him a half smile while he returned it with a genuine smile "anything for my lady". You cringed at that "oh shut up". You two continued to walk to the car.

⋇⊶⊰❣⊱⊷⋇

You reached the ball and heard the people saying how good you two looked, how some ladies and dutchess envied you. You two sat on the thrones next to your parents. As the ceremony commenced you couldn't help but look at Dazai and how he talked to people, how he acted and the little to no details you noticed about him. You wanted to be independent, to rule on your own if not for the stupid deal, you thought he was going to slow you down, but you cant help but feel attached to him, ofcourse he didn't have to know anytime sooner, or...as you planned?

Something made you ick at the Dutchess of your own state talked to Dazai, twirling her hair, laughing, fluttering her fan, and then in the end you saw her and Dazai leaving together in a room...wait IN A ROOM?! That's when you drew the line. Yes you were in denial about loving him and you didn't like the forcible engagement but he was still ENGAGED to you.

You stood up and began to walk to the room and opened the door to see the two talking. "Dear Fiance please tell me where the restroom is in your palace" it came off a bit passive aggressive but ok. . She looked at you and then spoke to Dazai "please sir, i've been meaning to talk to you". He says "perhaps another time i do share your interest" as he left the room to lead you to the bathroom. "your seeing the dutchess??". You said abit agitated.

"shes gone she was flustered. It's okay she wanted to discuss diplomatic relations." You rolled you eyes. "i'm telling you really i have no eyes for anyone but-". You went deep into thought zoning out not hearing what he says. He said something about the reason he gives you gifts or something before you tapped out remembering the first time you met. When your parents signed your life away. When you felt him grab your arm.

"Did you understand what i said?". "YES. you were saying that you..." you stopped to think remembering the times he did stuff for you, When Dazai comforted you after harsh lessons, when he brought you gifts. He looked at you with a serious expression. "It means I love you, now we must return outside Father is looking for me bu-". You interrupted "yes we must return we have much to talk about my dear dear lord you love me, and it appears i love you to" You looked at him with a soft smile. He smiled, not a smirk like usual, a genuine smile as he closed the gap between you two kissing you softly for real.

A Happily Ever After. <3

#bsd imagine #bsd #bsd scenarios #bungo stray dogs #dazai x reader #bungo stray dogs x reader #dazai osamu #bsd dazai #dazai imagine #mafia dazai x reader #bsd imagines #bsd x reader

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the-kr8tor · 8 months

Note

i absolutely love how you write hobie, so tenderly and sweet but still very much hobie😭❤️I was wondering if I could ask for hobie with a s/o with fibromyalgia, maybe fluff hurt/comfort? I don't know if you're familiar with it but it's kind of a chronic pain disorder, (I just got diagnosed oof), totally okay if you're not comfortable with it tho!

I'm sorry that you're going through this, I hope this helps lift your spirits, I'll keep you in my thoughts, hun ❤️ I hope I wrote this okay, I did some research about it, to make sure I'm writing it well for you. Sorry this took awhile, hope you're doing okay ❤️

Pairing: Hobie Brown x gn! Reader/ Spider-Punk x gn! Reader

Tags: no use of Y/N, no specific physical description of the reader, descriptions of pain, Hurt/Comfort.

ʕ⁠·⁠ᴥ⁠·⁠ʔ

You lay on your back, the old sofa's springs digging into your shoulder which certainly doesn't help the throbbing pain in your entire body. You're in too much pain to move into the bedroom, especially with the sharp pain digging in your feet. Hissing out when a wave of pain sends shivers through you.

Hobie holds out a cold glass of water near your head, the condensation drops on your cheek, Hobie reaches out to wipe at it quickly but carefully, so as to not cause you anymore discomfort.

"Sorry," his long fingers grazing your cheek gingerly. Hobie crouches down to your eye level, eyes gauging your emotions. " 'm sorry, love" you don't know if he's apologizing for what happened, or if it's because you're in pain.

He hates seeing you like this, your face scrunched up, eyes glistening at him. Hobie wishes he could just take it away from you. Fight it for you. He drops the glass right next to him, you crane your neck to look at him, despite the dull pain, a tight lipped smile.

"It's okay, not your fault" you softly say.

"You haven't drank water in a bit, sorry"

"Stop apologizing, I know you mean well" you raise your finger at the knit on his forehead, trying to straighten it out. "I'll take that water please"

You lift yourself up, Hobie rushes to help you, his hand warm on your hand and back, his grip on you is soft, fully aware of his strength. You exhale, thanking him with a small smile.

Hobie crouches in front of you, he wipes the glass, getting the condensation off it, before handing it to you. You gulp it down, not realizing how thirsty you've been.

"Thank you" he grabs the glass from you, careful not to touch your fingers.

You notice he's been avoiding touching you, opting for small careful touches, you completely understand his sentiment, not wanting you to feel any additional discomfort from his touch. But you want it though, he doesn't know how much it helps, how he helps.

Hobie can't read your mind, so you hold out your hand towards him. "Can I hold your hand?"

Hobie smiles "I'll always say yes to that" he lifts his palm over yours, drawing small circles over your wrists. "This okay?"

"Mm-hmm" you tilt your head, watching as his large hand envelops yours. He places a small kiss over your knee, heat blossoming on your face from the affection.

"It'll be okay, yeah?" He stops himself from resting his forehead on your leg. Instead he watches as you look at him through half lidded eyes. His heart aches for you.

You answer him by squeezing his hand three times. He knows what you meant, so he squeezes back gently, three times, then a small kiss over your fingertips.

"Do you want me to carry you to the bed? This old couch won't do you any good" you know he's not scolding you, genuinely concerned how the bumpy couch isn't helping you.

"Okay"

He stands up, delicately holding onto you. He's cautious of where he's stepping, as to not jostle you too much. Hobie lays you gently on the bed.

"There, let me grab you another glass" before he could leave, you grab his hand, stopping him from his tracks.

"Stay? Please"

"Of course" he goes around the bed, laying next to you. You shuffle closer to him, your fingers intertwined, helping you fall asleep, knowing when you wake up he'll be right next to you.

ʕ⁠·⁠ᴥ⁠·⁠ʔ

Thank you for reading ❤️ please consider reblogging if you enjoyed ❤️

#request done #hobie brown x reader #spider punk x reader #the kr8tor's creations #spider punk #hobie brown #spider man across the spider verse #x reader #atsv fanfiction #atsv x reader #atsv fanfic #atsv hobie #hobie brown x gn!reader #spider punk x gn! reader #hobie brown x you #spider punk x you #description of pain #fanfic

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weministertomonsters · 3 months

Text

Naga Father (Araza) x gender-neutral reader - 2

"Just a few kids from school won't hurt, Mr. Araza. You have to give Sam a chance at a normal life," you say in exasperation, shaking some food into your cat's bowl and balancing the phone against your shoulder.

You've been babysitting Sam occasionally for a few months, enough to feel somewhat comfortable with pressing the subject of holding a birthday party for Sam.

"He's not normal," is Mr. Araza's reply, and you grit your teeth for a second before you blow your breath out slowly, forcing yourself to calm down.

"I know you're trying to toughen him up in your own way... But he's going to end up hating you if you don't ease up now and then. Sam is smart, you know. He can figure out how to live in a world of humans on his own."

"I know what's best for my son," Mr. Araza says, and you hear the shuffle of papers in the background.

"Oh, are you working? Did my call interrupt you? Sorry, I'll hang up now. Just think about it, okay?"

Before he has the chance to respond, you hang up.

"He's a tough nut to crack, Ginger," you say to your orange cat who is happily crunching down on his food. "I wonder what happened to make him like that?"

On a whim, you grab your phone and look his name up. There he is, featured in an article from a prominent news station. He was one of the two nagas rescued from a monster trafficking ring that got busted fifteen years ago. There's a picture of him with the other monsters that were rescued. He's staring blankly at the camera, a blanket wrapped around his thin shoulders. The other naga was too weak and passed away in the hospital. Everything makes sense now.

You put your phone down and stare hard at the wall. No wonder he's so fiercely protective of his son and pushing him to survive the best he can. Your phone buzzes and you look down to see a text from your best friend, Cora.

Hi Tobi, it reads, I know this is short notice, but I totally forgot I had a marriage counseling appointment today and we can't leave Annabelle alone! Do you have 2 hours to spare? I made chocolate chip cookies this morning!

A smile curves onto your lips and you type a reply.

I'll be there in 10 minutes

Cora only lives a couple of blocks away, so you end up walking there. Cora and her wife are in the driveway, ready to leave.

