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#why he look like the littlest tiny babie
talaok · 1 year
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A little favor
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Pairing: Joel Miller x fem! reader
summary: You fucked up a trade and want to make it up to Joel
warnings: smut | dub-con, oral sex (m receiving), unprotected p in v sex, virginity loss, daddy kink, a touch of dacryphilia, dumbification, and a bit self insert
"I'm sorry" you sobbed "I'm so sorry Joel, I swear I didn't see them and when I did it was too late and- and I'm sorry I didn't run in sooner" you were out of breath "I'm so sorry"
Your face was drenched with your own tears, even the sleeves of your shirt were in similar shape.
You had fucked up
Once again, one might add, but that's not the point.
You were supposed to keep guard as he traded some things, you didn't really know what, he never told you what, or anything really.
He just brought you with him and stuck you outside to look out for FEDRA people.
That's how it had been for the past month,
And this time,
it went wrong.
The FEDRA people had in fact come, and you hadn't noticed them until they were practically in front of you.
It was a miracle you had gotten out of there alive
as for the other guy, the guy Joel was trading with... well, he hadn't been so lucky.
And so now here you were, sobbing on his - your- bed, because you had made a mess again, and he had to clean it up.
"I'm sorry"
God, did you never get tired of saying that?
"y/n" his deep voice interrupted your sobs
You looked up at him, or at what you could make out of him from the glassy fog your eyes had become.
"It's fine sweetheart" he raised your chin, settling in front of you.
Another tear escaped your eyes, and you sniffled
"but-" you bit your trembling lip "I was stupid- I was- I was inattentive"
"you should be mad" your voice cracked
But you knew he never did, get mad, and if he did, he certainly didn't let you see it.
You had no idea why, or how, all the men in your life before him (which were just two, your father and your ex-boyfriend) would get mad at the littlest thing, from you spilling some water on the precious - worthless-coffee table to you not understanding something as quickly as they wanted you to.
You weren't the smartest of the bunch, never were.
"at least she's pretty"
that's what everyone always said,
at least she's pretty,
at least she's not gonna realize you're insulting her even when you do it right in front of her, she's not gonna be an engineer but at least she's gonna find a man to take care of her.
"men don't like it when women are smarter than them anyway"
Every single phrase, every word was engraved in your brain,
in your tiny little brain, a mantra you repeated over and over, until inevitably, it became the truth.
It still amazed you how diffrent he was though,
You expected it, at this point, to be called stupid and worthless for the tinies mistake, but he had never as much as raised his voice.
He had never called you names,
he had never laughed at you, or made fun of you, or treated you like you were used to, like you were supposed to.
"I'm not mad"
"why?"
"it was a mistake" he shrugged "it happens"
"it happens a lot to me tough"
"well that's fine" his voice was warm "everyone's diffrent"
You still couldn't wrap your head around it "why are you so nice to me?"
He smiled "I like you"
"b-but I'm-" you avoided his glare "I'm-" you didn't even know how to say it,
how to describe how useless you actually were
"Baby it's fine" his thumb stoaked your cheek.
"what about the cargo?" you asked, raising your head again
"We lost it"
"I'm so sorry" another sob "it's my fault"
The room fell silent
"Can I do anything?"
You saw something happen behind his eyes
"really" you urged " Is there anything I can do to make up for it?"
"I can look for other contraband" you suggested even though both of you knew you had no absolute idea where to look for it "I can-" you were already out of ideas "I can cook dinner"
God that was stupid
He smiled and you wanted nothing more than to be invisible.
"Please tell me what I can do" other tears fled your eyes
"Please daddy"
Shit
You instinctively covered your mouth
You didn't mean to, it had just come out.
You were scared to look up at him, to see the amused grin he would have on his face as he made fun of you in his mind,
but as you wiped the tears off your face, glancing up at him, the only thing you did see, were his eyes darker than you'd ever seen them before.
"I'm sorry" you whispered "I didn't mean to-"
"don't apologize"
"b-but-"
"There is something you could do" his thumb was tracing your jawline as your eyes sparked with excitement
"Really?"
His lips twitched into a grin
"What?"
"well" he was looking at you differently than before "you could do me a little favor"
"anything" you immediately answered, making him chuckle.
"it's more of a personal one" he explained, moving some hair out of your face "more... physical"
You frowned, confused, and he took one of your hands to slowly place it on his crotch.
Oh
"I've never- I've never done that before"
"I can teach you"
You looked up at him, your big eyes hiding under your lashes.
You really wanted to make up for your mistake.
"ok" you murmured
"good girl" he said, as a strange heat pooled between your legs "undo my belt" he ordered, and you looked at him hesitantly before obliging, your nervous fingers fumbling with the buckle for a moment before you were able to undo it.
You looked up at him for approval and he only nodded, urging you to keep going.
So you did, you undid his zipper and slowly pulled his pants down.
Something hard was straining against his boxers, you could see the tent that had formed.
"Don't be scared sweetheart" he reassured you, and you gulped as you timidly pulled his underwear down.
Oh wow
It was big,
not that you had any means of comparison but it definitely looked big.
He must have noticed your eyes widening because he said "don't worry baby, I'll go slow"
You nodded, hesitantly taking it in your hands
"w-what do I do?" you asked, looking up at him, and you felt his member twitch in your palms.
"oh baby you're so precious" he groaned, and you genuinely didn't know if it was a compliment or not.
"you just have to open your mouth,"
You did it
"just like that baby, perfect" he praised
"and put it in"
You looked at his threatening dick and then at him, fear clear in your iris.
How was all that gonna fit?
"It's gonna fit" he read your mind "don't you trust me?"
You did.
You trusted him more than anyone.
And so you did it, you widened your mouth even more, and took him in, looking at him questioningly once your lips were wrapped on not even half of his shaft.
He groaned nonetheless "that's good baby, you can move now"
You did, you started experimentally bobbing your head up and down, and according to his heavy breathing, you seemed to be doing a fairly good job.
"hollow your cheeks for me baby"
You obeyed and were rewarded with a loud groan
You looked up at him, your eyes evidently asking -is this good?-
“That’s good” he breathed, his hand going to the back of your head “that’s good baby, keep going”
The room filled with a lewd noise as your lips and chin soaked with saliva.
You forced yourself to take more of him in, but your jaw was begging you to stop.
You tried to lean away but his hand didn’t let you.
“Go deeper baby”
You peeked at him worryingly
“You can do it, sweetheart”
“Don’t you wanna make it up to daddy?”
You hummed in agreement around his cock,
of course you did.
"then be good and choke on it"
you could feel your heart beating in your ears, but you ignored it as you did what he said, taking all of him in, until his tip hit the back of your throat, making you gag softly.
A tear fled your eye, but this time it wasn't because of an emotion, it wasn't fear or patheticness, no, it was just reflexes, and for once, you liked it.
"that's it" he breathed "that's my good girl" he said, and you found yourself involuntarily rubbing your thighs together, desperate for some friction.
"fuck- that's it baby" he hissed as you kept moving your head, careful of every movement "that's it- keep going"
" 'knew you could take all of me baby" his fingers grazed your chin, as his eyes somehow darkened some more "do you think you could take daddy inside of you?"
His hand left your head and you leaned away
"inside?"
wasn't this already inside?
He seemed pretty inside to you.
"yes baby inside"
he leaned down to get closer to your face.
His fingers found your bare thighs, and danced until they were at the hem of your skirt
"do you think you could take me in your pretty pussy?" he explained better, and your mouth gaped open in surprise,
the real surprise was that your jaw was still able to do that after all that work.
"but-"
"be a good girl for daddy" you felt his digits get under your skirt as he breathed against your mouth "it's just a small favor"
"I've never-"
"I know baby" he pushed you onto the bed "But don't worry, I'll take care of everything" he promised, crawling on top of you "I'll take care of you"
he kissed your neck, a whimper fleeing your mouth "I'll make you feel really good" his quick hands freed you of your shirt and bra before you could even register it, and just after a few moments there went also your skirt and panties.
He hissed as he took you in.
"You've got such a pretty body sweetheart," he said as he kissed it all over "wish I could just stare at it all day" it tickled when he kissed your belly "touch it all day" he murmured against your skin "fuck it all day"
You whimpered as his mouth got inches from when you needed it the most, but he leaned away, taking off his own shirt and stepping out of his pants.
"so pretty" he mumbled as he used your legs to bring you closer to the edge of the bed.
He spit onto your cunt and you hissed, the cold sensation taking you by surprise.
His finger slipped between your folds, coating his digits with your liquids.
He groaned "such a pretty pussy baby"
"here" he drew his finger towards your mouth "taste yourself"
You could feel your cheeks color, but you did it nonetheless, tasting yourself around his finger.
He grinned at the sight "good girl" he hissed as he retracted his finger, and used the hand instead to position his dick at your entrance.
"stay still baby" he grabbed your hip, and you froze.
You could feel his tip graze at your entrance and it both excited you and terrified you.
You shut your eyes, biting your lip, bracing yourself for the inevitable pain.
"no look at me baby" he urged "keep those pretty eyes on me when I'm inside you"
"o-ok" you whispered, and he smiled
"god you're such a good girl" he said, as finally, he pushed himself in, or better, his tip in, and as you felt like a volcano had just erupted inside your body, you winced loudly in pain.
"I know baby" he cooed
no, you don't
You felt a tear travel from the corner of your eyes down to your temple.
He kept going, making you gasp in pain again, your hand gripping the sheets.
"It's-It's too big daddy" you cried out
"no it's not" he didn't give your pleads importance as he kept going, slowly but surely "You can do it, baby"
"I- I can't"
"yes you can" he stated "be a good girl and take it all for daddy"
"b-but it hurts" another tear
"it's gonna feel better after" he promised "trust me"
"daddy" your voice cracked as a sob came through
"come on sweetheart you almost did it"
" 's too much" you cried
"sh- sh- sh" he shushed you wiping some tears off your face " do it for me baby " he said, "you said you wanted to make it up to me"
"I-I do"
"then do" he cocked an eyebrow, and you nodded, sniffling.
"good girl" he praised, as he took your waist and with one harsh move, thrust fully into you.
"see" he admired his cock so deep inside of you "knew you could do it" he smiled at you before retracting his hips, briefly noticing the blood on his dick, and then slamming it back in.
"oh my god" you moaned
"fuck" he grunted " got such a tight pussy baby," he said, developing a rhythm as weak shocks of pain mixed with overwhelming ones of pleasure.
"knew it would be good" he kept talking through labored breaths "just like you sweetheart" he grabbed your hips more harshly as he slammed into you mercilessly now "always so obedient" he purred " so good for me"
"knew you'd take me well"
"knew you'd have such a perfect little pussy"
He bent down and to your surprise, he kissed you, messily and sloppily, but heavenly nonetheless.
"daddy" you whimpered, your back arching against the bed
"It's like it was made for me" he grunted " just designed to have only me in it" he hissed "to be mine"
"is it mine baby?"
"y-yes" you nodded, all the pleasure fogging your brain "it's yours, daddy- all yours"
He kissed you again "and what about you?" he asked, his hips still working like it was his life-long duty to slip you in fucking half "are you mine, sweetheart?"
"yes" you whined
"You're my good girl?" his hand found your clit and you gasped, a breath getting stuck in your throat "you'll do anything I want you to?" he asked, "when I want you to do it?"
"yes daddy-yes"
"that's my girl" he smirked, as you felt a weird pressure form in your stomach.
"so if I tell you that I wanna come inside you're gonna let me right?" he asked breathlessly "because you're my good little girl and I can do anything I want with you?"
"mh-mh" you nodded mindlessly
"that's right baby," he said "I can feel you're coming"
"your pretty walls are squeezing me"
"do you wanna come?"
"yes!" you moaned "yes please daddy "
He crashed his lips with yours "then come all around me sweetheart"
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sinsandsweetness · 10 months
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BIRTHDAY BOY
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(Rick & Daryl x fem!reader)
warnings- 18+ content. minors do not interact please n' thank u, smut, double penetration, FMM threesome, oral sex, fingering, anal, cream pies... i think that's it. (no Rick x Daryl, just them sharing you) 2k word count.
notes- inspired by @gxtitobxby 's 'Rickyl bday sex' blurb. enjoy!
You sat at the end of the dinner table, listening to the sound of silverware scraping on the porcelain plates. Your bare feet underneath, sneaking over to the boots of both men sitting across you. Earning a tiny smile that pulled at Rick's lips, and a quick glance from Daryl. 
"Is it ok? I didn’t know if you liked vanilla or chocolate so I was worried it was maybe too bland-" you put your fork down. The taste of the vanilla buttercream and strawberries still coating your tastebuds. 
"It’s really good, baby. Nice and sweet." Rick got up and grabbed the empty plates, brushing you on his way to the kitchen. "Just like you." He leaned down to plant a sweet kiss on the top of your head. You beamed at Daryl, awaiting his own response. Considering that the cake was for his birthday. 
" 's good," he said, shovelling the last bite in his mouth. Eyes shifting back up as your feet climbed higher, toes tickling at the denim. Trying to tease him, make him smile… get any reaction really. Your smile dropped at his continued lack of interest. 
From the kitchen, Rick called you over. You grabbed Daryl’s empty plate and maintained eye contact as you dipped your pinky in the icing left on the plate, sucking it clean as you walked over to Rick. 
"He’s just tired, baby. Why don’t you go get your pjs on n’ we’ll watch a movie or somethin'." Rick told you with a gentle hand on your elbow. Just as aware of the unimpressed energy coming from the man at the table. 
They had just gotten back from a pretty long run the night before. And apparently things didn’t go quite as planned. They ran into another group and were out two days longer than intended. You didn’t ask for details, but the blood on their clothes was enough to assume the worst. 
You could hear them talking in the kitchen as you climbed up the plush carpet stairs, not making out any real words, just the gravelly sound of their voices. 
In the bedroom, you stood in front of the mirror, a little disappointed to be changing out of the pretty sundress you put on. You knew that Daryl really liked it. That was the whole reason you’d picked it out. You spent all morning getting ready, curling your hair and securing half of it up with a silky pink ribbon. You got yourself all dolled up for him.
Just as you were rooting around the drawer of Rick and Daryl’s old tee shirts, kindly donated to you for sleep and loungewear, you heard the door creak open and through the mirror you could see Daryl. He came up behind you, put his hands on your waist and nestled his face into the crook of your neck. He breathed in and left a couple sweet little kisses. 
"I really did like the cake," he started, turning you around to look at him, your butt pressed up against the dresser. "Did you pick those strawberries yourself?" He asked. 
You nodded with a smile, bringing your hands up to the back of his neck. "I practically had to fight Carol off for em'."You admitted. 
Amusement flashed through his face. You figured Rick must have told him to quit being so moody. To give you even the littlest bit of praise for your hard work. With the lunchtime birthday party earlier in the day, and the cake you baked from scratch. You hesitantly pressed your mouth against his. 
"I liked the present too." He mumbled against your lips. His hands trailed up your dress, clearly recognizing it from the last time you wore it. You’d gotten him a switchblade. His other one broke and you happened to find one really similar at Hilltop. You’d traded a whole basket of food for it. 
"There is one more present you know…" You told him, hands slowly making their way to his belt. His tongue darting out to lick his lips as you unbuckled him. Sinking down to your knees in front of him, and kissing his hard on through his boxers. The contact making his cock twitch. 
"Can I give you my other present now?" You asked innocently, looking up at him through long lashes. Painted fingernails tickling at the waist band as his hands went right to your hair. 
"Go right ahead, princess," his head tipped back to the ceiling as you pulled down his boxers and eagerly licked all the way up his shaft, getting him all wet with your spit. When he’d had enough of your teasing, he put pressure on your head and forced you to take all of him. Not that you minded. A groan left both of you at the same time when the tip of his cock hit the back of your throat. You bobbed your head up and down to whatever pace he wanted, controlling you with the grip on your scalp. Messing up your ribbon in the process.  
You could hear Rick enter the room, though you didn’t stop looking up at Daryl. Focusing solely on the man in front of you. The one who had never even gotten a real birthday. And when he’d told you that months ago, you decided to do everything you possibly could, to make up for it. 