"Tobi, you're an angel!" Cora says, coming forward. "I present to you my devil spawn."

Annabelle squirms restlessly in her mother's grip, nibbling on her forearm. The five-year-old had new teeth coming in and apparently, her mother's arm is a serviceable chew toy.

"She's got a ton of energy today," you laugh and scoop her up.

The pup smells like baby shampoo and cookies. You wave her parents off and hoist her onto your shoulder.

"So what do you want to do?" You ask her.

"I want ice cream!" She yells, her knee catching you in the ribs.

"Oof. Isn't it a little too close to lunch?"

"I want a burger too! With cheese!"

"Demanding, aren't you? An alpha in the making for sure. Okay. We'll have burgers and ice cream. Just don't tell your mommy okay?"

She grins and nods. The commercial strip is within walking distance and even if it's a bit far away you figure Annabelle could use a long walk. As you walk together you're making a mental note not to marry a werewolf. Even a half-werewolf would be hyper, but Annabelle is out of this world. She's so bouncy that half the time her feet aren't even on the ground. You're forced to herd her around now and then so she doesn't hop off the sidewalk.

You're relieved when you reach the ice cream shop because it has a fenced-in playground.

"I'm going to make a sandcastle!" Annabelle shrieks, charging towards the sandbox.

"Okay, darling." You grab your phone and text Cora.

Bestie, what's up with Belle today?

Too much sugar :( my bad. I caved and let her have frosted flakes for breakfast Cora texts back.

Oh boy. Then ice cream is going to be a bad idea. Idly you walk up to the swings, wondering how you're going to convince her to get something else. And then you notice Mr. Araza and freeze. He pauses too, looking down at you. You have to put a hand up to your face to hide your grin because he's on the monkey bars. It's sturdy enough to hold his weight, but he looks ridiculous. His son is underneath, head craned up to look up at his father.

"Hello," you say politely.

"Papa is stuck," Sam says, turning to look at you. "Help him, Tobi."

You gulp down a burst of laughter and bite your lip hard, trying not to let your amusement show. Mr. Araza's golden eyes narrow, and his tongue flicks out, tasting the air. His eyes turn into annoyed slits and he lets out a huff. His tail is wound through the rather sophisticated monkey bars, and you can see he's stuck in more than one place.

"How did you even get up there?" You ask.

"I was... Teaching Sam how to climb," he says, and you can't help the small laugh you make this time.

"I do not find this humorous, neither should you," he hisses. "My tail is going numb. If it's not too much trouble, I would appreciate a hand."

You glance down at Sam. "Hey, I brought a friend with me, and she's the same age as you. Maybe you could play together?"

Sam looks doubtfully at Annabelle, who has forgotten about her sandcastle and is digging a hole in the sandbox. Then he nods and shyly slithers over to say hello. You turn back to Mr. Araza and put your game face on.

"How about I make you a deal? Promise to actually think about throwing a party for Sam, and I'll help you."

His pupils widen in shock. "You can't be serious," he scoffs.

You reach out and poke at his tail. "I dunno, Mr. Araza. You seem stuck pretty good."

"For heaven's sake," he rolls his eyes and his shoulders slump a little. "Fine. Quickly now, I look ridiculous."

You grin. "Then it's a deal," you say and walk around him in a slow circle, calculating.

You're not sure how you're going to get him out. The monkey bars are about six feet high, and he's right on top.

"Okay, I think I've got this," you say and begin to climb.

The next ten minutes are the most awkward ones of your life. You almost fall off twice. Mr. Araza twists his upper body to look at you, and his mouth turns down.

"You're going to hurt yourself this way."

"I'm good," you say, hooking your feet against the bars as you grab the thinnest section of his tail at the end. "You've kind of tied yourself into a knot here, mister," you tell him. "Can you move the end of your tail to the left?"

His tail moves, the end of it curling around your wrist.

"Okay," you mumble.

You succeed in freeing that section and move upwards.

"You're not a cat, you know. You can't fit in just any space," you tell him and you wrap your arms around his tail and press your chest against it like you're about to lift something really heavy.

Which is exactly what you're about to do. His tail is a solid hunk of muscle, his scales rasping against your bare arms. Maybe you press a little too hard or something, but he hisses and it's not a normal hiss. It's a "get your fucking hands off me right now" kind of hiss.

You jerk your hands back. "Sorry, sorry," you say.

You have just touched softer, more sensitive parts of his tail where scales have been ripped away. Naga scales are incredibly hard to damage or remove but after your research this morning, you can guess how that happened.

His claws clank against the bars as he repositions himself. He won't look at you but maybe that's a good thing. If he looks at you, he'll be able to tell that you know.

"Just get on with it," he mumbles, wiping sweat from his forehead.

You take a deep breath and carry on. He doesn't make a single sound after that, not even when you have to pull so hard that he shudders.

"Need some help?" An employee from the ice cream shop calls over, finally having noticed.

"No, I've got it," you call back.

Just one more section to go. Araza is sprawled on the monkey bars, his torso pressing against them. That can't be comfortable. The way he's gone so still and pliant worries you.

"Are you okay?"

He nods, his hair falling over his face.

"Look at me," you command. "Please?"

He darts a furtive glance over his shoulder. His eyes are glassy, like he's partly somewhere else. Not good. Quickly, you balance your feet on the bars and tug. He comes free and falls off the monkey bars with a thud, taking you with him.

"We're okay," you say to Sam and Annabelle, who look up curiously.

"They're playing," Annabelle giggles to her new friend.

Sam looks worried, but then smiles and goes back to playing. You realize your legs are tangled up in his tail and gently extract them.

"You okay?"

He shoots upright, rolling over to the underside of his tail is against the floor.

"I'm fine. Thank you," he says airily, brushing leaves out of his hair.

All signs of vulnerability are gone.

"Great," you say, trying not to sound too bright as you stand up and dust yourself off. "I'm sure you won't do that again," you laugh.

He flexes his claws. "I have learned a valuable lesson. Your human trappings are terrible replacements for trees."

"Try a park next time," you suggest. "Were you here for ice cream?"

"I promised him a reward for his hard work in school. I did not think he would suggest such a ridiculous-"

"We're here for ice cream too!" You say brightly. "How about we all go in and get some?"

If Mr. Araza is about to protest, Annabelle's excited screaming knocks it out of him.

"Please do not tell me that is your child," he says flatly. "She is untrained."

"She's just a kid," you say. "She can be very loud, I'll give her that."

"Come on," you tell the two children, "let's go get ice cream."

Later on, after you've dropped off a sleeping Annabelle- amazingly enough - at her home and gone home with a gift of a box of chocolate chip cookies, you get a call from Mr. Araza.

"I have made up my mind," he says.

"About the birthday party?"

"Yes," he says, and you begin to dance in triumph.

"On one condition," he adds sharply. "I don't know what a party entails. I'll need your help."

"Oh, you don't have to ask twice!" You say happily.

Maybe the upright naga is finally warming up to a little living...

~ • ~ • ~ • ~

The amount of times I mention "ice cream" in here, lol! 😭

#exophilia #terato #monster x reader #monster x human #naga

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five-rivers · 1 year

Text

Buried in the Woods

@snops Hello! I'm your Truce gifter this year! I went after your 1st and 3rd prompts. Cryptid vibes and Corpse AU. Enjoy! >:)

They’re waiting for him, this time.

They don’t, always. Usually, he’s faster than they are, and sometimes they can’t make it at all. A few, very harrowing times, he couldn’t make it.

But here, now, they’re waiting, each one leaning against a tree trunk. The hillside below then is dotted with charred and broken tree stumps that rise straight from the ground like monuments. The moon is high, white, and sharp, cut from the sky with a razor. Everything is cold, still, quiet.

Sam raises cupped hands to her mouth and blows through them, ignoring the dirt on her fingers and under her nails. It’s not any worse than digging in her garden. The shovels are a bit bigger, that’s all.

Tucker has taken out his PDA again. He shouldn’t. Not here. The screen is bright, and someone might see it. But he can’t help but check the time, again, squinting through the fog of his breath to see the numbers. It’s late. But that’s not going to change in a hurry.

Almost as one, they look down the hill, their attention drawn taught. Something is moving down there.

Surreptitiously, Sam puts a boot on the blade of her shovel, levering it up and into her hand. Tucker reaches out for his, fingers brushing the smooth wooden handle, not yet pulling it free of the ground.

They wait, still and cautious. No matter how many times they do this, they’re never entirely at ease.