The springs in the mattress squeaked, and you figured Rick was making himself comfortable. Lying back to watch the show. Daryl glanced over at him, already breathing heavy above you. 
They shared a look that could only mean one thing, and before you knew it you were being pulled up by your hair and shoved towards the bed, stumbling forward and hitting the mattress with your knees. Looking back at Daryl who gave you a little nod. And then down at Rick, with his one leg bent and splayed open, and his own hand palming at his hard on. 
"You think I can share your present, baby? Would that be ok with you?" Daryl asked from behind you, tugging up your dress and pressing himself against your lacy panties. Hands rubbing up and down your sides.
"Anything for the birthday boy. Ain't that right, sweetie?" Rick interrupted, answering for you. As if it wasn’t in his own best interest that he shared. 
"Uhuh. Anything," you agreed and turned your head to catch Daryl’s lips, but he only kissed you for a second. 
"Good. Now let’s get these panties off." He pushed you onto the bed and your eyes got wide at his demand. Rick smiled at your reaction. You did as you were told, and got on all fours in front of him, all while stripping your panties down to your knees. 
Rick brought his hand up to your face, thumb pressing against your bottom lip. A glint in his eyes as you sucked on his thumb, dragging your teeth on the calloused pad. 
Behind you, Daryl snagged the delicate lace around your knees and ripped them all the way off, hands coming up to knead at your ass. A sharp smack filling the air before you even registered the stinging skin. 
"Ow," you whined out loud at the third smack. Earning a little scowl from the man in front of you. 
"It’s his day, sweetheart. Gotta give him whatever he wants." 
You nodded in agreement and started at Rick's pants. Daryl toying with your entrance from behind. Dipping down and licking a stripe up your slit from behind. Then moving to bite hard marks into your ass cheeks. You were trying not to groan too much at the pain. Rick was right. You weren’t allowed to complain. This wasn’t about you, it was about Daryl. 
"How do you want her?" Rick asked him, over your shoulder. Daryl thought for a moment before deciding on what he wanted. Gently flipping you over so you were essentially sitting in Rick's lap. Rick held your hips up so that his thick cock pressed right between your cheeks. 
Daryl grabbed your knees and spread them, situating himself right in front of you, his own cock rubbing against your clit. The whole situation made your pussy throb. You loved being sandwiched between them. It was your absolute fucking favourite. And you knew for a fact, they felt the same way. 
"You gonna let us fill you up, baby?" Daryl asked, squeezing your breast over your dress. Rick pulling you down and grinding your ass down onto him. 
"Anything you want." You mutter, reminding him of your present. Resting your head back on Rick's shoulder, to allow Daryl better access to your chest and neck. He pulled at the string of your dress untying it and exposing your breasts. He dipped down to nip at your skin. Finally pulling the dress over your head to allow him access at whatever he wanted. When his teeth caught on your nipple, you let out a little cry. Rick's lips brushed your ear while he told you how good of a girl you were being, giving Daryl exactly what he wants. That you are all he wants. All they want. And most importantly, that you’re all theirs. 
Both you and Rick could feel your wetness drip down your inner thigh. Using that discovery to his advantage, Rick started rocking you against him until his cock was all slick with your arousal. He lined himself up, and pressed against your asshole. You couldn’t help but gasp a little at the intrusion, even though you knew it was coming. They just couldn’t resist the chance to fill you right up. 
You slowly sunk down onto Rick, the familiar burn and stretch of the muscle making you groan. 
"You’re turn, Daryl." Rick told his friend as soon as your ass cheeks were flush with his thighs. Completely filled with every glorious inch. 
Daryl dipped his fingers in the pool of wetness that was dripping from your cunt, rubbing it around and then dragging his own dick through it. You tried your best to relax as he aligned with your entrance and pushed. 
"Ah! Mphmm." You moaned right into Daryl’s neck. Grasping at his shoulders and clawing down his back. Fuck, you were full. It hurt. Every time it happened, it was definitely painful for the first little bit. But quickly they found a rhythm, with Rick fucking you from below and Daryl thrusting nice and slow as he pressed messy, wet kisses to your mouth. Within a few minutes, they turned you into a babbling mess with your sweet spot stimulated from every possible angle. You were trying to tell Daryl how good he makes you feel. How pretty he is and how sexy his arms and chest are. How big his dick felt inside of you. But a soon as he was consistently hitting your cervix, you started to forget the English language and decided to stick your tongue down his throat instead. Rick's hands dug into your hips harder than you knew possible. There would be fingerprints bruised into your skin by tomorrow. Daryl’s hands held the backs of your thighs, opening you up as much as he could. Looking down once in a while at the sight of you being split right open. You could feel him twitch inside of you. You could tell he was close. The tightness and pressure getting the best of all three of you. 
"I’m- I-" you couldn’t even finish your sentence, as both men picked up their pace the second they heard your whining confession. Fucking you into adorable little moans, sobs and convulsions. A flood of heat erupting from your core, and shortly after, the feeling of both men’s hips stuttering. Emptying themselves into you. Their cum dribbling out of you as they pulled out gently. And you whining quietly at the new empty feeling. The men quickly maneuvering you onto the mattress so they could watch their contents seep out of both of your holes. They each picked a leg and started to kiss and suck little hickeys on them. Daryl’s fingers came up to drag through their seed, rubbing it all over your clit. You moaned out as he pressed two digits in to your pussy, the sound of all your cum mixing together, and squelching made you tighten around his digits. The men stayed between your legs and gave you two more orgasms. Switching off where one would work with their fingers and the other would kiss you all hot and messy. Molding you into the desperate little mess you usually were.
They only gave you a break while the three of you showered, Rick kissing the water droplets off your shoulder as you massaged some green apple scented shampoo into Daryl’s dark locks. Steam and giggles filling the master bathroom as you all washed up. 
"You still wanna watch a movie?" Rick asked while pulling on some sweatpants. Daryl rubbed a towel on his hair as you watched the two get dressed, cross legged on the bed in your cotton boy shorts and Daryl’s favorite shirt. 
"We could…" he said with a curious hesitation, "Or… we could make one...?" He suggested, with the smallest hint of shyness in his voice. He was testing the waters. Seeing how much he could he get away with today. Rick let out a dry laugh at your wide eyed gulp. Sympathizing with your poor body. Already sore and covered in love bites. But all three of you knew that no matter what, you weren’t gonna say no to the birthday boy.
(continued here)
1K notes · View notes
wttcsms · 7 months
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time, mystical time (cuttin' me open, then healin' me fine) ; simon "ghost" riley.
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pairing simon "ghost" riley x f!reader  word count 3.3k  synopsis snapshots of the defining moments in ghost's life. content contains slight angst, mild descriptions of alcohol abuse (ghost's father) + domestic abuse (non-explicit desc., but the act itself is mentioned various times), a bit of tiny look into my take on ghost's background, nsfw content, slight size kink, breeding kink, creampie, domestic fluff, pregnant!reader in some scenes, children (dad!ghost) author's notes takes place in this au & honestly is a lot more enjoyable of a read if you read that fic (+ the other connected one shots [go on my masterlist]). fun fact: simon is referred to as simon in the scenes with only you and his family. he's ghost anywhere else.
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His mother had always told him that as a baby, he was always rather quiet. Scared her half to death, she would say, ‘cause he’d rarely ever cry. Even the doctor got worried when he first came out. 
Looking back at his childhood — perhaps the lack thereof — Simon assumes it’s probably instinctual. With a deadbeat drunk of a father armed with a heavy hand, being quiet probably saved Simon’s life more times than he wants to admit. He’d be knocked upside the head for the littlest of reasons, shouted at for even less. 
I’m the man of the house. 
His father’s slurred justifications for doling out unfair punishments ring through the dark halls of his childhood home. Simon hears it while he cowers inside his closet. His room is dark because his father doesn’t believe in nightlights, and mum got slapped hard for daring to go against his wishes and trying to sneak Simon one. She thinks he didn’t see it, but Simon sees a lot more than he should. Since then, he’s been sleeping in the dark. It’s not so scary anymore. 
There are scarier things that lurk in the light, anyway. 
It’s stuffy in the closet, and he knows it’s stupid to hide here because dad will find him any second now. The punishment is bad when he gets to drinking, and it gets worse whenever Simon tries to hide. 
A loud thump against his door makes Simon hold his breath. Then, the door bangs open from the weight.
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Kicking doors open comes second nature to Lieutenant Riley. 
The loud crash of the door popping from the rusty hinges shocks the poor girls previously trapped behind them. All of them stay huddled together, staring fearfully at the loud, big men toting even louder, bigger guns. The hollowed cheeks, hopeless eyes, and array of bruises on their skin makes him sick. It’s a hot summer’s day, and Simon hates that after all this time, his observation from his childhood still stands true:
There are scarier things that lurk in the light, anyway. 
A bit hypocritical, he supposes. After all, he walks around in broad daylight, and he’s certainly no saint.
With the help of the rest of his extraction team, Ghost makes quick work of herding all the girls out of this depressing underground prison and out into a free world. He’s careful to be gentle with his touches, nothing more than a gentle guiding hand. Even with his gloves, he can’t be certain he’s not tainting them. Sins don’t wash away as easily as blood does. 
He’s the last one to leave, but he doesn’t exit alone. 
For a while, he felt a tight grip on his arm. Someone’s been clinging onto him this whole time, and with everything that’s happened, he can’t find it in his heart to shake them off. With no other distractions present, he finally turns to see who’s gotten so attached to him.
This is it. 
This is the moment where Simon Riley claims his life begins.
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It’s such a juvenile feeling, he thinks. Waiting for his phone to ring, wondering why you haven’t texted or called. It’s so silly. So what he saved your life? It’s not like you owe him anything. It’s his job. He had a duty. Nothing more, nothing less.
Besides, he’s an asshole. Not the type of asshole who thinks he’s entitled to your company since he rescued you, but the type where Soap and the rest of the team aren’t too surprised he doesn’t have anyone to come home to. 
He can’t sleep. 
It’s been weeks since he gave you that burner phone. Surely you would have called, even sent a simple “hello”, if you really wanted to. He knows there’s not much to do in that facility. He knows that you haven’t been sleeping well. He knows that he should go to sleep; he’s got an early flight to catch in an active warzone, and there’s no way in hell he’s gonna get any semblance of rest as a result. 
Instead of sleeping, he’s grabbing his own burner phone off the nightstand and staring at the screen. It’s a simple enough task, really. He can just head straight to his contacts list and click the only one that’s there. Isn’t it traditional for the guy to call first, anyway? Or is he just fooling himself into thinking that you’re waiting for him to make the first move? Do you want him to make the first move? 
He’s never experienced this before. This newfound, boyish anxiety. The equal mixture of both hopelessness and hope churning in his stomach every time he sees you; do you think of him as much as he thinks of you? The question is then followed by a decisive no. He hasn’t survived this long because of blind optimism, so there’s no point in indulging in it now. 
Will you come back then? 
You looked up at him while asking this question, and you looked like an angel unfairly punished to walk alongside man. He wanted to spend the rest of his life constructing a stairway to heaven that you could use to make it back to your rightful home. When you look that beautiful and then proceed to ask him a question, what else was he supposed to say besides,
Whenever you want me to. 
Perhaps God truly is as merciful as he is all-seeing, because after a minute of contemplation and staring longingly at your contact, his phone screen lights up with the notification he’s prayed for (the only thing he’s ever prayed for, really). 
You’re calling him. 
And true to his word, he’s on his way. 
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He’s never said I love you before, and as a result, he’s too scared to make his first attempt to do so, even though you just told him those three words yourself.
(He might tower over you, but looks can be deceiving. Simon thinks you’re much stronger and braver than him, in all the ways that matter.)
I love you.
He resists the urge to beg you to say it again and again and again, on repeat for the rest of your lives. 
He doesn’t say it back immediately, but he does let you take off his mask for the first time.
He doesn’t realize that the wide-eyed, awestruck, soft gleam in your eyes as you take him in, fully, for the first time is the same starry-eyed look he gets whenever he looks at you. He has a feeling you’re well aware of it, but now he finds the courage to confirm it.
“I love you.” 
And with a smile that could bring him back to life, all you have to say is, “I know.”
His mask is in your hands, after all.
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“You never quite outgrow it, do ya?” Tommy’s got his hands in his pockets, but Simon can still picture the wedding band on his younger brother’s finger. He had been happy when Tommy tied the knot with Beth, if not a bit jealous. 
Now, though, Simon’s got his own wedding band. It’s tucked underneath his uniform, hanging from the same chain his dog tags are. It rests against his chest, in a spot closest to his heart, right where it — you — belong.
Dad’s dead. Tommy says mum cried, but he couldn’t understand why. After all, she’s the one who faced his wrath for the longest. She’s been on the receiving end of all his harshness. She’s the one who’s taken the most hits, the hardest hits. Simon nods in agreement but doesn’t tell his brother that he thinks he might know why.
Simon knows his mother is a good woman. A long time ago, his father wasn’t the man he knew growing up. He doesn’t know when the change in his personality happened, and Simon somehow feels like it’s his fault. He was the catalyst, the trigger. While she was pregnant with him, that’s when the violence and the drinking and the anger started. He knows mum isn’t crying to mourn the man he became; she’s just finally safe to grieve about the man she loved and lost. Simon hasn’t been able to face her in a while since he’s come to the conclusion that his being born was the cause of everything horrible that has happened to her. 
“No, I suppose not,” Simone says. The house feels smaller than he remembers, but when he walks into his childhood bedroom, he’s transported to darker times. The room is as big as the whole world again. This room, this damn house, is his only world. He’s nine and cowering in fear again. He’s little again. He’s scared again. He wants to run away, but his scrawny little legs won’t let him. Dad won’t let him. 
Then he blinks and realizes that the room hasn’t changed all that much.
Within the next week, Simon gets the house demolished and the land sold. 
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“Ta-da!” You present to him a knitted, baby-blue blanket. The beginning stitchwork is sloppy at best with considerable improvement the further he looks. Between every thread, Simon can practically feel the love that’s stitched in it. 
“You like it?” You ask him, looking at him expectantly. 
“It’s perfect.” 
“Liar!” Your laugh rings through the cabin, and Simon feels like he’s being bathed in sunlight from the warmth of the sound alone. It’s distinctly yours, and he doesn’t want to be the barbarian who just takes and takes, but he wants it all to himself. He wants to catch it from the air and stuff it in his pockets and save it for when he’s in a foreign country and can’t sleep at night. 
“Why would I lie? It’s perfect.” You’re perfect.
“I messed up, like, five times trying to get this damn thing started! And it was so hard to get into a good groove since Simon Jr. thinks he’s a little football player. He’s been kicking like crazy!” To prove your point, you get closer to Simon and take one of his large hands, placing it on your growing belly. He’s sitting, surrounded by tools and pieces of a crib that he’s trying to build, and all he can do is look up in admiration at you, the most beautiful woman to walk this earth, an angel too good for this world, the mother of his child, his wife, you. Your hand is on top of his, and you squeeze it gently, and he loves the way the diamond on your wedding ring glitters in the sunlight. 
“He’s a strong one, alright.” Simon chuckles, feeling the way his son bumps against your belly. 
“Must get it from you, then.” 
That’s funny. Simon was just about to say that he’s pretty sure he gets it from you. 
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When he’s with you, Simon likes to take things slow. He can be rough at times, demanding and conquering you with nothing but brute strength and vulgar compliments. Like a true soldier, you take all of his transgressions in stride. 
Tonight is one of the nights where Simon will indulge and finally take things slow. He likes to savor every moment he gets with you because no matter how much time has passed, the pessimist in him doesn’t stop reminding him that time is fickle, and the future is never promised. 
But Simon wants to build a future with you. Simon has built a future, but he’s greedy. So, so greedy. He wants more, he wants all of you, he wants everything you’re willing to give him. The way you part your legs for him, how you willingly — lovingly — let him in, even though nature resists.
No matter how many times he’s split you open on his cock, even with the slickness of the previous two orgasms he so happily wrung out from you, there’s still resistance as the width and length of his cock struggle to slide into your cunt. 