Then two spots of green, bright and alien, flare up at them from the dark. If either of them had been carrying a flashlight, the green could have been mistaken for an animal’s eyeshine.

They weren’t. It wasn’t.

Slowly, the thing in the dark comes up the hill. It walks slowly, ponderously, its gait uneven. Every once in a while, that green flashes again.

The clear cold light of the moon provides a silhouette, eventually. A black hole in the night. A human-like figure, a body thrown over one of its shoulders, a shovel propped on the other. It is stooped, slightly, under the weight, but the way it moves could tell anyone it had done this before. Its eyes are flat, green coins.

Sam blinks once, twice, three times. Tucker just waits, still as stone. Reality shifts. No longer is the thing in front of them a shadow cut from nightmare, but their friend, Danny. Normal, human, puny, blue-eyed Danny, who, for some reason, thinks it’s acceptable to wear a t-shirt in this weather and at this time of night. He looks exhausted, and perhaps a little embarrassed. Nothing frightening here.

Other than the fact he’s carrying his own corpse over his shoulder.

“You didn’t need to bring your own shovel, man,” says Tucker, compulsively pulling his PDA out again. “We already got everything dug.” He sounds worried.

Danny cringes. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to make you wait that long.” He drums his fingers on the shaft of his shovel and adjusts his grip on the body.

“It’s fine. Let’s just get under cover.” Sam turns and walks back, into the less-burned part of the forest. She can hear Tucker following her. Danny is, as always, silent.

“Oof,” says Danny.

“Huh? Something wrong?” asks Tucker.

“Just walked over my own grave, that’s all.” Danny offers them a smile that could have been made from the same fabric as the moon – although with a far less steady hand.

The response is a groan, as loud as they dare.

“We’re going to have to change locations, soon.”

And isn’t that the truth? Accidentally digging up one grave was one grave too many, and it isn’t as if they could mark them. What they are doing is illegal, both in the ‘this is literally against state, federal, county, and municipal law’ sense, and the more metaphorical ‘this is an affront to the laws of nature’ sense.

They reach their handiwork of the night before much longer. The grave isn’t nice and rectangular, but they gave up on that early on. It’s deep, and big enough to take what Danny’s been carrying. That’s enough.

Danny promptly drops his corpse into the hole. The sound of a corpse hitting the ground like that—It isn’t exactly indescribable, and it isn’t exactly unique, but…

It sure is a sound.

They stare at it, for a long moment. It feels, even after all this time, that they should say something, do something, to commemorate the moment, to lay the body to rest.

But they don’t.

Danny hefts his shovel and starts the work of pushing the dirt back in. Shovelful by shovelful, the body is hidden from view. Covered up. Tucked in.

“Well,” says Danny. “That’s that for tonight.”

They go back, down through the trees. Sometimes, when he steps into the shadows of the trees, Danny goes dark again, his eyes green and glowing, but those moments become fewer and further between as they leave the fresh grave behind. As they leave Danny’s latest death behind. As Danny becomes more alive.

“Who was it tonight?” asks Tucker. “Or was it more of a what this time?”

“Ember,” says Danny.

“That was fast, for her.”

“She wasn’t here for a fight, this time.” Danny shrugs. “Convinced her to ride my death back across the line pretty easy. It’s almost as if—”

He stops, tilts his head to one side. Shadows strobe across him.

“Danny?” asks Sam.

“Something’s here,” says Danny, his voice flat and empty, and then he's gone.

If there is one thing that is impossible for Sam and Tucker to get used to, it is the sight of their friend dropping dead.

Sam hisses through her teeth and crouches down. “He couldn’t even tell us who it is first?”

“It can’t be anyone too strong,” says Tucker. “He wouldn’t risk wasting a death.” He thumbs open the timer on his PDA. Six minutes. On average, a human death held a viable door open for six minutes.

Sam shoots him a skeptical look and he winces. There is, on occasion, a wildness in Danny's eyes beyond the green.

But it’s too late to talk about that now. The moon-cast shadows undulate across the ground, twitching and fluttering like living things. It's ink and blackness and the trees bending away from the sky to reveal stars that were both too close and too green.

The dark isn’t the only thing there. There's something artificial, a presence the forest resists. An intruder. An outsider. A predator, stalking, hunting, not looking for them, but it doesn’t care about collateral damage.

Sam curses under her breath. “Skulker.”

The two ghosts clash and writhe, dead, unmade things in a place they should not exist. They give the body, the corpse, a wide berth, Skulker not willing to get close enough to the body and the door for Danny to push him through, and Danny clearly not wanting Skulker to get too close to Sam and Tucker.

The problem with Skulker is that he’s always been out for blood. Danny is his current prey, but that isn’t a good thing to count on.

“Do you think Vlad let him through again?” whispers Tucker, his words standing stark against the silence.

It’s probable. There aren’t enough human deaths in Amity Park to justify how often certain ghosts return. Any death can make a door, even a plant’s, even an animal’s, but those doors are usually too small and too brief for ghosts like Skulker to get through, if they aren’t called to them specifically. But someone like Vlad or Danny can die again and again, as many times as needed.

Tucker sees Danny’s body twitch and he yelps, putting a tree between him and it. Sam is more proactive. She brings the flat of her shovel down on its head. The ghosts that leak out are stripes of neon against dark grass. The light is swallowed by the empty places between the trees.

“How much time?” she asks Tucker breathlessly.

“Three minutes,” he says, holding up his PDA.

“We need to get out of here.”

“What? But—”

She grabs his wrist and hauls him into the dark.

It isn’t only black in there. Star-flashes and moonlight twinkle and strobe as they run. There are eyes, green and uncountable. There is sound – gunfire swallowed by snow, the twang of bowstrings, the last gasp of prey, devoured. The trees slide by them, studiously avoiding their path. Soft mounds of earth flicker with gentle stars, the ground beneath them a mirror of the sky above. It is like running between two mirrors.

This landscape, Sam realizes, a little late, does not favor Skulker very much at all. Not here, in Danny’s own personal graveyard.

And the shadows retreat, pulled away like ink being absorbed by a napkin.

Sam and Tucker look back, over their shoulders. Two green eyes stare at them from what isn’t, in retrospect, very far away at all. Danny’s body lies on the ground below, barely visible. The eyes do not leave them, even as the shadow they are in stoops to pluck the shovel from the limp hand of Danny’s body and start digging.

The shadows beneath the trees don’t seem very dark anymore. The moonlight is almost blinding.

The timer on Tucker’s PDA goes off, loudly. He hisses at it, annoyed that, somewhere along the way, he’d turned the volume on.

“Heck,” says Sam.

“Yeah,” agrees Tucker, vehemently. “Where’d my shovel go?”

They find it before too long. There aren’t too many places it could have gone. They join Danny in digging. Two graves in one night are really too much, but they’ve done more, and they’ve done worse. They aren’t like Vlad, can’t just let them build up until it’s efficient to dispose of them, or whatever he does. Something tells them that whatever is probably worse than they’re imagining.

Between blinks, Danny is himself again, and the grave is finished before the moon starts to set.

It is late. It is early. It is time to go home.

The thing about three teenagers with shovels walking the city streets at night is that they’re noticed. Amity Park isn’t New York, but any city worth its name stirs in its sleep. Midnight flights to the airport, inadvisably long bachelor parties, late movies, insomnia, homelessness.

Tucker’s been monitoring the ghost hunting and cryptid forums for a while, and he’s emailed Danny links to each one that mentions him. Sam has clippings from the paper about calls to animal control about something with green eyes, about something that couldn’t possibly be human. Then, of course, there are the calls to the police about something dragging or carrying bodies from all sorts of places.

There had been an investigation at one point. There had to be. But nothing had been found. There hadn’t been anything to find. No missing bodies, no mysterious disappearances, no deaths. Just a green-eyed shadow and its mysterious companions.

Sam knows her parents, at least, think the whole thing is a prank. Tucker’s think it is people seeing things when there was nothing there, like bigfoot. The less said about what Danny’s parents think about it, the better.

Sam’s house is furthest from the center of town, and they drop her off first, the shadows on the trellis giving her a boost when she climbed. Tucker and Danny then have the typical argument about whether it’s better to bring Tucker or Danny home first. Danny, Tucker argues, has just fought not one, but two ghosts. Tucker, Danny argues, cannot come back from the dead. Danny wins, as usual.

That leaves Danny, real and not, alive and not, to wander home. He waves cheerfully at a drunk who watches him pass with wide eyes and turns onto his street. He breathes in, deeply, tasting the ash that still flavors the air all these months later. He opens his eyes just in time for the winter sun to beam through the skeleton of one of the buildings that bracket the crater that was once Fentonworks.

No one lives here anymore.

No one is waiting for him.

Danny walks down into the darkness and disappears.

#danny phantom #winter truce #snops #prompt fill #corpse au #cryptid vibes

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frankenstein-ate-my-left-shoe · 11 months

Text

i'm outta my head over you Pt. 4

prologue (Pt. 1) | Pt. 2 | Pt. 3 | AO3 | playlist

icymi, i retcon-ed the last little bit of chap 3 (what steve's entry to Be My Baby said from Eddie to Teddy!)

@steddie-week prompt for today: first kiss/Kiss on My List - Hall & Oates (though the part before that got a away from me a little 😅)

-------

Staying away for a bit seemed to be the best thing to do, so Steve goes back to the hospital a couple days later, coming back in the early morning this time to try avoiding stepping on Wayne Munson’s toes.

He looks in on Max first. She’s still asleep, so he quietly sneaks around the room, straightening things up, and picking up discarded popsicle sticks and cotton balls from whatever game the party’s made up as an excuse to throw them around.

He straightens her blankets, pulling them up a bit higher to make sure she stays comfortable, and sneaks back out the open door.

Steve really wants to check in on Eddie too, but doesn’t want to incur the wrath of the older Munson if he catches wind of him being there.

“I’ll just look in, make sure he’s okay, and leave.” Steve rationalizes, mumbling to himself as he walks the familiar path from Max’s room to Eddie’s.

He hears music playing softly as he approaches, the tail end of one song and the beginning of another that is definitely not something he would’ve associated with the bold and brash metalhead currently laid up there.

Steve peeks around the doorframe and finds Wayne there already, sitting beside the tapedeck Steve had brought for them to play music for Eddie.

He’s got a pair of glasses sitting low on his nose, scowling down at a small worn book in his lap. Steve recognizes the cover immediately. It’s the copy of The Hobbit Dustin had left there.

“Damn it Ed, you couldn’t’ve had an easier favorite to read?” Wayne grumbles aloud.

Steve laughs without thinking, and Wayne’s sharp gaze snaps up to him in an instant.

“Oh shit, sorry, Mr. Munson.” he steps into the doorway a little more, pointing a thumb over his shoulder, “I’ll just…yeah.”

He’s turned to leave when Wayne’s voice stops him. “Harrington.”

Oh boy.

“Yes sir?”

“Lemme talk t’ya a second.”

Steve enters the room; the itch to immediately go to Eddie’s side is strong, but he stops himself short a few steps away from the foot of Eddie’s bed.

Glancing down at his friend, he’s shocked and delighted to find Eddie’s breathing tube is gone.

“His tu—” Steve starts, but stops himself. He’s there to hear what Wayne wants to say.

“Came out last night, actually.”

He nods gratefully at the offered information, but when Wayne doesn’t say anything, Steve starts, “Mr. Munson–”

“Wayne.” Wayne cuts him off. “I need to apologize.”

Steve blinks at him in shock.

“That loud curly-haired kid of yours really gave me a what-for this morning.”

“Dustin?” Steve whispers.

“That’s the one.” Wayne nods.

“Mr. Mun–Wayne, I’m so sorry, Dustin can be a bit much, whatever he said to you I promise was just said because he cares about Eddie so much..”

“I know that,” Wayne nods, “Really cares about you too, y’know. Nearly tore my head off for darin’ t’say somethin’ bad about your family.”

“To be fair to Dustin, my family deserves it.” Steve jokes, but immediately kicks himself for interrupting.

Wayne nods, “That they do. I’m glad you know this already.”

There’s a weighty pause while Wayne stands, Steve stays frozen waiting for Wayne to continue.

“Your kiddo told me you were the one to get Eddie out of there. Back here to the hospital.” He continues after Steve nods, “Now I realize that was you there in the next bed over when they first called me, but t’be fair, I wasn’t worried ‘bout much else but Eddie.”

“I understand.” Steve nods.

Wayne takes one long step forward to place his hand on Steve’s shoulder and Steve looks up to meet his eyes.

“M’sorry I snapped at you, son.” Steve’s stomach clenches. “Thank you fer bringin’ my boy back to me.”

“You’re we–OOF.” The rest of his response is cut off when his face is suddenly pressed into Wayne’s shoulder. The elder Munson smells like asphalt and cigarettes, the sharp smell of grease stings the back of Steve’s nose

He chooses to blame that for the tears that spill over onto the man’s jacket, and if Wayne notices the wet spot, or the tears that stain Steve’s face after releasing him, he doesn’t say anything.

They sit and talk a bit, Wayne explaining his modified visiting hours due to his work schedule was likely why they hadn’t really crossed paths until Steve accidentally stayed late (“Shouldn’t you be sleeping right now?” Steve asks him, “Probably, but this is more important.”), he tells Wayne what he’d taken to doing for Eddie while he was there in return (“I thought chapstick would be a bit too far for me,” he says as he hands Wayne the new tube of chapstick that’s been haunting the front pocket of his jeans, “but I couldn’t stand watching his wrist get rubbed raw by that damn cuff.”), then move on to Wayne’s personal mixtape he’d been playing whenever he’d visit.

“Even you know it’s not Ed’s particular brand of tunes, but this is our…default tape. Always got it playin’ when we clean the trailer, or while he’s paintin’ somethin’ in the living room while I read the paper.” Wayne shrugs, “Thought it’d bring him some comfort.”

They both fall quiet after that. It’s still relatively early in the morning, and they’ll have a few more hours before the party (sans Dustin, who was off to a previously scheduled, school-sponsored trip as of this morning, hence why he was in so early to say goodbye to Eddie and and to berate his uncle) descends, so they sit in the comforting lull of the day to the Munson Background Music. Wayne moving onto his paper, Steve picking up and attempting (once again) to get into The Hobbit.

He’s gotten through a whole five pages (Five! A new personal best!) when Wayne clears his throat, trying to grab Steve’s attention.

“Now don’t take this the wrong way son, but I gotta ask; it seems t’me you’ve got some…extra feelings for my Eddie.”

Steve freezes.

“No, no, none of that, Steve. I’m asking you both as a concerned uncle, and as a protective one.”

Steve gulps audibly. “How do you mean?”

“C’mon son, you see anyone else here for ‘im as much? Believe you me, your curly-haired number one fan really handed it to me today. You’ve been here with Eddie more than I have.”

Steve feels his face burn in embarrassment, both for Dustin’s antics on his behalf, and for the current path this conversation is taking.

“Not to be cliché, but I gotta ask, What’re your intentions with my nephew?” Wayne’s eyes crinkle heavily in tandem with his warm smile.

Because the universe hates him, the chorus of the song currently playing cuts through the brief silence between his question and Steve’s not-yet-formulated response.

“ So won’t you, please (Be my, be my baby)? My one and only baby? ” Ronnie and her Ronettes croon, much to Steve’s dismay.

Steve chuckles, half humorously, “Ronnie said it best, Mr. Munson.”

After Wayne’s good-natured laughing fit is over, he says “Best of luck t’ya, Harrington. Just know I’ve got a shotgun in my closet back home.”

“Don’t worry, if I ever hurt your nephew, Dustin will sick Nancy on me. And she’s got a few.”

They fall into conversation again after that, and Steve finds out a bit more about the man, the myth, the legend that lays unconscious in the bed between him and Wayne. Eddie’s favorite color is either black or navy blue, he loves cinnamon-sugar on toast, about half the mugs in the Munson trailer are ones he’s collected, and (possibly the most important piece of information Steve’s ever known) Eddie’s full name is Theodore Wayne Munson.

“No way, Theodore??” Steve can’t contain his grin.

“Theodore.” Wayne nods with a smirk. “His dad hated it, started calling him Eddie basically from when he was born. Rationalized it bein’ short for Theodore, like a Ted to Teddy to Eddie type thing.

“Was his mom that named ‘im that, after her dad. She died when Ed was real young, so he’s been ‘Eddie’ all his life.” Wayne shrugs.

Steve goes to say something else, but is interrupted.

“Oh good, you’re both here.” Hopper grunts, stepping into Eddie’s room.

“Hop? What are you doing here?” Steve asks.

“You here to take that damn cuff off, Chief?”

Hopper comes up to the foot of Eddie’s bed and leans onto the plastic footboard, speaking low to only the two of them. “We’ve got a plan. We’re going to officially clear him today to the public, so yes, the cuff will be off later today but…” he pauses, looking between the two of them.