“It’s okay, love, let me in.” His whispers of reassurance are barely heard over your little whimpers. You’re nodding, trying to be a good girl for him, but the fact of the matter is that Simon Riley is incredibly too big. He is a god among men, and you find yourself squeezing his hand tightly as the first few inches of his cock make its way into your warmth. 
“I know, darling.” He mumbles, but his gentle words are spoken roughly. Desire coats every syllable, and his voice is gravelly. He’s holding back, restraining himself from giving in and giving it to you roughly. His hand, so much larger than your own, squeezes back. He’s slowly pushing more of his length inside your needy cunt, and you moan at the feeling of being complete. 
You don’t realize the tears that are welling up in the corner of your eyes as he completely enters you, the tip of his cock perfectly pressed against your cervix. Simon’s always been good at mixing pain and pleasure, and tonight is a testament to that. 
“More, please.” It comes out like a weak, little whine, and Simon is putty in your hands. Completely malleable to your every whim and desire. His love wants more? He’ll give you everything. 
Your lashes are wet with your tears, and he watches as tiny streams of tears fall down your heated cheeks. Your face feels warm to the touch, Simon realizes, as he leans down to kiss away your tears. Poor thing. You must have exerted yourself too much when you were thrashing around earlier as he refused to remove his mouth from your precious pussy until you came in his mouth. 
You’re no match for the sheer strength and power of Simon, who’s built like a Greek god and probably just as powerful. You surrender to the overwhelming sensation of his cock stroking in and out of your cunt, and you’re damn near shameless in your greed and desire for more. 
“Cum in me. I want you to give me another baby, wanna grow our family with you.” You toss your head back in pleasure, feeling the way his grip on your hand tightens at your words. The two of you move perfectly together; you wrap your legs around his waist as his free hand grips your hip to keep you steady. 
“Yeah? My wife wants me to fuck another baby into her?” Simon grunts, doubling his efforts to ensure that his cock hits deep enough to press against all the spots that have your walls tightening around him. 
The throbbing of his cock and the allure of expanding your family with Simon, with having a part of him always, even after the two of you have left this earth, is enough to send you over the edge. The ecstasy is all-consuming; all you know is Simon. You feel him to the depth of your core, his heat pressed against your own, your shared bedroom heavy with lust and love. 
He loves the way your body goes slack from the intensity of your orgasm. It lets him know that he’s fucked you just the way you deserved to be fucked, filled to the brim with his cock and his cum and all his love. He kisses you hard, savoring the natural sweetness of your lips pressed against his own. He muffles your moans as you feel the endless stream of his cum spilling inside of you, the warmth of it all being almost too much to bear. 
“Mmmf,” You pull back from his kiss, just so you can look him in the eyes as you give him his favorite reminder in the world.
“I love you.” 
He responds with another deep kiss. It says enough. It says I love you, too, and we’re going for a round two. 
He has all the time in the world with you.
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He doesn’t feel any pain. That’s odd.
He looks back to the last minute. He heard the distinct sound of a gun firing, and he stumbled a bit as fate had its cruel fun and allowed the bullet to miraculously hit him in the one area his bulletproof gear just so happened to miss. What are the odds? 
He looks down. A dark stain is forming on his uniform, and the spot only continues to grow bigger. He moves a hand down to where the stain is at — it’s wet. A fresh wound. Fuck.
The sentiment is shared with Soap, who for once in his life doesn’t have anything smart to say. Ghost wants to say something cheeky, then. Just to keep him calm. It worked with Tommy. 
What’s the matter? Don’t worry about me. Should’ve seen the other guy. Almost had him in the last round. 
The words, Ghost realizes with growing dread, don’t quite come so easily.
It’s like his brain knows what he wants to do, but nothing is going as planned. Soap is saying something, but he just can’t quite make out the words. Johnny, speak proper fucking English, why don’t ya? 
No. That’s not the issue. Ghost frowns, but he doesn’t think Soap notices because of his damn mask. He can’t speak for shit, and he can’t hear, either. Actually, now that he’s really trying to take in his surroundings, everything’s a bit hazy, too. Like someone’s put some stupid film over everything, and stuff’s all slightly blurry. Just out of focus, just out of reach. 
“—get you home, alright?” The words sound all jumbled up, and Ghost only really catches the last end of whatever Soap’s blabbing on about. He’s a good kid. Great soldier. Stellar human being. He mentioned something about going home, but that’s just silly. The mission isn’t over yet, get it? They can’t go home ‘til the mission’s complete. 
“—don’t close your eyes—”
Home sounds nice. Warm vanilla in the colder seasons, jasmine with equal hints of something fruity and floral in the warmer ones. You fill the house with these scents, even matching your daily perfume to it. Doesn’t matter much to him, though. He hugs you close to his body and breathes in deeply, and he can still smell just you. No perfume will ever compare. 
Oh, and a busy kitchen. You’re covered in flour, his son sits on the counter, his daughter in her high chair. The entire kitchen comes to life, and every time he sees all three of you giggling in unison, his favorite sound of all, this kitchen becomes his whole world. This is what he goes to war to protect.
Baby blue walls and a crib. Crayon drawings of a stick figure family. Watching his daughter’s first steps and his son clinging to your legs. 
Maybe Soap’s right. Forget the mission. He should just head home.
But first, he’s really fucking tired. He’ll shut his eyes just for a minute.
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He blinks a few times, eyes struggling to adjust to the light. Light slaps against his face were the cause for his waking up. A damn shame, honestly. He rarely dreams, but when he does, it’s of you, and he was dreaming about something certainly worth remembering for the next time he’s reunited with you. 
He rolls over to confront whoever dared to ruin the one good rest he’s had in a long time, only to come face to face with bright, innocent eyes the same shade as his own. 
“G’morning,” his son says, the words still clumsy on the two-year-old’s tongue. When Simon doesn’t answer immediately, he resumes slapping his father’s face.
“I’m up, buddy.” 
The little toddler claps his chubby little hands together in pure joy. 
“Dada home?”
Like a sight for sore eyes, you appear in the doorway, gently opening the door and pushing it open. You’ve got your daughter in your arms, and you look ready to scold the young boy for disturbing Simon until you realize that he’s already awake. There’s that smile of yours that Simon loves so much, the one he swears could bring him back to life.
“I’m home.”
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author's note i intended for these little scenes/glimpses of his life to be the things ghost sees as he's bleeding out on the field. get it? the whole "life flashing before your eyes" thing BAHAHAHA. don't worry, he's alive and very much well, enjoying much needed domesticity with you + your little family. the last scene is him fucking u good and well, and that's the lil dream he was having. muahaha
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kisscara · 1 year
Note
can i req scara w a motherly s/o? like he gets a lil injured and s/o just babies him? i feel like that would be funny lmao
doctor, help me! [scaramouche x gn!reader] ⎯⎯ fluff, wanderer!scaramouche
a/n: keeping everyone safe from the angst.. for now. anyways thank u for requesting, anon :3 it's short and simple but i still hope u like it nonetheless ^__^
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"kuni..." you cry out, "if you keep on doing this, i'm going to end up leaving you!"
scaramouche merely stares at you with a deadpan expression from across the dinner table. "(name), i pricked my finger on a stick." he furrows his brow and watches as you continue to dramatically throw a tantrum.
"it doesn't matter!" you continue to furiously dab a ball of cotton that's lightly wettened with alcohol against his fingertip. scaramouche draws out a tiring sigh, muttering, "sometimes, i wonder whether you're my lover or my doctor."
but he has to admit, he likes seeing you like this. distraught by his safety and running all over the place, looking for the first aid kit if he got something as simple as a paper cut. "your skin is so beautiful and your safety is my top priority, yet you get into these types of dangers on the daily!"
ah, there you go again. your endearing praise for him mixed with your tone of worry. what would he do without you? scaramouche doesn't reply this time, but it's more like he's struck with silence. with his lips slightly agape, he admires your face.
you're always telling him how pretty he looks, how soft his face is, how alluring his eyes are, but not once has he seen himself that way. scaramouche doesn't notice how a smile tugs at the corner of his lips when he sees you gnawing on your bottom lip in fixation, continuing to nurse his tiny wound.
you straighten your posture and put away the cotton ball. pressing a kiss to his finger, you gently blow on it afterwards. "there, all better. that must have been hell for you to go through!" you exclaim with a frown, tightly embracing him in your arms. scaramouche could only remain silent.
the next day, he'd gone to help the traveler with their commissions. of course, he had to go through the usual routine, with you clinging to his arm, whining his ear off to refrain from hurting himself too much. "oh, what a worrywart," he mumbles aloud, catching the attention of his traveling companion.
"is it about (name) again?" aether queries with a laugh. scaramouche gives him a side glance before loudly exhaling. "i just don't understand why they're so protective of me and my well-being. it's not like my body belongs to them, does it?"
paimon floats next to aether and while shaking her head, she says, "you're right, it doesn't belong to them. but they are your (s/o), correct?" aether looks back to scaramouche, who gazes towards sumeru's wide horizon and nods as a response.
"then it makes perfect sense! they're your (s/o) as much as you're theirs, so of course they'd want you to stay safe! right, traveler?" paimon carefully nudges aether against the shoulder and aether smiles, "do you understand now, wanderer?" scaramouche knits his brows together.
love is still such a foreign concept to him.
paimon claps her hands together for a few times, "here, i got a more simple way of explaining it! say, someone were to hurt them, physically or verbally, would you want that?" scaramouche instantly replies and faces the odd fairy while crossing his arms, "no, who do you think i am?"
paimon points out, "there it is! see, that's how (name) feels about you. with you... erm, getting into physical brawls everyday, they'd definitely feel concerned, don't you think?" scaramouche's pupils dilate in realization. is that how much you mean to him, for you to constantly baby him over the littlest things?
a pink tint arises on his face and he holds the brim of his hat, head turning the other way. "tsk, i wouldn't expect any less of them." scaramouche grows flustered when he realizes paimon giggling and aether attempting to hide his wide grin.
"(name)? i'm bac-"
scaramouche lets out a muffled noise of surprise when you rush to him, your arms immediately enveloping his torso. "i missed you..." you bury your face into his shoulder and scaramouche chuckles. "i missed you too, my dear." he tilts your chin upwards with his finger and you frown.
"did you hurt yourself?" you ask. this time, of all times, he doesn't fail to notice the way you tighten your grip on his clothes. scaramouche holds your hand against his face and sighs, "no. i tried my best not to." you beam, "really?" scaramouche kisses your fingertips one by one and he closes his eyes.
"thank you, (name), for loving and caring for me."
© kisscara
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jasonsmirrorball · 4 months
Text
second star (988)
part of the dad!jason au. reader is referred to as 'mommy', female child original character, child illness, angst, allusions to canon relationships, bruce + dick make an appearance, happy ending.
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your daughter falls ill when she's about four years old. it's the kind of sickness that leaves her bed-ridden for a while, her little coughs echoing down the hall while you make her soup with a tight heart. jason fares worse, tension lining his brow and you can see the shards of his broken heart glimmering in his eyes every time she cries.
he reads to her a lot, his drowsy, tired girl curled up in his arms while he turns the pages of her favourite book. the edges of the paper are softened from the years, the scrawl of her name on the front page wobbly and overlapping the title. most times, she falls asleep before he can finish the first chapter, but it's fitful, full of shallow breaths and restless murmuring. he doesn't leave her bedside, and in the end, neither do you, taking up residence in the armchair beside her bed while her father – too big for the princess bed her beloved uncle had bought her last year – hangs his legs off the bed frame.
she cries when you hold her as jason changes her bedding, her muscles aching in time with your heart. her curls are damp with sweat, her face with tears. you murmur promises to her, kissing her salt-tracked face, i know, baby, i know. it'll be quick, i promise. daddy just has to put new covers on.
sickness is no stranger to jason's family, who've had their fair share of broken bones and other wounds. still, they come by and you watch them try their best to hide their worry. dick, kneeling by his best girl's bed and softly tucking a curl behind her ear. hi, sweetheart, he murmurs sweetly, doing okay? 'course you are, brave girl. he presses brand new stuffed toy into her arms, tucking the giraffe under the covers.
he leaves her with a hug, and you watch jason follow him out of the room, unwilling to let his older brother go just yet. the front door remains shut, and you know that they've gravitated to the kitchen, low voices muffled through the walls. you turn to your girl, her tired eyes fixed on the orange splotches, mouth open as she touches its ears. mama, look. like on tv, she says tiredly, and you grin.
when you get better, we can write dickie a card to say thank you, huh?
one by one, the rest of the family come to visit their girl. and jason says very little, face stiffer and more solemn than he ought to be at his twenty nine years old, but you know him. he's glad they're here. devastated about why. terrified as to what might come.
he'd cried the night she was born, more than once. the first time he'd seen her, tiny, wrinkled thing that she was. the first time he'd held her – his whole world, right in the palm of his hands, he'd told you later that night in a whisper, watercolour eyes tearful and not for the first time that night. didn't ever think i would get here. thought maybe i got lucky with you, he had confessed. my luck can't be so bad if i've got her, too.
you knew he was remembering those words, remembering the ones he'd told you he loved you for the first time. i'm a cursed man, sweetheart. you'd be better off with someone else. and yet...and yet i'm too selfish not to tell you i want you. i love you.
it seems especially cruel a joke of fate to allow him this chance at happiness, and threaten it so quickly.
the doctor comes and goes. bruce pays for it before the man has left the room, and you think your husband might come to physical blows with his father, in the living room, when he finds out. he doesn't. 's not for me, he tells you later, when your baby girl has fallen asleep, his face pressed into your neck. he loves her, too.
and you can't deny it, the way your father-in-law dotes on her. the grumpy old man is wrapped around her littlest finger, as charmed as you've ever seen him when your firefly seeks him out at family gatherings. she spends most of dinner by his side, insistent on sitting next to papa, much to your chagrin and reminder of her manners. it's fine, he assures you quietly. she's much better behaved than any of my children.
you know that it simultaneously warms and embitters your husband, to watch him be so good with your daughter.
she gets better slowly.
the worst of it passes in the slowest night of your life, spent wetting rags and coaxing her to take the medicine she'd been prescribed, feeding bites of food to her while holding back your own fearful tears. jason takes over when she starts to throw a tantrum, only to run out of steam and cry quietly. you have to leave the room for a moment, struggling to catch your breath.
hey, he murmurs, from the next room. you think you can take a bite for me? i know, angel, but you gotta eat something. tell you what, i'll help you finish this, and when you're better, you, me and mommy are gonna go on a trip. anywhere you want.
beach? you hear her feeble voice suggest and he hums.
yeah. you wanna go swimming?
uh-huh.
the bowl is empty by the time you return, and you don't know if it's hope that colours your vision and puts rose in the apples of her cheeks. but jason seems to see it too, and you see grief and relief in his eyes when he catches your gaze. you stand by the bed, and his fingers find yours. in her pyjamas, your girl points to the book on her bedside table.
she stays awake to see the end of the book.
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i don't know what spurred this on but i wanted to rip my heart out a little. unnamed todd baby you are the light of my life. i kept thinking about that poem about the father who got his sick daughter plums and just about in general how fathers love. it makes me so ill especially thinking about my own but i wanted to put jason in that situation and do it while trying to stay true to canon (somewhat). anyway. hope u liked this. it's unedited and hastily written but i hope it makes you feel something.
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batwritings · 4 months
Note
HEY!! i just stumbled on your account and i LOVE how you write!! can i request a fluff story with Valeria Garza COD? with a fem or gender neutral reader where they’re both pretty old, like mid 60s/70s they have grownup kids and little grandkids, they host a big family gathering and the grandkids wanna know how they both met? could you write about them meeting in their younger years? and specifically, how they met? were they rivals? were they childhood friends? was reader just a civilian who happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time? was reader a damsel in distress? (ofc this takes place after valeria retired from her gang!!)
you don’t have to write it now but i haven’t seen anything like this before, and i find it to be a very cute little concept!
OH BTW!! can reader be taller and older than Valeria? like maybe 2-3years older? and can reader have a flirty personality? also maybe more dominant than Valeria because there are hardly any fics like that, it’s always Val who’s the top and dim, let’s give her a break for once please🙏🏻🙏🏻😭😭💕
AGAIN, THANK YOU IF YOU WRITE THIS!!