“Owens figures Eddie’ll be waking up sooner than later and when he does, he’ll need a place to lay low. You both know exactly how this’ll play out with the public, so Steve, we were hoping you’d be willing to take Eddie in in the meantime. If Wayne’s alright with that.”

“You don’t want him to be easy to track down.”

“Most folks wouldn’t expect him to be staying with Steve...” Wayne says in understanding.

“Exactly.” Hopper nods, “But what about your parents?” he directs back to Steve.

“Honestly? No worries there. They haven’t been around much at all in the last year; I think they are about to cut their losses and just sign the house over to me.” he shrugs.

He ignores both Wayne and Hopper's concerned looks and continues. “What will I need to do to help him? Is he going to do physical therapy? Do his bandages need to be wrapped any different than mine?”

Dr. Owens comes in then, “We’ll know more after he wakes up, Steve, but yes, physical therapy appointments are likely in order to build back up his abdominal strength.”

“Honestly don’t think there was much there t’begin with, doc.” Wayne says, poking fun at his nephew as easy as breathing.

-----

A few more days pass, and Steve goes back to work. Having taken time to heal himself, and make sure his people were safe and sound after taking care of Vecna.

This is about when he gets the idea in his head about making a mixtape for Eddie himself. Music is such an important thing in Eddie’s life, and Steve wants to be sappy, okay? Mixtapes are a romance cliché he hasn’t delved into before and what better person to create one for?

Steve gets the call Eddie’s awake on a Wednesday. Family Video’s least busy day.

“Family Video, this is Steve, How can I help you?” He drones.

“G’morning son, y’able to get to the hospital?” Wayne sounds like he’s smiling, but his stomach turns to lead anyway.

“Wayne?”

“Eddie’s awake. He’s ask–”

Steve doesn’t let him finish. “I’m on my way!”

He slams the phone down on the receiver, yells “Gotta go, Ryan!” to his coworker in the back office and books it out the door without waiting for a response.

Breaking multiple speed limits on his way, Steve arrives at the hospital in record time. Deciding the elevator was a waste of time, he sprints up the two flights of stairs to Eddie’s room.

Wayne’s outside the door talking to Hopper when he finally skids to a stop.

“He’s awake? Did someone tell Dustin? Gotta ask Will to help, he should be able to operate their crazy radio–Cerebro!” He snaps his fingers when the name comes to him. “Or maybe El can reach out an–”

“Steve, calm down.” Hopper shushes him, “Yes, Eddie’s awake but still kinda loopy from the drugs. He’s been in and out for the last couple hours. And yes, I’ve called Claudia, she’s contacting Dustin’s camp to give him the news.”

He smiles, sagging in relief. “Can I see him?”

“Sure, go on in,” Wayne chuckles, stepping back from the door for Steve to pass.

Rushing forward to Eddie’s side, Steve sees the other man shifting; stirring as if waking up from a nap, not a coma.

“Hey Eds,” he chuckles after a particularly funny-looking stretch. “You good, man?”

“Stevie! Steviesteviestevie’s here! Wayne, Steve’s here!”

“I see that, now stop wriggling around. You’ll pull yer stitches.” Wayne calls, then goes back to his conversation with Hopper.

“Ohyeah, I’m Frankenstein now.” Eddie tells him with all the confidence in the world.

“You are, are you?”

“Yeah I got all new skin and stitches.”

“...Are you talking about your skin grafts?”

“Uh, ya. Pay ‘tention Steve-o.” Eddie attempts to poke the end of Steve’s nose, but misses completely, poking a cold finger into his eye instead.

“Ow??”

“Steve? You okay?” Eddie looks like he’s about to cry, none the wiser to the bruised eyelid he just caused.

“Yeah, yeah, hon, I’m fine. You just poked me is all. Are you okay?”

“Yeah.” Eddie breathes, sagging into the pillows under his shoulders with a sigh and a smile. “You called me ‘hon’.”

“That I did,” Steve says with a chuckle, “That okay?”

Eddie’s still smiling, closes his eyes and says, “No.” then promptly falls asleep.

“...What?”

-------

“You told Steve my full name?” Eddie accuses Wayne as soon as he steps through the door later that night (early that morning? Whatever..).

“Why’re you up?”

“Answer the question, old man!”

“Yeah, I did. Seemed pleased as punch t’have learned that lil’ bit of information.”

“I can’t believe this. He called me Teddy!” Eddie waves the scanned page in his uncle’s face.

“That’s cute.” Wayne toes off his boots and wanders into the kitchen for coffee. His bedtime staple.

“Cute?! You’re giving away my secrets!”

“You just now finding out about the Teddy thing? That was weeks ago, Eds, did he not call you that the whole time you were stayin’ there?”

“No??”

Wayne just shrugs in response.

“Wait…” Eddie scans through the one memory he tries to keep wrapped up tight, lest he agonize over it 24/7, “He did once; he was running late for work one day…”

-------

Eddie is packed up and ferried off to Steve’s a couple days later; he’s still sore, still recovering, but at least now he can be out of the hospital and he’s past the biggest threat of infection.

He’s got a schedule of PT appointments he’ll have to make; a schedule of which Steve made sure to get into Keith’s hands before Eddie came home and ensuring he’d get Steve’s work schedule swapped around to accommodate (He did, after a thorough berating by Robin).

“This’ll be fun, huh Stevie?” Eddie asks, gesturing to the re-dressing instructions for his various wounds in his hand.

“Oh yeah, loads.” he responds sarcastically at first, but gives him a smile immediately after. “I’ll make sure you’re taken care of, Eds.”

He reaches over and pats the top of Eddie’s leg, then turns back to the road, pulling away from the curb none the wiser to Eddie’s burning red face.

They ride along in comfortable silence, the radio playing the local rock station at a low volume.

“You ready for the chaos when Henderson gets back?”

Eddie scoffs, “I’m surprised he didn't manage to convince Claudia to pick him up, honestly.”

“Maybe he’s planning his escape to the bus station as we speak.” Steve laughs.

Eddie’s quiet long enough for Steve to look away from the road over at him. The sun through Eddie’s open window makes his dark brown, almost black curls glow gold at the edges; Steve finds himself wanting to kiss him more than anything.

But his face is contorted in worry, and he’s chewing on his already stubby fingernails.

“Eds? You alright?”

“Huh? Yeahyeah I’m just…panicking.”

Steve glances back to the road briefly, “About what?”

“He’s going to hate me.” Eddie blurts as soon as the ‘t’ leaves Steve’s mouth.

“No he’s not, Ed–”

“Why shouldn’t he? With what I put him through down there?”

“Hey, no, none of that.”

Eddie doesn’t respond. His fingers are going to start to bleed if he doesn’t stop.

“Eddie, look at me.” Steve grabs his hand away from his mouth, ignoring the feeling of wet fingertips as he laces their fingers together.

“Gross, man–”

“Eddie, that boy loves you so goddamn much. He may be a little passive aggressive about it for a while, but I know he’s glad you made it out of there. That you’re here with us.”

He lets himself smile at Steve’s words. “I’m only here ‘cause of you.” he says in a small voice.

“I just didn’t want Dustin to be sad.” Steve states, matter-of-factly and turns all his attention back to the road.

Eddie snorts in laughter at that, and Steve’s face pulls up into a smirk.

He’s still holding Eddie’s hand.

-----

The plan is for Eddie to lay low for a couple weeks at minimum.

Luckily for them, Hopper coming back lent credence to the claim that he was trying to help track down the Creel Murder copycat killer, being as the original killer was from Hawkins and all.

The government pulled their strings, declaring Eddie a free man and a hero for saving a young Mr. Henderson when, while being held hostage at the Creel House, he’d taken a majority of the killer’s wrath and kept Dustin safe from the crumbling rubble when the earthquake hit.

It was flimsy at best if you looked at it too hard, but luckily for them, it seemed like the people of Hawkins would much rather ignore their shortcomings when it came to the witch hunt than face them.

It only ended up taking about those two weeks for Eddie to get much stronger, and for things to blow over enough for him to go home.

But damn does Steve wish it was longer.

Not the…hiding from a mob thing, or healing from horrible wounds thing.. But the ‘having Eddie that close’ thing, the ‘comforting presence after a particularly bad nightmare’ thing.

Steve was falling harder and harder every day. Doing his damndest to make Eddie blush just a bit pinker every time his hand lingered on Eddie’s just a bit too long, every pretend need to brush his hair away from his face, and the particularly great ‘Oh, don’t worry if you can’t reach up enough to wash your hair, Eddie, I’ll help. I won’t look anywhere else, promise…unless you want me to’ he’d said (in much more eloquent terms) with a flirty wink

It was sickeningly domestic, and he wouldn’t have traded it for the world.

Even in the times they’d get frustrated with one another; Eddie sick of having to be helped with every little thing and having to deal with the constant pain, or Steve also dealing with his own wounds and having to deal with a couple of Eddie’s fits of anger at having to be helped.

Kudos to Eddie though, he really pushed through his PT, did everything right, listened to what Steve and his doctors told him, he was healing fast.

On the second to last day of Eddie staying with him (though he didn’t know it at the time), Eddie was up before him. He’d snuck easily past the open door to the living room from the hall under the stairs, and into the kitchen.

Steve woke up to the smell of eggs and toast and wandered groggily into the kitchen himself.

Eddie had stretched the toaster from its usual spot in the corner of the counter to right next to the stove and had perched himself on a stool from the island so he could cook.

“Eddie?”

“Stevie, hey!” Eddie says, turning a bit to smile at him as he enters. “I hope you don’t mind scrambled, I don’t quite have the muscle movements to flip anything yet.

Steve blinks twice. Fuck. He’s in love.

“I’ll take anything you give me, Eds.” Eddie’s face turns fully scarlet at that. “Need any help? I’ll make some cinnamon toast if you’d like?” He asks, already pulling the toaster away from the stove with one hand and reaching for the cinnamon sugar with the other.

“Y-yeah, that’d be great Sweeth–Stevie.”

Steve feels his own face go scarlet at the slip, but doesn’t call attention to it. “Cool.” he says, like an idiot.

Eddie hums as they work, some song Steve doesn’t quite recognize, and soon they have two plates of breakfast.

“Thanks Eddie, this looks great.”

“You’re welcome Steve-o, I put some cheese in there too.” His smile is perfect.

“What’ve you got planned today?”

Eddie launches into the campaign he’s been planning for the party, what he’s still got to figure out, whether or not he’s going to delay starting in order to make them all a figure of their characters, but then if he did that he’d need them all to give him their character sheets well beforehand and Mike is horrible about not making a character till the very last second..

Steve’s so entranced listening to him, he doesn’t realize what time it is until Eddie stops himself.

“Hey, don’t you have the opener today? It’s already 9:30.”

“Aw shit..”

Steve races up the stairs to his room to the tune of Eddie’s cackle, starting the shower first, then grabbing up whatever clothes he can find that’re clean.

He jumps under the warm spray and showers as fast as he possibly can, jumps back out, focuses on drying his hair as much as possible while trying to yank the denim of his jeans over the still-wet skin of his legs, pulls on a polo, shrugs on his vest, grabs up the stupid styling mousse he doesn't like to use all that often (it makes his hair sticky and he hates it, okay?) and whips his hair into shape.

Good enough.

He bolts back down the stairs, pulls on his socks, then shoes, fuck! Where are his keys??

“In here, Stevie!”

He peeks into the kitchen and Eddie’s got both arms outstretched in front of him where he’s still perched on the stool.

In one hand: his keys, in the other: a brown paper bag.

Eddie made him a lunch.

Can you fall more in love with someone that quick after doing it the first time?

“You’re a fuckin’ lifesaver,’ Steve reaches out with both his own hands, enveloping them over Eddie’s.

He pushes them wide, steps between Eddie’s legs, kisses him quickly, then, just as quickly, is gripping onto the bag and his keys, and stepping backwards toward the door.

“Take it easy today, okay Teddy? You already did a lot, so just relax. See you later!” Steve admonishes the other man teasingly and spins out the front door.

It takes hours.

Hours for Steve to realize what he did.

“Oh no…Oh fuck! ” he yells, dropping the tape in his hand and abandoning the returns cart where it stands.

He books it to the front counter and launches himself over it, knocking a whole stack of already organized tapes off it in his wake a la Dustin Henderson.

Old Ms. Wilson turns her nose up at his antics and leaves without any preamble, and he’s mercifully alone in the store.

“C’mon, c’mon, Eddie please pick up…”

“Harrington residence!”

“Eddie! Eddie, I am so so sorry! I swear, I didn't even realize what I did until just about..hm.. 20 seconds ago? It doe–” Well, better now than never. “It doesn’t have to mean anything, we can just forget it ever happened if yo–”

“Yeah, yeah, no worries Harrington,”

“Harrington?”

Eddie continues on like he didn’t hear him “I know it was just a mistake; I should be out of here soon anyway so..”

There’s something off about his voice. “Ed–”

“So just forget it ever happened, ‘kay? Ooh, bring back Star Wars when you’re off, yeah? Thanks, Steve, you’re the best.”

The dial tone sounds in his ear.

Wow.. okay, that’s…fine. He’ll just stick to being hopelessly in love on his own, then.

-------

“You mean to tell me,” Wayne’s got his eyes closed and his thumb and forefinger pinched over the bridge of his nose. “That that boy kissed you full on yer mouth. And you thought he was 100% not in love with you?”

“Well I know now that’s not true.” Eddie crosses his arms over his chest like a petulant child being scolded. “He didn’t exactly sound all that excited about it when he called me.”

“I can’t believe I’m the one t’hafta tell ya this, but from what you said, in your own retelling , was Steve called hours later, ‘cause he didn’t realize he kissed ya, said ‘I’m sorry, it doesn’t have to mean anything.’...and you pushed him away.”

“That’s what I just said Wayne! I know now ‘cause of this tape but–”

“You’re hopeless. Bless that Buckley girl, oth’wise you’d still be…what’s she call ya? A Doofus about him.”

"...shut up.."

-------

Part 5 here!

tagging: @hellomynameismoo and @messrs-weasley 'cause they both asked so nicely!

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jjwho · 11 months

Text

Who is your Next Lover

Pile 1. Pile 2

Pile 3. Pile 4

Pile1

Cards pulled out: Five of pentacles, ten of pentacles reversed, seven of wands reversed, three of swords reversed.

Okay pile oneee

Oof so what im getting is that your person might feel left out in the cold, having it ruff especially if its financially, maybe their parents are divorced because of financial issues.

This person really genuinely has it ruff, like they mightve unexpectedly lost a lot of things, like family and espically money, I'm seeing a scene of being in their parents debt and repaying their debt.

Shame man and I see them always surrender so easily and just saying yk fine I'll pay for their debts even though they should. I feel like this person is trying to stay optimistic

This person is someone who has it really ruff but still smiles yk. Hides the pain through a smile and just tries their best and stays optimistic even though the circumstances are bad. I do feel they are trying to ket go of pain and grief but shame man you should take care of them😭🥲

Physical traits:

-Might look German, Dutch or Afrikaans or raised there

-Dark skinned

-Youthful appearance

-Doe eyes

Awww so innocent. I hope that helps you pile one. Just know this is a general reading si nit everything is gonna resonate

Pile 2

Cards pulled out: Revered- King of pentacles, death, ten of swords

Upright- The High Priestess

Okay pile 2 so uh

This person might not have the best background or past, cause this person might of been very unstable with money and just an unstable person. May come off as cold and rude and greedy. Now they also have a fear of change, they don't want ti change their old habits for some reason. Or didn't want to.

Now maybe they are trying ti change that now, but it takes a really long time for a man or woman like that to change so yeah. Just live your life and don't stay with this person if they aren't gonna treat you well.

They also might come off as mysterious at first or they have a thing for mysterious people and this person really has a thing for desire like he can't control himself and just takes and tales that's what im getting.

(Sorry very toxic masculine energy that's why I called it a him.)

Physical traits:

-oop they may appear to be more feminine, but personality might be masculine

-They have nice nails

-Curvy

-Asian(Asian also means Indian people)

Okay hope that helps pile 2222

Byeee

Pile 3

Cards pulled out: five of cups,ace of pentacles,seven of cups, seven of pentacles revered

Okay pile 3 sooo

Your next lover is giving me daddy boss vibes

Like this person gots lots of money and opportunities and shit, but idk this person is always focused on the negative, this person is a workaholic doe

This person just needs to set their mind straight, like this person might have a kit of set backs or procrastinate or put their decisions on hold which they shouldnt cause.

Money.

If yk what I mean.

But that's really all that I'm getting tbh, they might a little lazy too when it comes to live, not too experienced in it and enter really been in love. To focused on work yk.