I will certainly do my best to do this justice friend! Enjoy!~
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"¡Abuelita!" Your grandkids cried, rushing up to your front door. You couldn't help but smile from the kitchen as you worked on food to place on the ofrenda. You could hear the sound of Valeria greeting them and ushering them inside to start on their makeup for the evening.
"Hola mama," came your oldest child, pecking you on the cheek as they put down the extra things they'd brought for Dia de los Muertos. "The others and I are going to go finish getting set up. Can we leave the kids with you and Mama Val?"
You shoot your child a look as if to say "do you really need to ask?" before they smile and run off. It was weird to think that your babies were all grown up now, having niñas and niños of their own. But you wouldn't have it any other way.
With food prep nearly done, you stepped out of your tiny kitchen to check into where Valeria was prepping your grandkids. "Almost done chica settle down," you hear hear chide as you lean in the doorway. At nearly 64, it was harder to do, but it didn't stop you.
"¡Abuelita!" four of the five young kids exclaim rushing up to you to show their makeup. "Don't I look cool?" "Don't I look so pretty?" they asked, clamoring for your attention.
"Si, mi chiquitos," you chuckle, smiling to your partner. "You all look wonderful. And I'm sure people like Tio Diego will be excited to see you."
You could see the sad smile on Valeria's face at the mention of her old right hand. While it had been a few decades since she had gone by "El Sin Nombre", it wasn't a time too long ago for the both of you. You're pulled from your reminiscing by your littlest grandchild, the one your love was currently working on.
"Did Tio Diego introduce you two abuelita?" she asks in her tiny voice. "Is he why we get two abuelitas?" You think for a moment, wondering if she was old enough to know. A few of your grandkids knew of the past between you and Val. Not the entirety of it, but enough to know your first meeting was anything but ordinary or safe.
"He did," Valeria answers before you can, never stopping her wrinkled hand. She puts the finishing touches on the little girls face smiling at her work. "If it weren't for Tio Diego and your abuelita, I probably wouldn't get to be here doing your makeup." Your lover presses a kiss to the girl's head, helping her down off the bed.
"Yeah everyone know that!" Chimes one of your grandsons. "Mama Y/N was a medic in Las Almas and helped Mama Valeria with her injuries."
"Not here?" Asks the youngest, clearly confused. "Where would she be then?"
"I don't know mija," you tell her, leaning over Valeria now. You can faintly hear her grumble about your height. "But that pretty face of hers would certainly compliment the ofrenda."
You revel in the groans that come from your grandkids and the way your wife hides her blushing face in her hands. From the front door, one of you kids calls for the young ones, and they go rushing out to show off you wife's handiwork. You can't help but smile as you watch them go, your lover standing beside you.
"You left out the part where you flirted with me even as my prisoner amor," Valeria hums as she leans up to press a kiss to your cheek. "And how you're a cradle robber." You gape at her in mock offense.
"It's only three years!"
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emmyrosee · 1 year
Note
ofc bcs u're my fave haikyuu dad writer and the only one who satisfies my baby fever 🥵 hehe can i request baby tsumu who still cannot determine who among samu and tsumu is his/her real dad? like she often gets confused every damn time when they're altogether and tsumu has never been betrayed like that for his whole pretty life.
anw, i hope u're happy and pls always stay safe!! ilyyyy 💓💞💋
- 🩸
Hey hey!! Welcome to the party 🩸💖💖💖
WAIT OKAY SO THIS IS SO CUTE STOP-
Like I’m a firm believer that she knows the complete difference between the two of them, she sees them both so often that the differences are really obvious to her lil mind.
But then, ‘Tsumu goes away for a week or two. And ‘Samu is left being the “man” in the house (though, both men would argue that you wear the pants in the family), it just so happens that Osamu is the male features that Hisako recognizes.
So. Naturally, when Atsumu comes home, he’s got a little hat on his head bc his roots look buckwild, Osamu’s also wearing a hat bc he just came back from Onigiri Miya, and for the first time in what seems to be ever, Hisako looks between the two, as if wondering who’s who.
“This is hilarious,” Osamu snorts, enjoying the way Atsumu’s skin crawls at the idea his own kid forgot who he was. The glare he got in return was worth it, as Hisako blinks interested between the two of them, almost as if she was trying to figure out why there were two of them who looked the exact same.
“‘Sako?” You coo, bending over to set down the baby, “don’t you wanna go see dadda?”
“Yeah,” Osamu said, crouching down and opening his arms to entice her to come to him. “Don’t you want to see dadda?”
“Don’t start, Osamu!” Atsumu snaps, crouching down on his own knees, “I’m not in the mood, and I want my baby!”
“I know!” Osamu says dramatically. “She’s going to come over, you’re fine!”
You try your hardest to try your snorts behind your hand, earning a glare from your husband while your child, his baby, his blood and soul, coos happily and crawls quickly over to her uncle- you know she only did it because he’s got the smile and inviting face while her father holds an exhausted features, but the way Atsumu’s face contorts into betrayal when his twin scoops her up into his arms is just the tiniest, littlest bit funny.
“That settles that,” Osamu says cockily, and you chuckle before reaching out for Hisako.
“Atsumu-“
“Don’t talk to me,” he grumbles. You roll your eyes at his dramatics before bringing your baby over, watching as her eyes light up in familiarity.
“‘Tsumu, she didn’t forget you,” you promise, knocking the hat off his head with your free hand. As if on queue, Hisako beams a happy, teething smile up at your husband, and you can see him completely melt to her. “You two look the same with hats on. Hell, I get you two confused sometimes.”
“Truly one of the worst things you could say right now,” atsumu snips, but the minute he takes the child into his arms, he’s smiling and curling against her and relishing in her smell, her own tiny hands grasping at his hair. “Never wanna leave you again,” he murmurs, but he’s quick to shoot you a playful glare. “The two of you? I could pass on.”
“No, you couldn’t,” you assure, kissing his temple before turning on your heel to head into the kitchen.
He sighs and looks at his twin with a dramatic sigh. “No, I couldn’t.”
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bokubear · 2 years
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HQ BOYS WORRIED ABOUT TOUCHING THEIR BABY
featuring ; (timeskip !)atsumu miya, kageyama tobio, ushijima wakatoshi, and kyoutani kentarou
warnings ; insecurity ? cute husbands
notes ; i finally got around to answering some asks ! more are to come, but for now i hope this’ll serve as some form of compensation ( _ _|| ). thank you for your kind words as well ^^
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ATSUMU rocked the crib quietly, you were leaning on the doorway, eyes hardly cracking open with fatigue. he’d insisted that he’d go check on her when she began crying for the fifth night in a row, aware of just how exhausted you were. he held a soft smile on his face despite the tired eyes that watched, about to reach forward to hold the baby to his chest. he glanced at his hands skeptically, brows furrowing. “darlin’ i don’t know if i should hold her, i mean, my hands are so rough. i don’t wanna hurt her.” he sighed, slumping sadly. “you’re talking about your hands?” you waddled forward, smaller hands holding onto his to bring them against your cheek. “you won’t hurt her, and your hands are soft and warm. she’ll love them just as much as i do.” giggling softly at his reddened cheeks in fluster. “alrighty then.” he scooped her up ever so carefully, lifting her to his face while her tiny hands held his face just as yours had done many times before. “hey beautiful, your daddy loves you more than anything y’know.”
KAGEYAMA brought his little girl to the gymnasium with him early so they could play around and get used to the “feel” as tobio exclaimed with easily noticeable excitement.. that idea in mind, he’d spent what felt to be hours teaching the mini to set a ball( it was makeshift in the end ). “yes !” he jumped into the air happily, she’d finally managed to lift the ball a small portion into the air with her tiny fingers. he was beaming with pride. “c’mere ! you did so good !” he bounced around, stalling to drop to a crouch when ushering his daughter to him. yet once she arrived closer, he hesitated. he had calloused bruising at his hands for almost every finger. and the look she gave him when he didn’t airplane her( what she called it when he spun her around in the air ) broke his heart to pieces. “why no airplane daddy ?” he tilted her head comically, to which he leaned back on his heels in dismay. “mm .. daddy’s hands aren’t comfy babydoll, you wouldn’t want them on your pretty face.” she stomped her foot with a loud huff. “but i love daddy ! and airplane ! der ( there ) is nofing ( nothing ) wrong wif ( with ) your hands !” she forcefully grabbed his wrist, smiling with her missing tooth on display. so stinkin’ cute, how could he resist.
USHIJIMA had always been taken as a harsh person. maybe it was his demeanor that appeared cold and calculating that left people with that impression. or his constant drive to work harder, push harder. but to your little boy, he was nothing but a gentle giant. a teddy bear to put it perfectly. the littlest things he’d do, or the way he’d look at him. oh the way he’d look at him. the sweetest thing ever i swear. he’d offer kind reminders to wash his hands and greet others respectfully. now his son munched away at the dishes scattered on the table. although the thought of wakatoshi’s strength just registered to him as he sat. how easily he could hurt him. it scared the ace thoroughly. that pit of worry bursting into a vivacious cherry. so when he noticed the grain of rice clinging to his boy’s cheek. he withheld his urge to wipe it away. “so unlike you toshi.” you hummed, using a napkin to rid of the messy eater’s evidence. “i didn’t want to be to aggressive with him, i’m easily capable of hurting him.” he fiddled nervously. “exactly, but you’re not ever like that for either of us. believe in yourself, you’re our volleyball player after all.” you were silenced with a honeyed kiss. “now that was aggressive.” — “thank you for this .. for everything.” he placed his forehead against yours. “i mean it.”
KYOUTANI moped on the chair outside of the pediatricians office, absolutely ruined from his baby girls cries after receiving her yearly injections. it was killing him. his moping was alerted when he heard your voice say “all done !” and knew just how screwed he was. if it was this hard already to keep himself from loosing it from guilt he was certain he couldn’t take it when he saw his angels face, all tear-stained and sad. the idea was spot on. you placed her to your breast, bouncing her while filling out the paper work. meanwhile, his dainty darling was still crying her lungs out. not over the ordeal apparently. “ken, can you hold her while i write this down ?” he hit his lip, thinking over the phrase. “she’ll probably get even more alarmed if she sees me, and i’m too harsh with her, i don’t want to scare her anymore than she’s already is.” he growled, voice low. “daddy!” interrupted your reply before she was clenching her fist repeatedly in his direction to be held. “ken, she wants you, it’s okay.” you assured, your muscular husband complying as he held her to his chest, shushing her cries. “shhh it’s okay i’ve got you.” he caressed her dampened cheeks, the nurses echoing an ‘aww’ from behind the counter. kyoutani couldn’t have been more embarrassed.
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-maak
plagiarism, repost, and editing is prohibited
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lights will guide you home (p.m.m.)
a/n: this is the if i stay!au i never intended to actually write, but it feels like a long time coming. this is not same mistakes-verse canon but an AU that takes place inside the same mistakes universe? does that make sense? anyways, there’s a playlist for this fic and um i think i’m gonna go sob now
summary: “If you want to go, I need you to know that it’s going to be okay.” 
-
Or: Maverick says goodbye. 
title comes from coldplay’s “fix you”
main masterlist | top gun: maverick masterlist | same mistakes-verse 
warnings: hurt/no comfort, heavy angst, major character death, car accidents, hospitals, ventilators, mentions of giving birth, rebel as a baby, blood, do not drive while under the influence, hit and run, medical inaccuracies, mentions of the afterlife, mentions of canon deaths, mentions of an afterlife, i think i broke the angst meter, 
word count: 6.1k
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tears stream down your face/when you lose something you can not replace
It’s quiet in the room. Barely lit. The only sound comes from the machine in the corner, from the ventilator keeping his daughter alive, the steady beeping of the machine measuring her heart rate.
He sighs, letting go of her hand and bringing his arm to rest on his knees. His head hangs down, his hands coming up in the gesture of a prayer.
He knows in his heart what he needs to do.
So he steels himself, searching for the strength to be brave just one last time, and be the father she needs him to be.
He takes a deep breath, taking her hand again as he shifts up to brush some of her hair away from her face. He allows his fingers to trail over her face, trying to memorize the way it feels under his calloused fingertips.
He squeezes her hand, hanging his head once more.
“If-” His voice gets caught in his throat and he has to cough to clear it.
Be brave, one more time.
He swallows, nodding to himself.
“If you want to go, I need you to know that it’s going to be okay.”
-
He remembers the first time he held her so clearly.
Maybe now more than ever.
He remembers how quiet it had been in the nursery. It was late at night and he shouldn’t have been there. But Natalie’s birth had been so stressful and chaotic that the nurse must have taken pity on him, letting him in to hold his daughter.
He remember reaching out for her little hand, so small and tiny and fragile.
He remembers the fear that had struck him cold.
He wasn’t ready for this. He wasn’t ready to be a father. He barely knew how to keep himself alive, why Goose and Carole trusted him Bradley was beyond him.
Deep down, he knew that wasn’t true. He’d go to the ends of the earth for the littlest Bradshaw. His buddy.
Even in her sleep, she’d wrapped her fingers around his own, nuzzling closer to his touch. His heart clenched at the movement, feeling an overwhelming sense of love come over him, quickly replacing the fear.
He reached down, gingerly picking her up. He was afraid he’d wake her but all she did was hum as he gently pulled her to his chest. He held her over his heartbeat, slowly rubbing his hand up and down her back.
She was so small.
“Hi baby.” He whispers. “It’s your Daddy. It’s late right now, so we can officially be introduced in the morning, but I just wanted to come say hi.”
She yawns, nuzzling closer to him.
If it’s possible, love blooms even brighter in his chest, a sense of pride swelling in him.
This was his child.
He bows his head, tucking his chin on top of her head, hiding the tears at the fact that Carole and Goose had been right, that all he needed was to see her, and it would all click.
This was his daughter.
Looking down at the little child in his arms, he places a soft kiss to her head before gently putting her back down. He reaches out, tracing his fingertips over the few tufts of hair on her head.
He swears, in that moment, that he would do whatever it took to protect his daughter from harm.
-
He couldn’t protect her.
It’s all he can think of as Penny drives him to the hospital.
He should’ve been there to protect her.
The night is rainy, thundering against the rooftop of the car as he struggles to keep himself upright and breathing, mind racing with the worst possibilities. Out of the corner of his eye, he recognizes the movement of Penny glancing at him before reaching out to squeeze his thigh.
“She’ll be okay.” Penny whispers. “Your daughter is nothing if not a fighter.”
He knows that, rationally, he knows that.
But for as much of a fighter as his daughter is, he knows that the universe is just as much of a cruel temptress, who cares little about matters of life and death, of love and loss, of the people who are still needed on this earth.
Bradley needed her. Javy too. Amelia and yes, even Jake.
Many loved his daughter, even if she didn't always see it. Many needed her in their lives.
He still needed his daughter.
Getting the call, the worst call, had been like a bucket of ice down his spine.
The hospital hadn’t told him anything over the phone, which only stood to heighten his fears. They’d just asked him to come to the hospital as soon as he possibly could, which only made his worry grow.
The rest of the drive is a blur.
He remembers his breath getting caught in his throat as he stepped through the door, brain flashing back to the night Carole had checked into the hospital for the last time.
Penny squeezes his shoulder, bringing him back to the present. She nods at him, the smallest signs of encouragement, moving her hand down his arm to intertwine her fingers with his own.
You can do this.
He walks to the front desk, the nurse in green and pink scrubs with frogs looking up at him. “How may I help you?”
“My- my daughter.” Penny squeezes his hand as he forces himself to take a shaky breath. “I’m Pete Mitchell, I received a call that my daughter was in a car crash and was brought here?”
The nurse behind the one sitting, wearing all blue scrubs, looks up at him from a chart she’s looking over. “You’re Pete Mitchell?”
He nods, afraid of the look the flashes through her eyes at the sight of him, at the way she softens as she steps closer like he’s a wounded animal who might run.
“Your daughter is still in surgery. When she’s out of surgery, she’ll be moved to the ICU and at that time, you may see her. I’m afraid I can’t give you any more information at this time.”
“How- how did this happen?”
Someone clears their throat, prompting them to turn. An older man is standing next them. He’s wearing a police uniform, holding his cap in his hands.
There’s lines under his eyes, sign of years of laughter and love.
What won’t be for the first time that night, he’s struck with the realization that his daughter may never see those days.
“Mr. Mitchell, I’m Officer John Matthews. I was the responding officer at the scene. I rode with your daughter in the ambulance here and I’d be happy to fill you on what happened. I’d like to wait with you, if that’s alright.”
He realizes too late that there’s still blood on this man’s uniform.
His daughter’s blood.
“We’d love to know anything you can tell us.” Penny says from beside him.
His breathing is coming out in shorts bursts now as he zeroes in on the crimson stain against the Navy blue on this man’s uniform. It feels like he’s underwater as this man guides them to a set of chairs to sit.
A thought strikes him, breaking him out of the panic.
“I’ve- I’ve gotta call Brad. Do you think he knows? He needs to be here, he-” He stands up, staggering as he fumbles for his phone, patting his pockets.
“Mav!” A voice calls out from across the waiting room, sprinting towards him from the door.
His head swings up, barely catching sight of his son before his body barrels into him. Instinctively, he wraps his arms around him, trying to soothe his shaking body.
“They called, they wouldn’t tell me anything, oh God, please tell me she’s going to be okay-”
Bradley pulls away, wiping at his eyes furiously.
“Kiddo, I-” He shakes his head. “I don’t know. She’s still in surgery.”
“Why don’t you have a seat? Officer Matthews was just about to explain what happened, he was the responding officer on the scene.” Penny says softly from behind them. Bradley nods, moving to one of the chairs, pulling Maverick with him. “This is Bradley, her fiancé.”
Matthews gives Brad a small smile. “Hi son. Nice to meet you.”
Bradley gives a jerky nod in return.
Matthews sighs, running his hands over his pants. “Your daughter was hit by a driver who was driving while under the influence. Her car was t-boned on the driver side in the middle of the intersection. The driver had the red but sped through the intersection anyways, hitting her at 80 miles per hour. He took off after the accident, but because he was highly intoxicated and injured and on foot, he only made it a few blocks before officers caught up with him. He’s currently in custody and sustained minor injuries. We have traffic cam footage of the accident as well, so he will be facing charges.”
Matthews sounds like he’s rattling off a report he wrote, telling them the pure facts and nothing more.
“I was the responding officer at the scene. Because of the rain and the force of the impact, your daughter’s car slid on the asphalt and-” Matthews cuts himself off, taking a shaky breath before shutting his eyes. He doesn’t need the officer to continue to guess what happened next. “Mr. Mitchell, I am so sorry. We did everything we could at the scene to give her proper medical attention before EMTs got there. I am so sorry.”
Next to him, Bradley whimpers. “She was just supposed to be picking Harvard up. She was just supposed to pick him up and take him back to his house and come home. I offered to go with her, but she told me to stay in bed, that I looked too cozy with Buddy. I should’ve been there. It should’ve been me.”
Shoes squeak on the floor, causing them all to look up.
Javy is standing there, looking paler and shaky than he’s ever been, even after the time he went into g-loc the first time this group had all been together. He seems frozen in place, fear etched into every inch of his face.
Jake’s next to him, barely keeping Javy from tumbling to the floor.
Behind him, he can see Natasha’s shorter figure.
Bob towers over them, with Mickey leveling out the group.
The shoes they heard are attached to that of Reuben, who’s holding a coffee carrier. His wife Celia is next to him, holding two more.
No one seems sure what to say, all just looking at one another.
“If Rebel was here, she’d say we all look like the Spiderman meme.” Mickey breathes out, a ghost of a smile appearing on his face.
It’s Jake who laughs first, breaking the tension. “Garcia, could you read the room please?” He says through choked chuckles, head swinging back to the shorter man.
Mickey shrugs. “She would’ve thought it was funny.”
“I hate that you’re right and I can not wait to see the look on Rebel’s face when you tell her that.” Reuben says. “Now come on you lot, sit. We’re going to be here a while.” Reuben nods his head to chairs as they follow his direction, gathering around him and Bradley. “I brought coffee for everyone. The smallest of comfort right now, you know?”
The group is silent as they sit, taking their coffee from Reuben and Celia. When Reuben gets to Maverick, he wordlessly holds out the drink before sitting down next to him. Penny has since moved, talking with Celia and checking in with the aviators. He shifts the cardboard sleeve on the cup as Reuben sighs, leaning back in the chair.
“I’m really sorry Mav.” He says, shaking his head. “I’m- I’m a Dad and I can’t even imagine what you’re going through right now.”
“That explain the coffee?” He asks, holding the cup up.
Reuben chuckles. “That’s Celia’s idea. She’s holding it together for me, I think. Penny called me and Celia’s first instinct was to figure out how to make it better for everyone else. We fell in love with saints of women.”
He frowns, nodding.
Penny really had been great and things really hadn’t even begun to unfold.
He had no idea what would happen over the next 24 hours.
So yeah, maybe he could kind of understand the appeal of coffee, a small gift of something he didn’t have to worry about while he focused in on the one thing that did matter: his kid.
-
He isn’t sure how much longer he sits there, tearing at the edges of the cardboard sleeve. The waiting room is quiet, a nervous tension buzzing in the air. 
His pilots are quiet, maybe for the first time in their lives. 
Callie has appeared along with Billy and Neil. Her head is leaned on Billy’s shoulder, legs propped up on Billy’s lap. 
Mickey’s leaned back in his chair, Reuben’s arm thrown over his WSO. Celia is on the opposite side of Mickey, rubbing her arm up and down the man’s shoulders. 
Natasha is next to Brad, her hand on his knee. Bob’s next to them, arm slung over Nat’s shoulder as she leans into his chest. 
Javy won’t let Jake touch him, it seems. Javy’s head is in his hands all while Jake watches his boyfriend closely. 
“Pete Mitchell?” 
He looks up towards the voice. It’s the nurse from earlier, the one with the pink scrubs with frogs. 
“Your daughter is out of surgery. Dr. Hansley was wondering if he could have a word?” 
He nods, standing up from his chair with aching limbs as he walks towards the nurse and down a hallway with her, feeling almost like he’s walking towards hearing his daughter’s death sentence. 
The doctor meets them outside of the ICU, a younger man with glasses atop his nose. He almost looks like Bob. 
“Mr. Mitchell, it’s good to meet you. I’m Dr. Carlos Hansley, I was the chief surgeon who operated on your daughter.” 
“Is she going to be okay?” He asks abruptly, unable to bring himself to do the niceties. 
The doctor sighs. “Unfortunately, I can’t guarantee that. Your daughter had many mild contusions and lacerations along the left side of her body. In addition, she also had what is called a hemothorax, which is internal bleeding in the lungs. This was due to the impact of the collision and the subsequent rolling of the car. We had to sedate her and put her on a ventilator to allow for a chest tube to be inserted so as to drain the blood. We also suspect that she may have some brain swelling due to the collision, but our main priority was to drain the blood from her lungs.” 
He swallows, nodding. “So, what’s best case scenario we’re looking at here?” 
“Best case scenario? We are able to ween the sedation and take her off the ventilator at some point over the next few days, where she will be able to breath on her own.�� The doctor pauses, biting his lip. 
“But?” 
“But there is no telling just how much her quality of life will be diminished, just that it will most likely be severe. As of right now, we are unable to tell the long-term consequences of the collision. Your daughter is physically stable right now. But it’s up to her to keep fighting and I want you to be fully aware that it may not be worth it to her.” Dr. Hansley sighs. “This is never easy to tell a parent but you should prepare yourself for the possibility that your daughter may not wake up.” 
His ears begin to ring at the words, suddenly feeling underwater once more. 
“Can I see her?” 
Dr. Hansley nods. “This is your daughter’s nurse, Jessica. Should you need anything while you’re with her, Jessica can help you and will be attending to your daughter. She will explain all the visitation rules while she is in the ICU.” 
He nods as the doctor excuses himself, walking down the hallway. 
“You mentioned something about a fiancé?” 
He nods, looking back down the hallway where he came from. “Yes, Bradley. He’s her fiancé.” 
She nods, gesturing back towards the hallway. “We usually limit visitors in the ICU to that of family, and although not legally married, I trust that he will want to be here. However, it seems that there are many people here who might wish to say goodbye to her, so I just ask that you all behave and limit yourselves to three in the room at a time.” 
“Do you think she’ll make it?” He hears himself asking before he can even register that the words have left his mouth. 
It almost feels like he’s floating. 
Jessica sighs. “It’s tough to say, Mr. Mitchell. I think that your daughter is going to be one hell of a fighter. Why don’t you stay with your daughter if it’s alright I inform her fiancé of her state?” 
He nods, starting towards the bed he can see his daughter laying on through the glass window on the door before stopping again. “We’re Navy.” He admits sheepishly. “They’re my pilots, they fly with my daughter. They’re family.” 
She gives him a soft smile. “Well then I’ll make sure they all know they’re welcome to come by. I’ll send Bradley down here as well.” 
“Thank you.” He whispers. 
“Of course, Mr. Mitchell.” 
“Pete. Please call me Pete.”
She nods. “Of course, Pete. Now go look after your daughter.” 
-
It’s the waiting that kills him from the inside out, unable to do anything more for his daughter than just wait. 
-
It’s not for another two days before the doctor informs them that they should probably start thinking about taking his daughter off the ventilator and letting her pass peacefully. 
Bradley rages. 
-
The next morning, everyone prepares to say their goodbyes. 
Despite the open offer to go with them, he keeps himself in the waiting room, Penny’s hand in his. 
Callie and Billy go first. Callie only makes it a few minutes before she re-appears, sobbing so hard he isn’t sure she’s breathing. 
Reuben and Celia go next, Celia bringing a little teddy bear Reuben’s boys, Elijah and Adrian, had picked out for her to bring her comfort in her last moments. 
When Celia leaves, Mickey joins Reuben. The two are in there for almost an hour and a half and he wonders what stories Mickey is telling her before he never gets the chance to. He briefly thinks he might be catching her up on the latest Marvel film she hadn't seen yet, although he couldn’t tell you what it was. 
Natasha and Bob go together, although Bob leaves before Natasha does, the girl spending another 45 minutes with his daughter. He wonders what kinds of promises she’s making about Bradley. 
“Do you know what you’re going to do yet?” 
He shakes his head slowly, unable to meet his girlfriend’s eyes. She sigh, shifting gently in the chair next to him as Amelia disappears down the hallway with Jake to go say goodbye. 
“I’ll support you no matter what choice you make Pete.” She says, taking his head and settling her chin into his shoulder. 
“I want to be selfish.” He says, his voice cracking. “I want to be selfish and tell her to stay. I want her to fight and I want her to make it. I want to be selfish and keep my daughter with me.” He shakes his head, swallowing as he finally turns to look Penny in the eye. “But she could live the rest of her life in pain. We have no idea what life would be life for her physically if she woke up, to say nothing of her mental state. And I would never forgive myself if my daughter spent another ten years on this Earth in pain all because I was selfish.” 
“We make sacrifices for the ones we love.” She whispers. 
“I just wish it didn’t have to be me.” 
“She loved you Pete.” Penny whispers, pressing a kiss to his shoulder blade. “I know that doesn’t make it better or bring your daughter back but she loved you. She knows the sacrifice you’re making for her. You did right by your kid Pete.” 
“She deserved more time.” 
“I know but you’ve got to be brave enough to let her go. You’re strong enough to let her go and I’m right there with you.” 
“I love you, you know that?” 
She gives him a watery smile, pushing back some of his hair. He sits there a minute more, allowing himself to feel her love before he stands up. 
“Pete, wait.” 
He turns as Penny stands up, wrapping him in a hug. “Tell her I loved her too.” 
“She loved you Penny.” 
“My favorite thing about her. How much love she had to give to everyone.” She squeezes him before stepping back. “I’ll be right here.” 
He nods before sighing, turning away to walk towards his daughter’s room. He passes Amelia in the hallway and she stops, giving him a hug. He holds the girl to his chest, noting the way she’s grown up before his very eyes. 
“I’m sorry Maverick.” She whispers. 
“It’s okay A. She’ll be somewhere better, you know that.” She nods, wiping at her eyes once more before disappearing down the hallway towards her Mom. 
He finally reaches her room, pausing outside the cracked door, as he catches the sound of Jake’s voice. 
“-you didn’t even like me, you know?” The blonde sniffs and he suspects Jake might be barely suppressing tears. “You didn't even like me and yet you tried so hard for Javy.” Another sniff. “I think maybe that’s what I’ll miss most: your heart. You loved people so deeply, and you tried to see the best in everyone even when they’re just awful to you.” 
He pushes the door open a little wider, leaning against the doorframe as he takes in the pilot seated next to her bed. He’s holding one of her hands, head bent over her body. 
“You know, I- I would always argue with you just because I thought it was fucking funny. Javy always begged me to stop, told me that one day I was gonna get smacked and he wouldn’t feel sorry for me. But- But I loved that about us, you know? We argued and bickered and got in each other’s faces but you still would’ve picked the phone up at 3 am if I had called.” 
Jake sniffs again and as Maverick creeps closer into the room, he can see the fresh tear tracks on Jake’s face. 
“Getting to know you has been one of the greatest pleasures of my life. You were a light, Rebel, and the world will surely be darker without you. I’m- I’m sorry it had to end this way and those words feel hollow but I am. I’m sorry for all the things you’ll never get to see. I um- I bought that ring I was showing you.” Jake sniffs agains as Pete’s heart clenches. 
His daughter had been helping Jake plan to propose to Javy, he realizes. 
“It’s a shame you won’t be here to see it, because he’d want you to be here. He loved you with his whole heart, you know. You two truly were platonic soulmates and I loved y’alls friendship maybe more than you loved it. Because I knew that if something ever happened to me, you’d be there to look after him. So here’s my promise to you: I’ll look after them. I’ll look after Javy, I’ll look after Bradley, and I’ll even be sure to look after Pops. I don’t want you to worry that they’ll be alone because they won’t.” 
Jake rubs his hands over his face as he pulls away from her, standing up from his chair. 
“There’s some place better.” 
Jake jumps, turning to face him. 
“Mav, I-” 
“She really cared about you.” 
The pilot nods, glancing back at her. “She was a good friend. I’m really gonna miss her.” 
“There’s some place better.” He whispers, throat closing up as he looks back to his daughter. 
He knew what he needed to do. 
Jake pats him on the shoulder as he walks past. He stands there for a minute, just watching her before moving closer to her bed, sitting down in the chair Jake had abandoned as he picks up her hand. 
He squeezes it, looking over his daughter. He spies the little teddy bear tucked up on the bed, right next to her cheek. It almost makes it seem like she’s just fallen asleep. 
There was an ache settling in his chest, one he was never sure he’d fill, the same ache that had settled in his chest when Goose, Carole, Ice, left him. 
“If you want to go, I want you to know that it’s going to be okay.” He whispers, looking at her face. He rubs his thumbs over the bruised knuckles, wondering how they ended up here. 
She wasn’t supposed to beat him back to them. 
She was supposed to live a long, healthy life with Bradley and their dog and everything she had ever wanted. 
He decides in that moment that losing his child is more painful than anything he’s ever experienced as his breathing becomes ragged, eyes wet. 
“I want- I want to be selfish. I want to be selfish and tell you to stay, to fight, to be here with us. But I know that- that fighting may not be worth what you know will wait for you if you wake up. And I guess- I guess it’s kind of my choice here too, and that maybe I’m taking it away from you. But from the moment you were born, I-” 
He chokes on his breath, shuddering as he bows his head. “I promised to keep you safe. I promised I would protect you. And I’ve done a really shit job of it, haven’t I? I’ve failed you, every time, I’ve failed. And I won’t- I won’t fail you this time kiddo. I promise.” His voice cracks on the last word, body overcome with sobs. 
He isn’t sure how long he sits there, crying over her body, but the sky outside has darkened by the time he finally pulls himself together, the answer becoming clearer as he looks at her. 