Physical Traits

-They got abs-

-Freckles

-Strong arms

-summer aesthetic

Damn they work out. Hot for uuu

Okay byeee hope that helps pile 3333

Pile 4

Cards pulled out: eight of pentacles, the devil, judgement, ten of swords reversed

Okay pile 4 so uhm damn

So you might know this person from work, might be a new worker, they work really hard and might attract a lot of the higher ups. They're confident in there work too, now they might be a bit of a sexual person who's a bit obsessive and yk very sexual and naughty ooop. Yeah yeah. Like a dark but attractive aura. Pure and cool at work but sexy and whatever around outside yk yk.

Some who likes fairness though. Very strong taste in justice. And someone who stands up for themselves and other yk yk.

Sexy, hardworking, good morals, sexy again.

That's all that I'm getting tbh

Physical Traits:

-Doe eyes

-Light skinned

-Brown eyes

-they might not smell the best tho-

Hope that helps byeee

#free tarot #tarot community #pick a pile #astrology #intuitive readings #pick a pile reading #pick an image #psychic readings #tarot deck #free readings

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mpregstory · 1 year

Text

TRAM

Student life is hard. I would not have thought that at the age of 25 I would not have started a permanent apprenticeship. It's 3 p.m. and I still got my tram. It's totally full and I only got a side seat next to a guy. He must be around 30 years old. Next to his jogging pants and his sweater, both of which are black, I notice his large stomach which causes his right leg to press against mine. He looks stressed and I keep hearing him moan. It's not loud, but noticeable. We drive a few minutes and after he takes a deep breath I whisper to him: „Hey man, are you alright?“ he recognize me and says: „Yes, I'm actually fine. Just some strong baby kicks and a full bladder, damn.“ His leg presses against mine again. I take off my headphones and look at him. "Must be far, right? How long do you have to drive?” He turns his head to me and I look into his ocean blue eyes. "About 30 minutes left, I just have the feeling I can't last that long. It's all so stressful." He seems really stressed. Should I let him go with me for a moment? I live right around the corner. „Hey boy, maybe you can use my toilet? My place is next stop. Then it's just a few minutes to my apartment. Wouldn't really be a thing.“ I smile a bit. "Oof I don't know. Only if you really don't mind. I'm a little embarrassed, haha" When he laughs, his whole stomach shakes with him. I lean towards him and whisper: "I don't mind." Then I get up and ask "Shall I help you to stand up?" He declines with thanks and slowly stand up after me and I see big baby bump again. It’s enormous.

My pace adapts to the man and I ask politely: "Hey, what's your name?" The sunlight gives his curly brown hair a red tinge. "I'm Phillip. What about you?" I have to smile again. "Hey Phillip, I'm Max, like Maximilian, but Max is fine, nice to meet you. Don't worry, there are only a few steps left." He groans once more. "You have no idea how grateful I am that you let me use your toilet. You really are an angel!” We cross the street and enter my place. He takes longer to climb the stairs to the second floor but I wait for him. „This is my front door. I actually live in a shared apartment, but my roommate is on vacation. I'll tell you after you're done where you can and can't go haha. Um...your-...your water won't break, right? The parquet floor was really expensive, haha” He has to laugh a little. "I don't think. It's embarrassing enough that I'm here, Max" he smiles and enters the bathroom. I take a seat at my table and drift into thoughts and for some reason my thoughts find themselves in Phillip's eyes. Those ocean eyes. He's already a cutie. Under other circumstances maybe even crush potential. But I don't know if I would be ready to have a child at my current age. But his face is very attractive- "-Max?" My thoughts fall apart and I'm back to reality. "I'm here, oh man, sorry I was on my mind. How are you?” Phillip comes to me: “Much better, thanks again. It's so warm to be honest.” I look at his sweater. "No wonder, also black." I get up and get drinks from the fridge. "Do you have a problem with me taking off my sweater for a moment?"I shake my head briefly and reach for the soda, then turn back to Phillip who is just pulling his sweater over his head. I see a large tattoo below his navel, a pierced nipple and Calvin Klein underpants, as well as his bulge which is accentuated a little by taking off his clothes. "Nice Tattoo, oh there are more…"

"Yeah haha, I'm glad my stomach didn't stretched them that much. You know, it wasn't all planned." I let Phillip sit down next to me and he grabs the soda as I said. "I know the question is weird, but how old are you?"I try to keep eye contact because I'm just fascinated by the color of his eyes. "Actually 32, what about you?" He takes a sip and looks at me expectantly. "Um...I'm 25, studying. What do you do for a living?” I delve into that face again. "Well, currently on parental leave, but otherwise I'm a graphic designer. I've only been feeling uncomfortable at work lately due to my back pain when sitting at the computer all day. I'm glad to have some free time now. Oh, did you still want to learn today or something? I don't want to disturb, you know-" I immediately interrupt: "What?, no, haha, you're not disturbing me and you can stay longer if you want. A little company and such. In addition, I always find it great to meet new people who are hot, uh, likeable, yes yes" he laughs and then leans slightly towards me while looking straight in the my eyes and says, "So hot? So that's what it looks like. Cute.”

It was really unbelievable how well we both could have conversations and small talk quickly turned into hours of conversation. In addition, sparks jumped between us, which was even more incredible. What an afternoon.

It's already getting dark and it's just like jumping back into reality and I realize that I can't and don't want to let Phillip go outside alone anymore. I get up and grab the toast. "Hey, do you want some toast? Then I'll do several.” I can hear a slight mumbling behind me and turn to Phillip who, with his eyes closed, is pressing his right hand to his stomach. "Everything okay?" His chin presses against his chest but he slowly answers "Yeah, just braxton hicks again like this afternoon on the train. Yes, I'll take two of the toasts too." I let Phillip breathe and take care of the food. "Well I only find it responsible if you sleep here tonight. I don't want to send you home now. You are so alone and fragile. Would that be okay?” Phillip seems to regain his composure and looks me straight in the eyes. "Okay, if that's okay with you? I'll take the couch back there-" I interrupt Phillip directly, "No no no you get my bed I can sleep on the couch. No arguments.” Phillip laughs a little and even gives me a reassuring smile as I put our toasts on the table.

I got both sleeping places ready and did the rest of the household chores and then somehow ended up with Phillip, both of us in our underpants, brushing our teeth in the bathroom. It was a difficult situation. From time to time his stomach touched mine and of course I biological reacted and I had to constantly watch not to get hard. Despite everything, there was also a lot to laugh about.

I wash my mouth and put my toothbrush back in my mug as Phillip's gaze captures me again. It's an intense moment and we get unusually close. He's a little taller than me but leans in and kisses me. I can not move. I just feel his soft lips on mine and my arms automatically go to his neck. It's weird, but I want it. I'll let it. Eventually our lips part and I escort Phillip to my room. "If anything, I'll be right next door, yes? Make yourself comfortable and with that I think I'll say good-" Phillip grabs me and throws me onto the bed. I'm startled and lie on the bed with my legs apart. I then assume that I will not sleep on the couch and at the latest when Phillip starts to mount me and we both get hard, I knew exactly where this is going...

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Want to read more? Click here to read all of my stuff :)

#mpreg #malepregnancy #pregnancy #fiction #birth #giving birth #givingbirth #labor #labor pain #contractions

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youwouldntlietopapa · 6 months

Note

"I'm not jealous, you are jealous."

With Primo

This is anon and it’s definitely not Beth ❤️

I love you and I like you thank you bye

Oof, okay, this one got more feelsy that I was aiming for. Sorry not sorry.

_________________________________________________________

“Buongiorno, sorella.” Primo’s greeting sounds unusually formal and a bit flat when you walk into the greenhouse. Not his usual warm welcome or his smile. In fact, he hasn’t looked up from his work table where he was fussing over one of his plants.

“… Good morning, Papa.” You respond, sounding more like you’re asking a question than offering a hello. “It’s nearly tea time.”

It’s become a habit over the last few weeks. Tea with Primo in the greenhouse at 10:30. Late enough in the morning that he’s ready for a break and early enough to give you some time to spend together before lunch. It’s… something. Neither of you have been willing to name it or put rules to it. It simply is what it is and you’re content knowing that you’re both comfortable and happy with your arrangement, without worrying too much about the rest. Sharing his bed (or work bench, or chair, or whatever else is at hand) when the mood strikes, and enjoying his company just as much.

You walk over, setting the tea tray down on the bench next to where he’s working. Primo still doesn’t look, shifting his weight subtly to make any attempt at a kiss on the cheek awkward if not impossible. It’s not like him to behave that way and definitely not like him to not even offer a thank you for bringing pastries from the kitchens.

“Not today, I think.” He says bluntly. “I am very busy.”