Finally, he stands up, ready to face his decision. 
He sighs, closing the door behind him as he faces Javy and Bradley. They’re the only two left, minus Jake who’s lingering. He’d sent the rest of them home hours ago, wanting them to get some rest. They both watch him carefully as he pulls up a chair in front of them.
He swallows, the tears refusing to leave even as he tried to steady himself. “I have made the decision to pull her off the ventilator.” 
The words are quiet but Bradley’s next are not. 
“Mav, you can’t.” His eyes are wide and he can’t bring himself to meet them for too long, knowing he’s got the same betrayed look in his eye the day he found out he had pulled his papers. “Why are you just- why are you just giving up on her? She still has so much fight in her.” 
“Bradley, listen to me.” He says, doing his best to keep his voice measured. “We have no idea what it would be like for her if she survived. She would probably never fly again, she could spend the rest of her life in pain. I’m not taking that risk, not when she can go peacefully.” 
“No, she- she wouldn’t want you doing this.” 
“Bradley, you have to let her go.” He whispers. The pilot stands up abruptly, chair clattering to the floor from the force of the movement. 
“No!” He nearly shouts. “No, and I can’t believe I’m the only one fighting for her. I can’t believe you’re giving up on her like this! She’d be so disappointed in you, Mav.” Maverick winces, looking away from his son. 
“Brad, I’m sorry but this is what’s for the best for her.” 
“No, you’re wrong. I- I can’t be here.” 
Bradley turns, stalking down the hallway as he lets out a sigh, rubbing a hand over his face. 
“You’re doing the right thing.” Javy says quietly, even as he looks torn apart from the inside out. 
“You’re welcome to stay when they take the ventilator out until she passes.” 
Javy sniffs, shaking his head. “I can’t. I’m afraid- I’m afraid that if I stay, that’s going to be the only way I remember her. And I- I want to remember her the way I’ve always known my best friend. I want to remember her as the girl with the witty comments and who loved so fiercely. I want to remember her as full of life and not- not laying in a hospital bed.” 
He nods, reaching over to grasp Javy in a hug. The man returns it, tucking his head into his shoulder. “You were her best friend. No one can take that from you and it'll always be that way.” 
Javy nods, gripping him tighter. 
“I’m gonna go- I’m gonna go say goodbye to her.” 
He nods as Javy clings to him for a minute more before letting him go, moving to walk into the room. 
“Mav?” He turns, catching sight of Javy hesitating at her door. “Would- would you go with me? I’m- I’m scared.” 
He follows Javy into the room, shutting the door behind them. He stands, back resting against the wall, as Javy takes her hand. It’s all he does for a while, just looking at her. 
“I- I don’t even know where to start.” Javy whispers. “You were—are—my best friend. I don’t want to say goodbye because goodbye means that I have to move on with life without you in it and God, there’s never been a moment we’ve been friends where I thought of that as a possibility. I’m always- I’m always gonna remember you as the girl with the witty comebacks and insane flying skills and some of the best hugs.” Javy takes a shaky breath. “God, I always took for granted the time we had. I thought we’d have forever to get up to stupid shit and annoy our partners and I-” 
It’s then that Javy breaks down and he’s known his pilot long enough to know when he needs space. It’s hard on him too, watching all these people who had loved her have to say goodbye to her. 
It kills him to think that there might've been a point in her life where she had thought she wasn’t loved so strongly, so immensely. 
He walks blindly down the hallways to the nurses station where Jessica sits, typing something on the computer. She catches sight of him, offering him a soft smile. “Yes, Pete? What can I do for you?” 
He sighs, leaning against the counter. “I’ve decided I want to take her off the ventilator.” 
She sighs and nods. “I think you’re making the right choice here, Pete.” She says, standing up from the desk. 
“I hope so.” 
They walk down the hallway as she softly explains the procedure to him, how they’ll sedate her so she’ll feel no pain as she goes. She explains that they can be there the whole time so that she doesn’t have to be alone when she goes. 
As the reach the room, Javy’s still in there, Jake hugging his boyfriend as he cries. Javy pulls back when he spots them, Jake understanding in a moment what’s about to happen. 
Javy leaves the room, Jake offering him a final hug as he exits. He takes a deep breath, sitting down in a chair, as Jessica begins the process of taking her off the ventilator. He forces himself to watch, to hold his daughter’s hand as he tries to soothe her. 
Finally, as Jessica leaves, she rests a hand on his shoulder and whispers, “Let me know if you need anything.” He nods numbly, unable to look away from his daughter. She leaves, the sound of the door shutting behind her sounding through the room. 
He glances at the monitor, realizing her numbers aren’t going down like they should be. 
“Why is she fighting?” He whispers, rubbing his thumb over her knuckles. “It’s okay sweetheart. I’m here, please don’t fight it, please just let go. It’s okay, I’m telling you it’s okay to go.” 
He nervously watches the numbers on the machine next to her, wondering if she’s in pain, desperately hoping she’s not panicking and thinking they abandoned her. 
“It’s okay, honey. Let go. I’m right here honey, it’s okay.” 
The door opens, revealing Bradley, who looks beyond distraught. His hair is tugged in wildly different directions, eyes red as his face is covered in tear tracks. He shuts the door quietly behind him, walking to sit down next to her. 
“How’s she doing?” He whispers, taking her other hand. 
“Fighting it.” 
Bradley grimaces, leaning forward to run his fingers over her forehead and down her cheek. “It’s okay baby. Your Dad and I, we’re right here. Let go. It’s okay to go, please don’t fight it.” 
He watches as his daughter’s numbers settle to how Jessica told him they should, almost like she’s breathing a sigh of relief as Bradley tells her it’s okay. 
“I love you, baby. It’s okay to go. Go to Mom and Dad, they’ll take care of you. I’ll be okay, I promise. I know you’ll wait for me. Just let go, let them take care of you.” 
His throat closes as he watches Bradley say goodbye, intertwining his fingers with her own. 
He forces himself to not watch the numbers on the machine that signal her getting closer to passing but instead focuses in on her face, the last few moments he has with his daughter. 
“I love you sweetheart. It’s okay, you don’t have to be scared. Ice is waiting for you.” He whispers, squeezing your hand. “He’ll take good care of you, sweetheart.”
In what is probably a matter of seconds, but feel more like a lifetime, she slips away. 
The machine gives a steady beep, signaling the end of her life. 
Bradley squeezes her hand ever so tighter, his head falling to rest on her arm as a sob overtakes his body. His shoulders are shaking with the weight of everything. 
Maverick can’t make himself move. He should go over there, comfort his son, tell him it will be okay, but he can’t bring himself to look away from the sight of his daughter. 
She looked so peaceful. 
-
Go to Mom and Dad, they’ll take care of you. I’ll be okay, I promise...
You feel warm, the sound of Bradley’s voice appearing. It’s comforting, hearing him tell you that it’s okay. You want to give him a hug, to run your fingers through his hair, and give him one last kiss. To tell him that you’re sorry it had to end this way, that the two of you hadn’t had more time. 
You want to curl up in your Dad’s arms, like all those times you’d done when you were scared when you were little. To tell him you were sorry you had become one more person he had lost. 
You hoped they stayed close to each other for the time they had left, that they wouldn’t make it their mission to come join you too soon. 
It’s okay, you don’t have to be scared. Ice is waiting for you...
Something lights up inside of you at the thought of your godfather again. As their voices become fuzzy and distant, the warmth envelopes you, almost like a hug as you’re drifting off to sleep. 
The next thing you feel is someone strong wrapping their arms around you, a hug from someone who smells like honey and ocean water. Like Carole had. 
The warm white clears, revealing a man who looks to be like your fiancé did, if only 40 years before. A man you recognize from pictures and hazy memories. He offers you a kind smile, if albeit a bit sad. 
Th person hugging you strokes your hair, whispering words that don’t register as your throat closes up, catching sight of another figure. 
“Ice?” 
He turns, giving you a watery smile. 
“Hi kiddo.” 
The person hugging you pulls back every so slightly, giving you a chance to catch the unmistakable blonde hair of Carole Bradshaw. She gives you a warm smile, still not letting go of you. 
“You’re safe now. We’ve got you.” 
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makoodles · 8 months
Note
Let's continue with the fluff, (I know people are asking you a lot of content, so I want to give some for your enjoyment)
Your baby boy, being the littlest baby to have been ever born in the reef, every metkayina is baffled when they see him in your arms or with any of your other family members around, everyone knew that the baby was going to be little, your height practically a joke for them, but he is still such a tiny bit of a na'vi that everyone is just so careful when he is around.
Your baby boy, that takes advantage from his tiny size as a toddler and simply disappears, are you and Ronal chatting while cooking? He is gone in a few second from your side and is incredible near the fire place where Ronal catches him in time to prevent an accident, her heart near an attack, Tonawari, Ao'nung and the second youngest (Ronal's unborn baby still doesn't have a name but I figure that it's a few years older) go hunting? The little bean somehow got with them and now the three have to return now , like right now, because they have a baby outside of the reef with his mothers and sister in the verge of tears and calling out to Eywa for mercy because they can't find him since an hour ago.
The little menace only giggles when he is showered in kisses when he is safely delivered home yet again and is embraced by his mothers that can only thank Eywa, it doesn't matter that they check everytime they go out, he always makes his way with them, (Ao'nung is quite sure that his little brother is some kind of different being like Kiri, somehow, because he can't understand how he can do so much when he barely just learned to walk)
Your baby boy, who is now a kid, the littlest of the entire tribe, other kids his age are more tall (damn, even more strong), he looks at his family, many have told him that he looks a lot like his father and sister (Tsireya is the female version of Tonowari and you can't tell me otherwise) but with the eyes and fourth fingers of his mama, some kids make fun of him sometimes but he doesn't tell anyone and just does little evil deeds here and there using his strange ability to be almost unnoticed by everyone, he never gets caught because there is no evidence, you and Tonowari are so sure that it is his fault but there is no way to prove it, Ronal only sides smiles to her kid.
Your baby boy, now a teenager, that looks how, like every year, the Tulkun return home, he looks at his whole family go running to them but he chooses to stay with his mother, he knows that it is hard for her, it has been years but Ronal never told him, the story too gruesome to such a young kid, but the people talk and he ended up knowing either way, Ronal, as tsa'hik, will sooner or later go out, but until then he will stay to her side and then accompany her out.
Your baby boy, a teenager, who likes to go sunbathing for hours, people tells him that it is dangerous, going limp in the surface could get the attention of any predator that goes under him, but he likes to do it, there is no predator in the area of the reef, he just likes to do it, he remembers your tales, the planet from where his mama came, he knows that it's not the same sun, not the same planet structure (to whatever that is), butt he gets the connection of it, especially at night, because he remembers which little star is yours.
Your baby boy, not a baby anymore, (Tonowari always reminds you to stop calling him like that but Ronal kind of understands you because is a sky demon thing to show love, or something like that, remember that for na'vi calling someone a baby is basically an insult) is finally getting his first tattoo after finally receiving the merit for it from his father, but he doesn't have the slightest idea of what to get.
Your baby boy, who drags you out the pod, taking you to see his spirit brother, Ronal and the other village artisans are just finishing the tattoo on his big abdomen that goes similar to the one he got done on one side of his face.
this is so cute, why do i feel emotional about a baby boy that i don't have 😭😭
the bit about him running away when no one is looking hit me hard too because i was a runner as a child lmaoooooo
tysm for this, it was so cute and i had the best time reading it! it was definitely a nice little change!
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Text
The Littlest Ghost
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(Dieter x horror loving female)
Words: 667
This is a baby’s first word story so obviously it’s going to be so stinkin’ adorable. Also Dieter is being Dieter.
Adorable artwork is by Laure S. Illustrations find them here!
Check out masterlist here
Dieter hated meetings and he was stuck in them all morning. He could do them from the comfort of his home office, but he still hated them. Normally his mornings were pleasant as he could have breakfast with his family but today, he could only give his wife and baby a quick kiss and cuddle before locking himself away for a few hours. His bowl of porridge with fruit sustained him through the hours but if would have been more fun eating with his daughter as she was now capable of eating her own porridge and she loved to copy his actions.
Finally, he was released from his custody and almost jumped out of the office and skipped his way to the living room where he could see you were folding a massive pile of laundry. He had to take a double take when he noticed a little figure covered in a little white sheet just floating around.
“Honey cakes, why is there a tiny ghost in the house?”
“Clara wanted to be a ghost,” you said so casually, “I was folding the sheets and she enjoyed it when they went over her, and I had a scrap of fabric, so…”
“Ghost costume?”
“She’s having fun. And it kept her quiet during your meeting, how’d that go by the way?”
“Oh, it was fine, glad it’s over with…” but his complaints were interrupted by the tiniest little ‘boo’.
You and Dieter glanced at each other before kneeling down to look at your daughter, “Say that again, pumpkin.”
“Boo!”
Dieter was on the verge of tears, “Her first word!” He reached out his arms to pull her into a hug, but she moved out of the impending embrace and sternly said, “No!”
“What?”
“No!”
“Oh, her second word,” you proudly exclaimed then turned to your husband, “Dieter you have to respect her boundaries as a ghost.”
He looked glum as the little ghost waddled off. “Ghosts don’t want cuddles?”
Eventually Clara removed her ghostly façade as she wanted daddy hugs which Dieter was delighted to help with. While making lunch, you could hear the amusing exchange between the two of them.
“Can you say dada? Can you say dada?”
“No!”
“How about mama? Can you say mama?”
“No!”
You had to tell your husband to stop with the questions as it was becoming too hilarious. That night, when it was bedtime, Clara did the most adorable little ‘awoo’ which made Dieter almost cry from the cuteness.
“Are you a little werewolf?” you asked Clara to which she eagerly nodded.
“Are you going to bite me?” asked Dieter.
“No.”
“Good, because family don’t bite each other.”
“Well, only if…” but Dieter was stopped by your no-sexy-talk-in-front-of-the-baby stare, “No, we don’t bite each other.”
No became her favourite word throughout the week when she wasn’t being a ghost because ghosts only say boo. She tried to scare her daddy but she was too cute a little ghost that she got more cries of adoration than fear.
One night, you were in bed reading when Dieter came into the bedroom, carrying Clara like Rafiki did Simba “She said it! She said it!” and he gently placed her next to you and crawled onto the bed.
“Come on cupcake, say what you said before.”
Clara looked over at you, jumped up and said “Mummy!” before gently falling into your waiting arms.
Dieter pouted, “That’s not what you said before.”
You hugged your daughter with one arm and pointed to Dieter with the other, “Who’s that silly man?”
Clara followed your pointing, “Daddy!”
Dieter beamed as bright as the sun and joined in the cuddle puddle, covering the both of you in kisses. Eventually he pulled away, “Alrighty, time for beddy.��
But Clara clung close to you with a “No!”
You were trying to be stern, “Clara, it’s time for bed.”
“No!”
“But you’re sleepy.”
She nuzzled into you, “No.”
Dieter sighed, “Do you just want to cuddle with mummy and daddy?”
“Yes.”
Films referenced: The Lion King (1994)
Lovingly tagging @boliv-jenta @simpingcowboy @ellenmunn @o-sacra-virgo-laudes-tibi @brilliantopposite187 @chaithetics @myloveistoolittle @cevans-is-classic
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pocketramblr · 4 months
Note
AU where Mom for One had triplets. AFO, Yoichi and an extremely different third child; Toshinori.
1- the babies cling to each other as they shiver in the rain that scared away the rats, and are barely saved by their dead mother's colleague who came to see where she was. The other sex worker took what cash was on the body and scooped up the kids, saying they were lucky she catered to a specific kink, nursing them for a few days until she found someone else who could take them in. She named Yoichi, the tiny one she picked up first and felt the worst for, and Toshinori, the big sweet one. She didn't name the big, loud one who kept managing to bite her in spite of having no teeth every time she checked.
2- the triplets are dizygotic, which means that two are genetically identical and one is not. This is more common than all three being identical. Toshinori's hair is very light, and his blue eyes close to his brothers' green, and he laughs like Yoichi and glares like AfO. They're clearly brothers, but as they get bigger and Yoichi stays short, others assume he's younger than "the twins."