You blink at him for a long moment. “Replanting that hosta? Primo, if you’re going to lie to me, could you at least make it less insultingly transparent?”

He huffs. “I did not think you would come today. I have things to do.”

“Why wouldn’t I come today, of all days?” That’s all the patience you have for talking to his back and you walk around him to actually see his face. “If I did something, I wish you would tell me.”

“You did nothing. I just assume you would be with Cardinal Doyle this morning. Too busy for tea out here.” He says Doyle’s name like a curse, his mouth twisting sourly.

It takes a moment for the meaning to sink in, like an unexpected slap in the face. You had been talking to the Cardinal or, more like, he was talking to you. The other Sisters had already warned you about that man and his wandering hands. He was a menace and a pest, and also had seniority. It was very hard not to talk to him once he got it in his head to talk to you.

“What on Earth are you talking about, Primo? Do you mean at breakfast?”

“In the hall, si. You seemed very interested in what he had to say. I hear him telling you to come to his office later.” He finally looks at you, trying to keep his face neutral but his pale eye glows in the muted light of the greenhouse. “You are not obligated here, Sorella. If you wish to meet with the Cardinal, I am capable of entertaining myself.”

“Are you being serious right now?” You stare at him, stunned. “Where is this coming from all of a sudden?”

“Are you forgetting who you are talking to?” In all the time you’ve known him, you’ve never heard Primo play the I am Papa card. Definitely not with you. He’s told you more times than you care to count that he’s too old for juvenile dick measuring contests. I always win those anyway, he winks every time.

But not today, apparently.

“I thought I knew. But I’m starting to wonder.” You pause and look at him, pieces clicking together. “Are you… Are you jealous???”

Primo scoffs and dusts the dirt off his hands, marching across the greenhouse to look for a larger pot. “Now you are just being ridiculous!”

“Me!? You’re the one who’s all bent out of shape because I was talking to Cardinal Doyle – who approached me by the way! He’s my superior, what was I meant to do? Walk away? I’m so sorry, Cardinal, Papa Primo will be absolutely miserable if I talk to anyone else! A rule I was supposed to just intuit, as it happens. I know, very odd, but you must know that I can read Papa’s mind and know exactly what he wants without him ever actually telling me!”

That certainly got his attention. Primo turned back, pulling himself up tall. It was easy to forget how imposing he could be. Easy to forget that Papa Secondo was his little brother. His little brother who still wouldn’t cross the eldest Emeritus. But you are quickly reminded, fighting the urge to try and shrink down, to back away.

“You may speak to whomever you wish, Sorella. You do not belong to me, clearly. If it is Doyle you want, you have my blessing. May the Old One bring you both nothing but happiness.” His tone was icy cold.

“You are jealous!” Is all you can think to retort. Maybe not your finest comeback and definitely not ideal timing, but no one ever said you were good at keeping your mouth shut.

“I am not jealous. You are jealous!” Primo snaps.

This time you do stand there, looking like he slapped you. Part of you wants to laugh at the absurdity and part wants to scream. Not able to make a decision, what finally comes out of your mouth is simply, “Who in all the depths of hell is it I’m jealous of, exactly?”

“I see you yesterday, and several days before that, Sorella. Don’t think I am so old and feeble I don’t notice. The way you glare daggers at Sorella Abigail when she comes to talk with me.” There mockery in his tone meant to get under your skin and it works all too well.

“Abigail???” You are very aware of how loud you’ve both gotten and the greenhouse walls aren’t thick. But to hell with it. “You think I’m jealous of Abigail???”

“Si, Sorella.” He fires back snidely. “You deny it?”

“Satanas, I think I had better just go get your brothers because I think they may need to take you to the doctor for whatever head injury you’ve apparently suffered. Jealous of Abigail. Lucifer be merciful. Of all the absurd things you could have said. The last person I will ever be jealous of is that catty, manipulative, power hungry little social climber. You can talk to her whenever you want, Papa, I just thought she was making a damned fool of herself, aiming to be rejected by the third Papa this month!”

“And you were, what? Going to Doyle’s office just for a nice chat? Hmm? Everyone here knows who he is. What he does. Don’t tell me you don’t know. I see right through you. You want to fuck that stronzo, you go ahead. And when you are sorry and disappointed, don’t come back here crying to me. I try to warn you.” He slams the bigger pot for the hosta down on the bench so hard it cracks.

“I don’t want to fuck Doyle!” You shout back at him. The shadow of a ghoul on the greenhouse wall freezes, pressing a little closer to listen. You know that silhouette. “SWISS, FUCK OFF!”

The shadow skitters away, leaving you to your shouting match.

“I was only talking to him because his fucking sister is a florist and she knows people who deal in rare flowers, you absolute dickhead! All I wanted was her number so I could surprise you because it’s your birthday next month! But I suppose I won’t need to worry about that now, will I? I don’t need to ask you what this is or if you want more. I don’t need to tell you how I feel. You’re the brilliant Papa who’s already got it all figured out. It’s Doyle I want, right? Just my type. Creepy scumbag who keeps trying to feel me up. Not the man I actually spend all my free time with. Not the man I actually get excited to see.” Your anger and your hurt collide and your voice cracks. All the energy you’d had for yelling vanishing at once.

“Not the man I actually love.” Your eyes drop to the floor because it hurts to look at him, and all you can manage is a tired sigh. “I’m so sorry I bothered you, Papa. Please forgive me. I won’t keep you from your work any longer.”

His hand catches your elbow before you can reach the door and when you look back at him, there’s something panicked and uncertain in his eyes. A hope he’s afraid to give voice to, half certain it will crumble to dust if he tries.

“You don’t mean that.” It’s not angry or even accusing. Just disbelief.

The tears on your cheeks burn like acid. Traitors, every one of them. “You’re going to call me a liar now too?”

“Tesoro…”

“Don’t snip at me about treating you like you’re old and feeble and then tell me you didn’t know, Primo.” You hang your head and give in to the exhaustion. “I love you. Of course I love you. I spend every morning waiting to come out here just to see you. To be with you. To be close to you. You had to know.”

“Why didn’t you say?” His hand slips from your elbow to your hand.

“Say what, Primo? That it wasn’t enough? Because it was. It was enough to just… to just have you to myself for a little while. A few minutes. An hour. Whatever I got. I could make it enough because it was better than nothing. And if… if I said it and it was wrong… it would vanish. I couldn’t… I couldn’t risk that.”

His warm arms envelope you, wrapping you in the smell of fresh turned earth and a dozen different herbs you can’t hope to name all of. The sound of his heartbeat, faster than its usual steady rhythm. His hand rubbing your back, soothing and calm.

“Mi dispiace.” That voice, that’s the one you know. Primo’s voice. “Mi dispiace, angelo mio. Forgive me. I don’t have an excuse. I am a fool. A fool who doesn’t deserve you.”

His finger hooks under your chin and lifts it to look you in the eye. Gently drying your tears, cupping your cheek. “I thought…” He sighs, shaking his head at himself. “I see the way he hangs around you. Like a fly, always buzzing. But you smile, you laugh and I think… Satan knows what I think. Stupid, ridiculous, petty things. Because he is still young, he is flashy and confident… And I am…”

“Perfect.” You finish for him. “You are perfect.”

Primo presses his forehead to yours and closes his eyes. “Far from perfect. But for you, fiore mio, I will keep trying to be.” His lips brush against yours softly. “Anch'io ti amo… from the start. The very beginning. No matter how many times I tell myself you don’t need an old man holding you back. I can’t help it. I don’t want to. Ti amo. Ti amo tanto. Ti amo così tanto che non riesco a pensare lucidamente.”

When you stretch up to kiss him again, it’s no light brushing of lips. Your hands catch the back of his neck and you kiss him deeply, passionately, the way you’ve held back from anywhere but bed. Worried it would overstep some line. Break some unwritten rule. But he leans into the kiss, meeting you with equal desire and need. His arms crushing you to himself.

When you finally break away and look back at him, it’s like seeing a new man. “Does that mean we can still have tea?”

“No.” He says firmly. Letting you go and taking your hand, he starts walking quickly toward the far end of the greenhouse, hidden by a thick layer of foliage, to the private room you two have made use of before.

“No. Today, amore, I still have apologies to make and lost time to make up for.”

________________________________________________________

Anch'io ti amo = I love you too

Ti amo. Ti amo tanto. Ti amo così tanto che non riesco a pensare lucidamente. = I love you. I love you so much. I love you so much I can't think straight.

#ask prompts #ghost fanfic #Primo x reader #MDNI

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