3- AfO clung very tightly to his brothers as a baby, but once weaned and walking, he would rather push Yoichi away. After all, as long as he has one brother, why need an extra? Especially an extra that keeps pulling Toshinori's attention away? AfO tries to kill Yoichi once, and Toshinori keeps the littlest in his arm for a week, giving their brother the silent treatment. AfO finally gives up and forgets about it. Yoichi forgives him. Toshinori does neither.
4- Toshinori loves the comics Yoichi shares with him, and thinks that the world would be better if they were real- not just because of the heroes helping people, but inspiring everyone to do better, and hope. He says as much to AfO, who asks if he means like the movement for the luminescent child. Toshinori thinks nothing of it until the moment reaches their city, the glowing child staying in a hotel with their parents and spokespeople- and losing their power there, guards killed and moment kneecapped while the child is decried a fake or a traitor. That night, leading them out of the city, AfO tells Toshi he'll build a better movement and better world.
5- Toshinori tries to leave, though Yoichi is confused about why. AfO is displeased by that, and grabs Toshinori, giving him the glow quirk so he can't hide from him. Then, he gives other quirks so his brother will understand how he feels, and is delighted that Toshi can hold as many as he gives. Finally, Yoichi realizes and tries to help him escape. Toshi gives him the quirks and tells him to run instead, because he doesn't want AfO to try to kill him again, likely successfully. AfO complains about Yoichi running off with so much stolen property - the quirks and Toshinori's trust. Toshi is vaulted, and given a longevity copy. He makes many escape attempts. AfO decides that as Yoichi was just an unfortunate part of his fetus that got shaved off, all of Toshi's devotion is really to AfO, and the two body thing is confusing him. If he had only reabsorbed the twin in utero- but now Yoichi's a quirk vestige, and he can fix that mistake. He leaves, and Toshinori begins planning vault escape number 8735- until the door is broken down by two heroes, one who looks like he stepped off the cover of Captain Hero, and the other a woman who is smiling just like Yoichi.
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reallyromealone · 2 years
Note
Hmmmm I wanted a crack fic bc the last time I request is the baby reader first word
So can you please make like ran and rindou has to bring their baby brother to a meeting with tenjiku and ended up with chaos like ran and rindou got send to do a mission and izana tell all the tenjiku member to babysit their brother and then the baby cry and they don't know what make the baby cry and the real reason was bc hanma face it's like:
Baby:*crying*
Mochi: why is he crying
Shion: I don't know I never care a baby before!
Baby:*crying harder*
Kakucho:*rocking the baby* why he doesn't stop crying?!
Kisaki:*is done*
Hanma:*the reason the baby cry*
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Okokok
Love this
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Ran held his eight month old brother in his arms, the littlest Haitani trying to grab his brothers braids to no avail as Ran moves them behind his back much to the infants annoyance "no (name), braids aren't for playing" Ran said soothingly and distracted the baby with one of his gloved finger's and in turn (name) tried to get his brothers finger.
"You sure Izana was cool with him coming?" Rindō asked staring at his baby brother fondly, they dressed him in s matching outfit as them and god damn was it precious.
"He didn't really care, just said he didn't want to change any diapers" Ran said casually as they walked to Tenjiku headquarters, opening the door to reveal the members sitting causally waiting for them and Izana.
"Eh? Why you guys got a brat?" Mochi asked staring at the baby, catching the attention of the others "this is (name), our baby brother" Rindō said as it were obvious and Kisaki glared at the three before spitting out "why is he here?"
"Couldn't find a sitter, take it up with Izana if you got a problem" Ran taunted before the siblings took their seats and settled (name) on their lap.
Izanas arrival moments later and the meeting began, everyone paying attention and trying to ignore the tiny baby making babbling sounds as the sunset eyed man explained the mission "the haitanis will go, you lot will watch (name)" Izana said making no room for arguments as the Haitani brothers gave a cold smile "if a hair is out of place on his head...we will kill you all" ran said with a sickly sweet smile and Rindō just gave a cold expression.
And that's how they ended up here.
Mochi holding the baby Haitani awkwardly, the tiny babe just vibing until making eye contact with hanma and face slowly quivered until he began crying loudly. "Oh god nononono" mochi said trying to sooth the baby "why is he crying?!" He said panicked and the men began loosing their shit "I don't know?! Do I look like I cared for a baby?!" Shion said gripping his hair as he tried to think of a way to get the kid to stop wailing.
"Maybe there's something in his bag?!" Kakucho said digging in the baby bag for anything, pulling out a pre made bottle and trying to feed (name) only for the babe to smack it away angrily as kisaki watched annoyed, Sanzu in the background just watching the whole situation go down amused.
(Name) glanced at Hanma again and screamed louder, the men clueing in and in the end Hanma was stuck with a bag over his head and (name) eventually calmed down, vibing for a while until a foul odor filled the room.
"Oh god damn it"
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starsurface · 28 days
Note
Hcs for Stryker CG (Mk9-MK1 version it don’t matter :3) looking after a baby regressor?- ✨ Thanks again
Of course!! It's kinda both MK1 and MK9?? Mostly 'cause, uh, there's not much of him on either timeline . . .
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<3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3
CG Stryker Hcs
🧸 Papa Bear!!!!!
🧸 @autismoplayden got it into my mind that he's a Papa Bear with her Stryker post, so he's a Papa Bear :3 (also why I used this emoji)
🧸 Very protective Papa
🧸 Your his baby!!! He's gotta protect you 🥺
🧸 Not overbearing when it comes to babysitting or playdates, but can be overbearing when you wanna play alone
🧸 He wants to make sure your safe, your his baby, you need to be safe
🧸 You are not allowed to get hurt, not even the littlest scratch or papercut
🧸 He gets bad memories of Kabal getting hurt, and he couldn't dare imagine you getting hurt
🧸 He'll patch you up, kissing your boo-boo when your done
🧸 But your also required to have a thirty minute cuddle afterwards, very protective Papa
🧸 Loves carrying you!!!!
🧸 It's not even to show off his strength, he just really likes holding you <3
🧸 Got you a fake badge so you could play cop with him
🧸 Playing cop with him making fake little scenarios with your stuffies
🧸 He'll roll and army crawl on the ground, making you giggle cause Papa was being funny
🧸 Since your tiny, he'll prop you against some pillows and do more of the work
🧸 Or pick you up and crawl around with you, gotta defeat those bad guys!! >:D
🧸 He'd do the silliest things just to make you laugh
🧸 It's actually very nice to see, since normally he's kinda serious
🧸 He'd find it funny if you stole his hat
🧸 And let you keep it for a bit, you look adorable 🥺
🧸 Favorite CG nicknames are Papa and Bubba
🧸 Ugh, babbling 🥺
🧸 Thinks you're adorable when you babble
🧸 Is really good with nonverbal communication, even if it's just grabby hands
🧸 I feel like he'd know a small bit of asl and would encourage you to use some (like water or hungry)
🧸 Your main babysitters would probably be (good/redeemed) Kabal, Sonya, and Kitana (I can see them as friends)
🧸 Did you know Sonya and Stryker are decent friends, even if it's never really spoken about in the games? (It was really quick in Rebirth, but I love her <3)
🧸 Really good with diaper regressors
🧸 Very patient when you get fussy or upset
🧸 He'll wait for you to calm down before cradling you
🧸 Telling you that there's no reason to get all fussy but your not in any trouble
🧸 But if being naughty, he won't hesitate to sit on the naughty step with you
🧸 Do the crime, serve the time >:(
🧸 A bit strict when it comes to rules (he doesn't want you to get hurt) but will be a bit softer because of how tiny you are
🧸 You can get out of punishment very easily though, a few tears and no pease Papa will make him easily bend
🧸 You get many, many compliments
🧸 He adores praising you, thinks you look adorable when you say a tiny thank you or give him a giggly paci kiss in response
🧸 I can see him really liking to play with slime with you
🧸 I dunno why, but I think he'd really enjoy playing with slime
🧸 Or even playdough!!
🧸 Making playdough food, or buying those old 2000 playdough ice cream machines!!
🧸 . . . You're not allowed to eat either of these, don't even think about it >:(
🧸 Will help you color by guiding your hand, but only if you want
🧸 Ugh, any picture of you and Papa WILL get framed 🥺
🧸 ^ Even if it's a stick figure of you in your favorite color, and him a blue figure
🧸 Absolutely adores baby regressor, but more just adores you
🧸 Your his baby, he's so happy to come home from his long scary days to his sweet little baby
🧸 Favorite nicknames for you are Baby Bear, Little One, Baby Girl/Boy, Sweetheart
🧸 “My Baby” is another one of his favorites <3
<3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3
Ngl, Stryker seems so cool, but I know almost nothing of him cause he kinda left in MK9. 👀
Also ngl, kinda like the ship of him and Kabal or him, Kabal, and Kano. (I REALLY LIKE REDEEMED KABAL)
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letstalkaboutit100 · 4 months
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Ideas pt 16 Blue= Concepts Pink=episode ideas
Since I posted my pt 13 I started to think about animals in the EAH world. So here are MORE ideas if EAH got a reboot!
Apple's cat is named Cinnamon and Raven's dog is named Buck. And they of course hate each other just like their owners lol. I feel Raven and Cinnamon have a BIG rivalry! She's like Lucifer lol! Pretty and sweet on the outside, but evil and mean on the inside. She constantly makes Raven's life harder by breaking stuff, leaving hairballs everywhere, and meowing all night to keep her awake. (Since her and Apple's rooms are close she somehow always sneaks in! Raven can't figure it out!) She drives her crazy! And every time Raven finally has enough, starts to yell at her or is sometimes in an out-of-context position (There was a throwing-out-the-window incident that we don't talk about lol. That was a 'fun' week) someone walks in, usually Apple looking for her and is shocked (but also happy) that Raven is trying to 'kill her cat' when in truth she wasn't trying to but now... SHE DOES! (Her mother used to have a mean cat so she just doesn't like them)
I feel that Apple would be scared of Buck lol. He growls at her and she squeals and finds someone to hide behind. Cerise gave Buck to Raven as a gift for helping her be more confident in her ears/helping to show them off in a way that no one would know that they were real. "I found him while me and my family were hunting" *Lifts the blanket in her basket off and Buck pops out licking Raven's face while she's laughing* "Aw! He's adorable!" "When we found him he had an injured paw so we took him home and I nursed him back to health!"
*Raven starts to baby-talk him* "Who's a good boy? You're a good boy! You're such a sweet boy!" *looks up to Cerise while playing with Buck*"Does the little guy have a home?" *Looks back down at Buck* "Do you have a home?" "Doooo you?" "Actually I was wondering if you would like to have him..." "Really!?" "Yeah I mean I already have my pet dog and" *Bends down to scratch Buck's head and starts to baby-talk too* "And I couldn't leave the little guy in the pound! Now, Could I?" *Both girls start to play with him* "So will you?" "Of course, I will! *Stands up to hug Cerise* "Thank you so much!" "I should be the one thanking you." *Confused* "Me? Why?" "You are the only one besides Hunter and Ashlynn who knows about my parents. You're the first person that I have ACTUALLY told. And you're ok with it! You don't judge my parents and willingly are my friend. You helped me not be so insecure anymore. And at Maddie's tea party!? I would have never shown them my ears if you hadn't convinced me! So I just wanted to say thank you." *Raven who is on the verge of tears* "I'm honored that I was the first one you tolded and your friend!" *They hug again* (A part of me kinda wants Cerise to have the tinyest crush on her. So tiny that it's not even mentioned in the show.)
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Everyone loves Buck! The school is kind of divided between Cinnamon and Buck lol. The rebels love Buck, and some of the royals too. But most of them like Cinnamon. (Maybe because they don't want to hurt Apple's feelings. I can imagine Apple giving people a pouty sad look. I feel she does that a lot to manipulate people whether it's for the littlest things. In Apple's will it said that if anything happens to her, she wants Brair to take care of her. Brair doesn't lol.)
Apple at first thinks that Buck is cute but he doesn't like her the second he sniffs her.
Maddie also doesn't like cinnamon because she tries to eat mice.
Cerise doesn't like Cinnamon at first but gets used to her.
Ramona HATES Cinnamon. She's constantly hissing at her showing off her teeth and claws to scare her.
Ashlynn loves both of them. But Hunter just likes Buck. She has it out for him too lol! She likes Ashlynn. I would want an episode where Apple goes away for a few days and everyone in the school has to take turns taking care of Cinnamon lol! That would be WILD!
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luna-writes-stuff · 1 year
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Day 15: Cornelia Street, Sam Winchester
Song link
Fanfic, fem!reader
Follows pilot episode, fluff, slight angst
Word count: 4177
Tw: mentions of alcohol/being drunk, slight pilot divergence. Azazel is a little bitch. Mention/description of violence and blood, but nothing too severe. Stanford!Sam my darling &lt;3
Summary: In which you buy your first house with Sam. However, domestic bliss seems to fade quickly when his brother shows up in your home one night, ranting about their father missing.
s1 sam has my heart pls bring him back
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“We were in the backseat Drunk on something stronger than the drinks in the bar.”
The best feeling after a long night of partying and drinking, was the drunken serenity that was the backseat of a cab. All noise of the night simply faded away. It was peaceful; quiet. Something so beautiful about it.
Beside you, Sam was giggling to himself, clinging to your hand constantly. He hadn’t heard you utter an address to the cab driver, nor had he picked up on your tiny grin. He was lost in his own world. You smiled at him, holding his hand up and placing a kiss on it to draw his attention. A happy grin was thrown your way as Sam shuffled on the backseat, seating himself closer to you as he rested his head on your shoulder.
“‘M proud of you, baby.” You whispered, referring to his earlier test results, and his talk with a law firm.
Sam mumbled something under his breath. Something that you could decipher as “You’re beautiful.” Yes, he was completely gone. You knew that fourth drink hadn’t been a smart decision for him.
Houses flew past you as the car moved through streets and roads, the lights of street lanterns illuminating your face occasionally. Sam’s eyes stared out the window, silent realization dawning upon him.
“This isn’t the way home.”
“"I rent a place on Cornelia Street" I say casually in the car.”
You smiled at him, stroking his hair gently. You grabbed a key from your jacket's pocket, placing it on his lap slowly. In his drunken state, he was still able to pick up on the gesture. Toying with the key, his fingers fell over the keychain.
“I bought a place for us,” You spoke up. “We have been talking about it for ages, and we won’t get anywhere with our tacky apartment.”
It was true; You and Sam had been living together for a couple of months now, but everything in your apartment seemed to degrade with time. First, it was the lights, then it was the heating, and now you kept receiving brown water. You both knew buying a new place would be cheaper than fixing your current one.
A look of disbelief crossed over Sam’s features as he stared at you. His eyebrows furrowed together, his eyes squinted, his hair unkempt, a sliver of a smile on his lips. Despite the awful smell of alcohol on his breath, he looked adorable.
“What?” He mustered out.
“It was supposed to be a gift for tonight, but I kind of forgot after all the drinking.” You explained, grinning sheepishly. “Suprise…”
“We were a fresh page on the desk Filling in the blanks as we go As if the street lights pointed in an arrowhead Leading us home.”
After that, the house became a home soon enough. Before the first month was even over, the entirety of the living room and kitchen had been decorated. Even your bedroom has been done. Little boxes were still stacked in the hall, but none that were terribly in the way.
Sam had been clingier than you were used to. Ever since the move, he had been following you around like a lost puppy, helping you with the littlest things, such as giving the toothbrushes a place. The first week the only breakfast you had was in bed, and nearly every night, a warm bathtub was ready for you.
Sam had insisted on paying back half of the home, but you refused, claiming it had been a gift for him. Perhaps that had been why he was following you around constantly. It was his way of returning the favor.
The place was in a calm neighborhood, granting Sam the peace he needed to study. Sunny days were spent in the garden. During the rainy hours, you were snuggled up on the couch together. His nose in a book as your head lay in his lap, aimlessly zapping through tv stations.
It was something so domestic, you hadn’t expected to share it with Sam that soon. But you were glad you did.
“And I hope I never lose you, hope it never ends I'd never walk Cornelia Street again That's the kind of heartbreak time could never mend I'd never walk Cornelia Street again.”
But the honeymoon avenue faded quickly. Too quick for your liking.
You had lain in bed peacefully, your back against Sam’s chest as he clung to your waist. His hands occasionally tugged on your stomach as he dreamt, his head in the crook of your neck. His breath tickling your neck could lull you to sleep at any time. But something was wrong this time. You knew it.
A loud thump was heard from downstairs. Your initial thought was that one of the boxes had fallen over. They tended to do that often. But when a silent sling of curses followed it, you were positive someone was downstairs.
Immediately turning in Sam’s arm, you whispered his name urgently. But he remained asleep.
“Sam,” You repeated, now poking his cheek. That seemed to wake him up.
“Mmh?” Came his groggy response. You had almost felt guilty for waking him. But when another thud echoed through the house, anxiety settled back in. Sam heard it too.
From his nightstand, he grabbed a gun. How that had gotten there, you would have to ask him later. Now, you were simply grateful he had it. Standing up swiftly, Sam neared the door, his footsteps near silent. You immediately followed him.
“And baby, I get mystified by how this city screams your name And baby, I'm so terrified of if you ever walk away I'd never walk Cornelia Street again.”
“Fucking boxes everywhere,” Another curse came as the door opened. Sam held his hand out to you, pushing you back slightly, keeping you out of sight from the hall. Your phone clung in your hand, ready to call 911 would the situation arise.
Sam got the gun off of safety, aiming it slowly as he stepped forward. Anxiously, you patted behind him, keeping your footsteps as silent as possible. As your boyfriend turned the corner, something jumped him. The gun fell out of his hold, a panicked shriek escaping your mouth almost instantly.
Idiotically enough, your first thought was not to call. It was to grab the vase next to you and knock it against the attacker. As the pair struggled on the floor, you raised the object, before colliding it with the back of the attacker’s head. It didn’t break as you had hoped, but it seemed to do the trick.
“Get back!” Sam warned, urging you to run into the bathroom. You obeyed him immediately, locking the door behind you. From the window above the door, you could see the light turn on. Silence filled the air, and for a second you were worried something happened to Sam. That is when his voice sounded.
“Dean?”
“I'd never walk Cornelia Street again.”
Now, that was a name you knew. You never met Dean, but you knew it was Sam’s brother. He talked about him often enough.
Slowly unlocking the door, you peeked out, your phone now opened at the emergency number. One click on the button and you could call. But when Sam did not seem to reach for the gun on the floor, you figured you were safe.
“Hey, Sammy.” Came Dean’s voice, his body now rising from the floor, his hand shooting to the back of his head. His eyes met yours, and in response, you walked closer to Sam, the hold on your phone now tight enough to smother it.
“What are you doing here? Why didn’t you knock?”
“I wanted to see if you still had it,” The older Winchester objected, hissing as he withdrew his hands. “Do you have a towel for me?”
You merely pointed towards the bathroom, letting him find it on its own. He seemed to understand you, and wandered to the room you had hidden in only seconds prior.
“How did you even find me? I moved here three weeks ago.”
“I searched Sam Winchester in the phone book after I noticed you weren’t in your old apartment.” He meekly pointed out, grabbing a white towel to hold to his head. If you had known him better, you would have scolded him for not using the black one. But you were still in too much of a shock.
“Windows swung right open, autumn air Jacket 'round my shoulders is yours.”
“That’s your girlfriend?” He mused, pointing to you. Sam squeezed his eyes together at his brother’s statement, and placed himself in front of you slightly.
“What are you doing here?”
Dean’s eyes shifted from yours to Sam’s, sighing deeply. “I think it’d be better to discuss it amongst four eyes.”
You couldn’t have agreed more. You had already taken a step from Sam when he grabbed your arm gently, halting you.
“No,” He rejected. “Whatever you can say to me, you can say to her.”
Dean remained silent for a moment, visibly contemplating his words. But as his eyes fell back on yours, he exhaled, throwing his head back.
“Dad’s on a hunt. And he hasn’t been home in a couple of days.”
No visible sign of distress seemed to wash over Sam’s face, and you were nearly confused. Dean continued to talk as you slowly kneeled to the floor, grabbing the gun that had still been laying there, safety off. Carefully, you clicked it back on, placing it on top of the tiny desk beside you.
The longer they talked, the more desperate Dean became. And the more you knew, you were going to lose Sam.
“We bless the rains on Cornelia Street Memorize the creaks in the floor.”
That same night he had his bag packed. His brother was waiting in the car outside. It had all happened so fast. You weren’t even sure how to respond anymore. Sure, you were concerned for his father, but from what you heard from Sam, he hadn’t been the best guy.
“I will call you when I get into a motel, okay?” Sam spoke softly, wrapping his arms around you as he pulled you into his frame. His head bowed down as he placed a kiss on top of your head.
Your hands found the back of his shirt, tugging on it gently. “Come back Monday?” You whispered into his chest.
“Promise,” He agreed, parting from you slightly, placing his lips against yours in a loving manner.
You kissed him back with equal fervor. Your arms wrapped around his neck as you pulled him closer, your hands finding the ends of his hair, tugging on them lightly. His hands settled on your hips, pulling you flush against him again, his kisses becoming more urgent.
Before you got carried away, you broke from him, showing him a fake, but believable smile.
“I’ll miss you,” You mumbled, grabbing his hands.
“I’ll be back before you know it.”
A final kiss was placed on your lips, before he walked out of the door, offering you a final wave. You had stood in that doorway minutes after the car left, secretly hoping Sam would make up his mind.
But he didn’t. He would stay away for the next couple of days.
“Back when we were card sharks, playing games I thought you were leading me on I packed my bags, left Cornelia Street Before you even knew I was gone.”
After the call from the motel, you barely heard anything from him. No text, no note, no letter. It was as if he had completely forgotten you. You had never doubted your relationship with Sam, but he seemed to go with his brother too easily. You hadn’t even met the guy once, and you knew Sam for at least two years now. Perhaps all he needed was that little nudge to his family.
And that wasn’t bad. Not at all. If anything, you had encouraged him to get in contact with his father again. But you figured you could have at least left with them. Or perhaps get more than a wave and a goodbye. But as the minutes turned into hours, insecurities began to bubble up, and the urge to call him every second became unbearable.
You had spent your nights downstairs on the couch, hoping to hear him the second he got back home. He promised to be back by Monday. It was Sunday night, and he had yet to call. He should have been back by now, right?
“But then you called, showed your hand I turned around before I hit the tunnel Sat on the roof, you and I.”
You had skipped school that Monday, staying home in case Sam would show up. Now, worry began to settle in your stomach. Perhaps something had happened? A car crash? Maybe they found his father and the worst-case scenario happened. And you were worrying about him not loving you? Guilt seeped through your veins at that thought.
It was 9 PM. You had yet to eat dinner. You had ordered fries, but they were turning cold on the coffee table in front of you. The news on the tv filled the room, but you weren’t paying attention. Your eyes were on your phone the entire time. Hoping for some kind of light. Anything, at this point.
Outside, you could hear the rumbling of a car slowing down, before coming to a halt in front of your door.
You shot up immediately, wrapping your cardigan around you tighter, before running up to the door. Through the tiny window, you were able to make out his frame. A sudden jump in your heart occurred, and you found yourself inhaling sharply upon the feeling. You had missed him more than you care to admit.
“I hope I never lose you, hope it never ends I'd never walk Cornelia Street again That's the kind of heartbreak time could never mend I'd never walk Cornelia Street again.”
Before he could even find the key in his pocket, the door opened before him. Your hair disheveled, your posture tired. But you smiled immediately upon seeing him.
“Baby,” He sighed relieved, the events of the past couple of days finally fleeting his memory. His bag dropped to the floor as he walked up to you, wrapping two arms around you tightly, squeezing you lovingly.
Your hands fell upon his chest, clinging to the material of his shirt, as you so often did with his hugs. The scent of his cologne had faded significantly, but it was still there. Hidden, but not faded. Upon the realization, you took a step back, taking in his full figure. A cut was sitting on his left eyebrow, and a bruise began to form below it.
“What happened?” You whispered, already reaching up to touch it gently. “Are you okay?”
“I am now,” Sam reassured, reaching down to grab his bag again. “It’s cold.”
Nodding in agreement, you stepped back, giving Sam room to walk. He looked behind him shortly, sending a wave towards his brother, who took off driving.
“And baby, I get mystified by how this city screams your name And baby, I'm so terrified of if you ever walk away I'd never walk Cornelia Street again.”
The pillows and blankets covering the couch were the first things Sam noticed as he walked into the living room. As he walked closer to it, he found your phone sitting on its charger on top of the biggest pillow. It did not take long for him to connect the dots.
“Did you sleep here?”
You stared at the makeshift bed, shaking your head lightly. “Not yet.”
“Not yet?” His figure walked up behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist as his head rested on your shoulders. Almost melting in his hold, your hand found his, resting them on your stomach as your head leaned against his.
“It was getting late, but you’d promised to be home today.” You eventually confessed.
“I'd never walk Cornelia Street again.”
His head rose from your shoulder at those words, his eyes glued to the couch. “You were going to sleep on there?”
He turned you around in his arms, staring down at you with sympathy and remorse. “Baby, you knew I’d always come home, right?”
Forming your lips in a thin line, you nodded at him. Of course, you knew he’d come home. You weren’t stupid. Yes, you had held your insecurities and hesitations, but regardless of Sam’s heart and decisions, you knew he’d show up at your doorstep again. But having him leave for three full days after seeing him every day was something you had wished you were more prepared for.
But you were not going to tell him all of that. Instead, you spoke: “I knew you’d let me sleep if I was upstairs.”
A tiny smile appeared on your boyfriend’s face, his eyes crinkling slightly.
“You know me too well.” He mumbled, pressing his lips against yours as his hands slowly raised to the small of your back. You reciprocated the quick kiss, your hands grasping his biceps to remain your balance.
“‘M glad you’re home,” You muttered against his lips, a smile finally growing on your face.
“I love you.”
“You hold my hand on the street Walk me back to that apartment Years ago, we were just inside.”
That was the last peaceful moment you’d remember for a long time. That same night, you had moved your stuff back to the bedroom. Sam had been unpacking his own stuff there, occasionally helping you with the sheets and pillows.
You were standing in the bathroom, brushing your teeth, when you noticed something strange behind you through the mirror. Spitting out the toothpaste, you adjusted your toothbrush in your hand. Everything hurts if you poke someone in the eye. And ever since Dean had shown up, you became paranoid at night, frightened someone might be watching you, standing elsewhere in your house.
As you turned around, you came face to face with an older man, his eyes glowing yellow. Letting out a panicked yelp, you dropped the toothbrush. The thought of stabbing someone was entertaining; not so much the practice of it.
“Sam!” You shouted, already running into the bedroom. Your boyfriend shot up from his place on the floor, grabbing your shoulders to steady you, his eyes staring intently into yours.
“What’s wro-”
“There’s a man in our bathroom!”
Alarms seemed to immediately ring in his head. Before you could even ask him where he had grabbed it from so quickly, Sam drew his gun, pulling the safety off, and standing in front of you.
“Hiya, Sammy.”
“Barefoot in the kitchen Sacred new beginnings That became my religion, listen.”
The man from the bathroom grinned, an eerie ambiance filling the room all of a sudden. “My, have you grown.”
“Get out of my house.” The Winchester warned, his gun still drawn. The man’s smile fell, his face morphing into a sneer, his eyes now set on you. As he had done with Dean, the boy reached behind him, forcing you behind him completely.
“What a beautiful distraction you have there,” The man went on, though no longer friendly. Without a second of hesitation, Sam shot the man in the leg. But he didn’t budge. He didn’t even seem to be bothered by it. He simply chuckled.
“We cannot allow for distractions to happen.”
Suddenly, your feet were lifted off the floor. One last hopeless look was thrown Sam’s way as your body flew through the hall, colliding with the wall harshly before falling down the stairs. A sharp pain climbed up your spine upon the impact.
“I hope I never lose you I'd never walk Cornelia Street again Oh, never again.”
Jolting awake, you reached for the knife under your pillow, holding it up towards the place the man had stood. But he was gone. And the lights weren’t on either. You weren’t in the hall.
Your heart beat rapidly, your breathing labored as something - or someone - stirred beside you. Slowly, you had begun to realize it had been a dream. A nasty memory. The man you now knew to be the demon Azazel. The house you had left the day after that, leaving with Dean and Sam. It was the only safe solution.
Now, you found yourself in your bedroom in the bunker. It was dark, but a slight luminescence fell from under the door; you were able to make out certain shapes.
“Baby?” A tired mumble came from beside you, an arm lazily landing on top of your lap, as if to test if you were still there.
“Sorry,” You muttered, lowering the knife, but still staring around the room in distrust. “Bad dream.”
Subconsciously, your free hand reached toward your lower back, your fingers brushing the faded scar; still visible, but no longer red, as it used to be for months. A sharp pain shot up through your spine, your shoulder blades reaching back to get rid of it.
A second one brushed over yours, reaching the scar. It was bigger, more calloused, but soothing. “Your back?”
You hummed in response, letting Sam grab the knife from your hand and place it on his nightstand. Carefully, he wrapped a second arm around your waist, leaving his hand to reach the back of your head. Then, he lowered you back into bed, rubbing your back soothingly.
“It’s not as bad now,” You tried to justify, but your efforts seemed in vain.
“And baby, I get mystified by how this city screams your name And baby, I'm so terrified of if you ever walk away I'd never walk Cornelia Street again.”
It was a miracle you were still able to walk after the incident, let alone still feel your legs. Psychogenic pains still happened from time to time, but they could only be described as a sore back these days. None as extreme as the pain used to be.
You were grateful for it, but after nights like these, you wished all the pains would just leave permanently.
Sam’s hand resumed to massage your lower back, pushing your shirt up slightly. His other hand rested against your stomach, pulling you closer to him. Sighing in exhaustion, you leaned into his touch, letting your head fall back against his chest.
Looking up slightly, you smiled at him. And even through dimmed lights, Sam could see. That same goofy grin appeared on his face as he leaned down, placing a sweet kiss on your lips.
“I'd never walk Cornelia Street again.”
“Go back to sleep, sweetheart.” He mused, resting his chin on top of your head.
The movements on your back did not cease, and in all honesty; you did not wish for them to stop. They were too soothing for that. Yet, you could not find peace easily. As you closed your eyes, those same haunting yellow eyes flew in front of you.
It was not that you were terrified of Azazel. Perhaps you once had been. The first year you left with the Winchesters. But the more demons you encountered throughout your life, the less frightened you grew of them. And the more you realized that that was all Azazel has ever been: A demon.
But the last memories you held in that house you grew to adore in such a short time were all bad. From Sam leaving to Azazel showing up. You wished you had parted on better terms. Secretly, you wished you had never left that house. But you wouldn’t tell Sam that. He seemed happy with his brother. And you grew to love his brother as well.
“I don't wanna lose you, hope it never ends I'd never walk Cornelia Street again I don't wanna lose you.”
Swallowing harshly, you grabbed Sam’s hand, squeezing it once. At least you still had him.
“I love you,” You whispered through the calm air. A soft chuckle was heard from behind you, the rumbling of Sam’s chest carrying itself through your body.
“I love you too.”
Silence. Again. You were tired, but could not bring yourself to sleep. It happened often after those dreams. You knew it would take some time, but you’d eventually be able to close your eyes. But for now, the question lay heavier on your tongue than ever.
“Will we ever have our own place again?” You asked hesitantly.
Sam’s hands halted momentarily, visibly pondering over his answers. If you had asked him if he wanted to, he would have said yes in a heartbeat. But with your lives now, everyone and everything hunting you: It seemed too difficult. You knew this, yet always held hope.
“We will,” He ultimately concluded. “One day, there will be a period of peace again, and we will find that house.”
His lips pressed against the top of your head, kissing it lovingly.
“Promise.”
“"I rent a place on Cornelia Street" I say casually in the car.”
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